Dead and Gone Jack Patterson (ebook reader play store .txt) 📖

far beyond a simple stuck throttle. That throttle got some help. And if you’re not going to assist me in finding out who did this, I have my ways of figuring it out myself.”

“Enter at your own risk, Mr. Murphy.”

Cal stood up. “Are you threatening me?”

Davis stood as well, bowing his chest out and pointing at Cal. “I’m warning you that you’re venturing into dangerous territory—both professionally and personally. Consider what you are implying and who your lies might hurt.”

“I consider that the truth might actually free some people—and put the villain behind bars for good.”

Davis’ eyes narrowed. “We don’t need people running around thinking such non-sense, Mr. Murphy. Let’s preserve Carson Tanner’s memory the way it should be—with honor, dignity, and respect.”

“What I find disrespectful is your refusal to discuss that what happened was even possible by the right person with the technical know-how and the opportunity to make it happen.”

Davis spit into his cup again. “People don’t want to hear about that. They want to hear about what an amazing person Carson Tanner was—because he was. Attempting to convince everyone else that this was some elaborate murder plot is beyond ridiculous. That’s the last thing I need right now.”

“Exactly. It’s the last thing you need right now, especially since you had plans to replace Tanner with Beaumont at the end of the season anyway. It keeps the suspicion off of you, even after you had already drawn up a contract to terminate Tanner.”

Davis froze. “How’d you know about that?”

Cal laughed. “I didn’t. But I do now.”

Davis pointed toward the door. “You can see yourself out.”

He waited until Cal left before burying his head in his hands. The stress was already taxing him. He picked up a pillow and slung it across the room.

That no-good reporter.

Were he not an owner, perhaps he would feel different and demand to know the truth. He picked up his phone and dialed a number. He had to make sure Cal’s crazy theory remained unsubstantiated by NASCAR authorities—even if the meddling reporter was right.

CHAPTER 11

OWEN BURNS BOARDED the plane with his head down. He felt guilty that he wasn’t mourning Carson Tanner more. Life would go on without his driver, but it was a stark reminder that tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed. He would’ve preferred to cancel the remaining two races and take some time to reflect. But the rest of the world didn’t live according to his druthers. It seemed to move faster than a race—and there was no time to stop.

He shuffled toward his row and settled into his assigned seat against the window. He glanced behind him to check on the rest of his crew.

“Where’s Walters?” he asked.

“He upgraded to first class,” Jackson Holmes said.

“What a punk.”

If truth be told, Walters would rather sit in first class. He had the mileage to upgrade every time he set foot on a plane. But they were a team—and they needed to stick together, today more than ever.

The rest of the travelers piled onto the plane, while Burns tried to ignore the nagging in his mind. He wanted to get into the latest hot-selling novel sitting on his lap, but he couldn’t. Not with Pat Walters acting pretentious. Today wasn’t the time to bask in luxury—it was the time to be together. It was the time to share memories and lament. Maybe even laugh about good times with Tanner. But it wasn’t the time to be isolated from everyone else.

Burns waited until it appeared the last passenger had boarded the flight. He waited another minute to calm down before he stormed toward the first class cabin.

A flight attendant blocked him a few rows shy of his intended destination. “Sir, I’m sorry, but you need to take a seat. We’re about to take off.”

He turned sideways and slipped past her. “This will only take a minute.”

Burns located Walters and leaned over his seat. As he did so, he scanned the text message that Walters was busy hammering out on his phone.

“With Tanner finally out of the way…”

He’d read enough. Burns knelt down beside Walters. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Walters turned and shuddered. With Burns just inches from his face, Walters was caught off guard. He turned off his phone and jammed it into his pocket.

“No need for discretion,” Burns said. “I read what you wrote.”

Walters glanced at his boss and rolled his eyes. “So what? Am I some kind of monster now?”

“You’re definitely not a team player.”

“And what makes you think that?”

Walters sighed. “You, sitting here. This is not the time to separate from everyone else. We need to stick together more than ever.”

“What for? So we can cry about our driver who was never going to win a championship?”

Burns shoved his finger in Walters’ face. “Watch your mouth, son.”

Walters slapped Burns’ hand to the side and scoffed. “If you think Tanner was your meal ticket, you’re dumber than you look. You know good and well he was never going to win a title.”

“Maybe he would have if his throttle hadn’t gotten stuck,” Burns said and then paused. “And that was your responsibility to check, wasn’t it?”

“Oh, fine. You wanna blame me now for a freak accident? You’re a piece of work.”

Burns refrained from taking a swing at Walters, but he didn’t think twice about grabbing him by the scruff of his neck and getting in his face.

“Do you think this is some kind of joke?” Burns didn’t wait for an answer. “Our driver died on the track and you’re sending text messages about ‘getting him out of the way.’ This isn’t a game, kid. This is real life with lives on the line. We don’t play around when it comes to safety.”

“If you want to accuse me, just come on out and say it, old timer,” Walters snarled. “I don’t have time for veiled accusations and innuendos.”

Burns reared back and prepared to lunge toward Walters with a punch before a flight attendant tapped him on the shoulder.

“Sir, it’s