Kiss the Bricks by Tammy Kaehler

Author:Tammy Kaehler
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Poisoned Pen Press, Inc.
Published: 2017-01-28T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-eight

When he responded to my e-mail, Racing’s Ringer, aka Scott Brooklyn, suggested we meet for coffee that morning. Holly spent the hour before we left scowling at the mirror in our foyer.

“I’m working on my badass expressions,” she told me, and I hid my grin.

As I drove us to the coffee shop, we prepared our talking points and requests as if readying for war, which wasn’t far off the truth, given prior interactions. Scott was a smart guy and a talented writer—and even more skilled at digging up facts and rumors in the racing world, in part because he promised sources anonymity. I couldn’t let anything drop that I wasn’t ready to talk about.

“Will you keep it from him that you’re looking into PJ’s death?” Holly asked, as we got out of the car.

“No chance. But I want his guarantee he won’t post anything until we’re ready.”

“I’ve got your back.” She nodded toward the door, where Scott stood waiting. “Game faces on.”

In recent years, Scott Brooklyn had stopped chasing full-time funding and full-season seats in racecars—choosing instead to compete once or twice a year in the longer endurance races like the 24 Hours of Daytona or Le Mans. As he’d given up his driving dreams, his broadcasting career had picked up, and he now worked the pits for major networks at IndyCar races and the occasional NASCAR race. For a guy in his mid- to late-thirties, that was a good career trajectory. Of course, what the official biographers didn’t report—or know—was his sideline as the hottest racing blogger of the past decade. I had to give him grudging credit for remaining anonymous, even if I didn’t always approve of what he posted.

I studied him as we approached and decided he was more settled and comfortable with himself than in years past. He’d always been handsome, with a killer smile and a way of looking at you with total absorption that drew you in. He had the beginnings of laugh lines and gray hair mingling with dark blond at his temples, which actually improved his looks. Compared to when I’d first met him, three and a half years ago—after a mutual friend was hauled away for killing two people—he looked great.

“Ladies.” He took our hands and pulled each of us close for a kiss on the cheek. “It’s good to see you both.”

Really? “Good to see you, too.”

Scott laughed and held the door open. “I promise not to bite, Kate. Unless you want me to.”

Flirting? I snapped my head around to Scott, and he winked at me.

“Sugar,” Holly drawled, “you can’t blame us for being gun-shy.”

“I bear you no ill will today.” He sobered. “Never have done, honestly.”

I remembered, vividly, the attacks on me and my abilities his site had gleefully posted all those years ago. “Even at the beginning?”

He shrugged. “It was never personal. It was what was being said. I lose credibility if I don’t report what people are saying.”

“Convenient,” Holly muttered and walked to the end of the line to order drinks.

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