One Track Mind (19 page)

K
ANE SAT UP IN BED
, looking pale, his upper right arm and chest bandaged. Lori and the chief of the Halesboro police stood by his bed, and Lori was there only because she flatly refused to take orders from the chief.

“All right,” she said, holding Kane’s hand and staring at Wally Taylor, a stocky man with his police shield shining on his broad chest. “Who did this? Is he charged?”

“He will be,” Wally said. “As for who did it, I’m not at liberty to say—”

“I am,” Kane asserted. “I saw him go into the building. And I saw him when we struggled. It’s Jimmy Pilgram, isn’t it?”

Lori’s free hand flew to her mouth. “Jimmy? No! He’s such a sweet kid. He works so hard.”

Kane said, “My guess is that he found a way to make easier money, right?”

Wally Taylor sighed. “Now I’m not supposed to tell you anything yet.”

“It’s Jimmy,” Kane persisted. “He’s Morrie’s assistant. Morrie has a full set of keys. Jimmy got them and copied them, right?”

Wally looked disgusted. “You’re free to think whatever you want. Let’s just say, yes, the perpetrator could get around pretty easy.”

“He’s a skinny, agile kid,” Kane said. “Moves quickly.”

“I liked him,” Lori said, still stunned. “And so did Clyde and Morrie. Clyde even said that Jimmy reminded him of you when you were the same age.”

“I’m flattered,” Kane said sarcastically.

“Well,” she said, embarrassed to have been so gullible, “he came from a broken home. And his mother’s not well. But he worked his heart out. Clyde said he thought that Jimmy could go far, just like you. Maybe not as far, but at least make a success of his life.”

“Look,” Kane said to Wally Taylor, “now we all know it was Jimmy. And I reckon Kent told you about the theory of somebody hiding in the building, even about where we thought he was hiding. Skinny kid like him? He could get into the ceiling easy. What I want to know is why he did it? I’ve got a right to know. I own the place. Is he talking?”

Wally sighed harshly. “Yeah, he’s talking. The public defender’ll try to cut a plea bargain for him. The kid feels rotten. He’s scared as hell. But they offered him more money than he’d ever dreamed of. And like Ms. Garland said, his mom’s sick. She needs surgery.”

“Who offered him money?” Kane asked, arching a brow dangerously.

“Hell, I can’t say that, but who would you think put him up to it?”

“The Devlin Corporation,” Kane said, all cool certainty.

“You got every right to believe whatever you want to believe,” Wally repeated. “But it’s not official yet, and you don’t want to going around shooting your mouth off ’cause it will mess up the investigation, so I would greatly appreciate that you keep your piehole
shut.
” He turned and pointed at Lori. “And you, too, Missy.”

“My lips are sealed,” she said.

“Mine, too,” muttered Kane, “as with epoxy.”

“But what happens to Jimmy?” Lori asked in concern. “He’s just ruined his whole life.”

“If he gets the plea bargain,” Wally said, “that’ll help him a lot. But then his big trouble is the stabbing and the vandalism.”

Kane was silent a long minute. He looked deep in unhappy thought. “I’ll have to think about this…”

Lori looked at him in a mixture of hope and disbelief. Would he refuse to press charges?

Did he remember all too well how desperate a poor, powerless boy like Jimmy could feel in Halesboro?

“It’s a free country,” said Wally. “Think what you want. Now there’s some other people wanting to see you. Some of your high-speed friends. And remember, mum’s the word about all this.”

“We get it,” Kane said with a resigned nod.

Wally shuffled out, and a nurse bustled in. “Mr. Ledger, you have visitors, but the doctor doesn’t want them to stay for more than ten minutes. You need to rest. You’ll have to leave, too, Ms. Garland.”

Kane held Lori’s hand more possessively. “Not her. She stays. And when do I get out of this place?”

“With luck, two or three days,” said the nurse, her nose in the air. “And I’ll send in the doctor to talk to you about Ms. Garland.”

With a flourish of starchy scrubs, she left, and Dean and Kent ambled in, looking embarrassed. “You’ve got to work on your superhero act,” said Kent. “Superheroes don’t bleed. That’s the first lesson, and you blew it.”

“I’m too old to be running and aiming guns at people,” Dean grumbled. He looked at his son and said, “
You
can be the superhero by your lonesome.”

“This pretty lady going to come sit by your side every day you’re here?” Kent asked Kane.

“I hope so.”

Lori sighed. “I’ll be here as long as you want me. But now we have even more bad publicity. How much will that hurt the speedway?”

“It won’t hurt it at all, sweetheart. I told you, the first rule of publicity is that there’s
no
bad publicity. The name Halesboro will be all over the papers, TV, the Internet—name it. This last was just another chapter in the Hellsboro legend.”

Lori smiled weakly. Then she looked pensive again. “Jimmy Pilgram threw something last night. I saw him. Did they find it? Does anybody know what it was?”

Kent squared his shoulders. “I did. I saw the guard pick it up. A plastic jar. He sniffed and said it was full of drain cleaner. Jimmy probably was going to put it in one of the gas tanks.”

Lori was horrified. “What would that do?”

“It supposedly causes an explosion. The cleaner eats through the plastic, mingles with the gas—and boom!”

“But that could cause enormous damage,” Lori said, “even death.”

“If it worked, sweetheart,” Kane said. “But it’s an urban legend. The kid was dumb enough to believe it.”

At that point, the doctor walked into the room. “Have to ask everyone to leave. Want some tests done on this man. Come back during regular visiting hours.”

“She stays,” Kane said defiantly, holding Lori’s hand more tightly.

“No, she doesn’t,” the doctor said, stone-faced. “You may own the speedway, but you don’t own me. Sorry, everybody out.”

Lori tried to give him a quick kiss that turned into a longer, more intense one. She was getting used to kissing him in front of people. And she liked it very much.

T
HREE DAYS LATER
, Kane was out of the hospital and back in Charlotte. He and Lori talked daily on the phone, planning the August legends race in honor of Lori’s father.

Finally the morning of the race arrived. Kane and Rome McCandless gave a press conference in Charlotte. Kane did most of the talking, and Rome, as usual, looked shy about being in the spotlight. Kane revealed that it was Roman who had bought McCorkle Castle.

He planned on turning over fifty of its four hundred acres to the Tomlinson Corporation to develop into a family theme park that would celebrate the heritage, traditions and crafts of western North Carolina. He would keep the upper floors of the castle as a family retreat, but most of the lower floor of the castle itself would be open for weekend tours.

“I want all of Carolina to enjoy the castle,” Rome said at
the last, speaking without looking into the camera. “And I want to dedicate it to my folks, who told me with faith and hard work, I could grow up to be anything I wanted. And I’m going to build a chapel in their memory.”

He paused and said, “And more business is coming to Halesboro. Horning Discount Malls is putting a super-value mall in the mill buildings where my daddy used to work. I think he’d be proud to see those buildings help Halesboro grow.”

He was so guileless, so disarming, that Lori had to be happy for the changes he spoke of. They seemed to spring straight from Rome’s gentle heart.

Rome cuffed Kane’s hand. “You say the rest. You talk better.”

Kane nodded. “Rome’s a great benefactor to Halesboro. He’s also donating a medical helicopter and copter pad that will serve the Halesboro hospital. He wants to give this gift in honor of A. J. Simmons, one of the first dreamers to invest in Halesboro.”

Lori was so touched she cried all alone in front of her television set. Kane called her shortly after. “Now you can’t dislike Roman trying to boost Halesboro,” he said. “The guy’s just so damn sincere.”

“He is,” she said, stifling a sniffle. “But how can he afford to
do
this?”

“He’ll make twenty-two million bucks this season,” Kane said wryly, “and that’s before he endorses anything or makes any other deals. He’s invested his money wisely over the years, and he’d rather spend it on his hometown than on yachts and diamonds or a private tropical island.”

“So you and Rome and the Hornings have been in this together from the start,” she said, feeling teary again.

“Yes, and I’ll see you tonight. Rome won’t come. He wants to stay home and watch mushy movies with Zoey.”

“And you?” she asked.

“I want to give Halesboro a show it won’t forget,” he said. “Because the town’s coming back. And so’s the speedway.”

B
Y THE TIME
Kane arrived at the speedway, Lori was high-strung and shaken by waves of sentiment. She wanted everything to be perfect for this, her father’s race.

And perfectly was the way it started out. There was a carnival atmosphere, the midway full of vendors, prizes to be given all through the evening, the specialty acts, a parachute flag jump, a famous singer come out of retirement to sing the national anthem—Kane had pulled out all the stops this time.

Everyone congratulated him on helping capture the vandal and for making Halesboro lively again.

In one of their few moments alone, Kane muttered in Lori’s ear, “I think getting stabbed was the best PR move I ever made.”

She grabbed his lapel in mock threat. “But don’t
ever
do it again.”

“I won’t if I can help it,” he said. “And I mean it. So here it is, Lori, the change
is
happening. Do you still regret it?”

“No,” she said, but sadness tinged her voice. “What’s past is past. The change is needed. And my father would
love
the excitement here tonight. And I’m glad things are moving on. I’ve learned my lesson.” She glanced up at him, bemused. “And I guess I can thank you for that.”

“Lori—” He seemed to want to say something, but he was interrupted by a reporter.

“We just got word that the Devlin Corporation’s implicated in the vandalism that took place here. It’s on the AP wire. Have you got a comment?”

“No,” Kane said shortly. “I haven’t been told any details. Until I have, I’ve nothing to say.”

“What about the vandal, Jimmy Pilgram? Are you filing charges against him?”

“I’d rather not comment,” Kane said. “Sorry. Have to go. Last-minute things to check. See you up in the suite, Lori.” And he was gone, vanished into the crowd like a phantom.

Lori slipped away as rapidly as she could; she didn’t want the reporter trying to corner
her.

T
HE SPEEDWAY’S
VIP
SUITES
couldn’t match the luxury of any of the famous track suites she’d seen lately, but at least they were freshly painted, the chairs reupholstered, and she’d managed to have This Little Piggy cater snacks and appetizers for each suite in use and set up a modest table for drinks.

Dean and Patsy Grosso were there. Kent Grosso and his beautiful wife Tanya came, as well as a few of the old-timers—Flash Gorton, Rolly Munson, and “Flea” Robbins. “Damn,” said Flea, looking out the big windows, “it’s good to see this place full up again. Mighty good.”

Lori was surprised and pleased to see the same NASCAR executive in the suite that she’d seen at the Illinois speedway, the man who took his tie off after the first lap, then his coat and let his fancy suspenders be seen. He’d been a pleasant man to talk to, so she went over and reintroduced herself, sure he didn’t remember her.

But he did. Again he chatted easily with her, but he seemed tired tonight. He said he’d wanted to be here tonight but he was still jet-lagged from getting in from California early this morning. He made a statement that surprised and delighted her—but also turned the night into one of extreme imperfection.

“Yes,” he murmured. “Excuse me, please, if I sit. I wanted to be here tonight because NASCAR’s been interested in getting some regional series racing here. Been talking about it lately.”

“A regional series here?” Lori echoed.

“Umm-hmm,” he said wearily. “Mentioned it to Kane a while back. Last spring. Early April. He said there could be development up this way—and he was right. Bright man. Bright man.”

Lori felt herself bristling. NASCAR had been considering sanctioning Halesboro all this time, and Kane had known it? He’d knownbefore he’d made his offer, and never so much as
mentioned
it while she’d twisted in the wind?

The man might be fatigued, but he was observant. “You look
startled. Perhaps I mentioned this prematurely. Nothing settled yet, of course. Ignore me. My brain’s still on west coast time.”

“I know exactly how you feel,” Lori said, improvising. “If I don’t get my eight hours, I move around in a bit of a fog. Can I get you a cup of coffee?”

“I’d love one,” he said. “You’re a very gracious young lady. Black, please.”

She went to the coffee urn, filled him a cup and looked about the suite for Kane. He wasn’t there. Her temper rising, she stalked off to find him.

She felt angry and betrayed. Kane had
known
the track’s fortunes would get better, he had known that NASCAR was interested and had hidden the fact. Acting on secret knowledge that could have helped her refinance, he instead used it for himself. Now her father’s legacy belonged to
him.

She was hurt not only by having lost the track, but by knowing that Kane deliberately held back the truth. He’d flimflammed her and charmed his way into her bed. She’d made a public display of her affection—and all the while he must have been laughing at her.