Her mouth tightened. “So what do you do now? Tell someone? Get the officials to look?”
His instincts yelled yes, but another part of him ran the odds. The Dragons had money, sponsors, and history. He had suspicion and the word of a woman the paddock barely knew.
And that wasn’t what scared him most.
“You realize,” he said slowly, “if I march over there and accuse them, the first thing they’ll ask is how I know. Who saw what? How somebody got close enough to spot a hidden bottle in a frame channel.”
Color drained from her face. “You think they’d come after me.”
He saw again how alone she’d looked in that pit. Not in a crowd of fans; surrounded by their people. Their crew. Their security.
“The kind of people who cheat like that and build a whole circus to hide it aren’t big on leaving loose ends,” he said. “You saw what they didn’t want anyone to see. That puts a target on your back, whether we say something or not.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” she protested, but there was a tremor under the words.
“I know that.” He stepped closer, needing her to feel the certainty in him. “You didn’t; you did exactly the right thing. You saw something off, you got out, and you came straight to me. That’s textbook.”
Her eyebrows flicked. “Textbook what?”
“Textbook field work,” he said. “You stumble into something dirty, you don’t confront the guy kneeling over the bomb; you back out, you tell your team, you let the people with the right gear handle it.”
Her eyes searched his. “You’re scared.”
“Yeah,” he said, because there wasn’t any point lying. “I am.”
The admission cost him, but not as much as the thought of her walking through that pit again with Einstein’s eyes on her.
“You’re good at reading people, Bree,” he said. “Did he see you watching him?”
She thought for a moment. “I don’t think so. He glanced over once when the argument got louder, but I was standing near the edge. He rolled his eyes at Heidi, not at me. He never stopped working.”
“Okay,” Hank said. “That buys us time.”
“Time for what?”
He exhaled, long and slow. “Time for me to put some things in motion and for you to stay somewhere they can’t reach you.”
Her spine straightened. “I’m not a package you can store in a locker, Hank.”
“I know you’re not.” He met her gaze head-on. “You’re the only reason I know what they’ve done. You’re sharp and observant, and you walked into a dangerous place, and you walked back out with intel. That doesn’t make you a liability. It makes you an asset.”
Something flickered in her eyes, something like pride fighting with fear.
“But assets have to be protected,” he went on quietly. “If they realize you saw what you did, you’re vulnerable. You don’t know this paddock like I do. You don’t know who’s on whose payroll. I can’t go out there and do my job if I’m picturing you walking around while the Dragons are looking for a leak.”
Her throat worked. “So what are you asking me to do?”
He could’ve softened it. Could’ve dressed it up as a suggestion. Instead, he gave her the respect of honesty.
“I’m asking you to stay inside tomorrow,” he said. “Race day, I want you in the hotel, door locked. No boardwalk, no pits, no balcony. Not until the Cup race is over and the bikes are back in the tech barn. After that, we can reassess.”
Her eyes widened. “All day.”
“All day,” he confirmed. “I’ll make sure you’ve got whatever you need. Food, sketching supplies, and a live feed of the race on your TV. Brian and Colby will know you’re off-limits. If you need anything, you call me or one of them; you don’t open the door to anyone else, not even if they say they know me.”
Her fingers tightened on the sketchbook. “I came here to paint. To see the race. To watch you do the thing you love. And now I’m supposed to sit in a room like a kid in time-out.”
He hated that it sounded like that. Hated it more because he understood.
