Janet Evanovich - Motor Mouth (Alex Barnaby Series #2)

MOTOR MOUTHJanet EvanovichONE

Sometimes theres a decision to be made between winning fairly and cheating for a good cause.And sometimes, in the heat of competition, Ive slipped south of fair. So I understand thetemptation. But heres the thing about cheatingdont cheat me. I take it personally.

And I was pretty sure I had my eye on a guy who was cheating at my expense. He was wearinga red suit. He was driving a flashy car with a big 69 painted on the side. And he was going toofast. I had my binoculars trained on him as he took a turn, his left-front tire tight to the curve.

I was standing on the flat roof of the Homestead-Miami Speedway grandstand, getting a birdseye view of the scrubby Florida landscape. Heat waves shimmered on the track below me, andthe air was thick with fumes from scorched rubber, high-octane gas, and the euphoria NASCARbrings to a race. I was with forty-two guys on the roof. I was the only one on the roof wearing apink lace thong. At least I was almost certain I was the only one in a thong since I was the onlyfemale, but hell, what do I know? I was wearing tight black jeans and a Stiller Racing shirt. Theshirt had short sleeves, was white with black and gold trim, and the Stiller Racing logo wasembroidered on the front. The embroidered name on the back was a garage joke: Motor Mouth.Im Sam Hookers race-day spotter. Im the lip-glossed, bleached blonde who whispers intoHookers ear while he sweats his brains out in a black-and-gold fire-resistant jumpsuit eachweek.

This week Hooker was running his black Metro-sponsored car around and around theHomestead 1.5-mile oval. It was the last race of the season and I was looking forward to achange of pace. I love my job, but there comes a time when a girl just wants to shimmy into asexy little dress and sip a cosmo at a restaurant that doesnt feature barbecue. Not that I dontlike barbecue, but Id had alot of it lately.

Hookers voice was loud and clear in my headset. Earth to Motor Mouth. Talk to me.Im thinking thoughts that cant go public.Are these thoughts about getting naked? Hooker asked.No, theyre about getting even.Listen, it was an accident, I swear. I was drunk and I dont remember a thing. I dont knowhow I ended up in bed with that salesclerk. Darlin, youknow I love you.Mental head slap. Not that, you moron. Im talking about the race.

Hooker got his start on Texas dirt tracks. Hes raced open-wheel karts, trucks, and everything inbetween. Hes my age but he looks like a college kid. Sun-bleached blond hair, and a nice bodythats got some muscle and stands a couple inches taller than me. The difference between Hookerand the college kid is in Hookers eyes. There are lines at the corners that tell his age and grit.And theres a depth that comes from living hard and gaining something from it.

Id done some racing when I was in high school. Strictly local amateur stuff. Id wreck the cars,and then Id fix them up in my dads garage in Baltimore. Turned out I was a lot better at fixingthem than racing them, so I bailed on the driving and got an engineering degree instead. Hookerisnt worth anything as a mechanic, but he can really run a car. Ive worked as his spotter andalso as part of his R & D team for an entire season, thirty-six Cup races, and Im knocked out byhis consistently aggressive attitude and his ability to drive.

There are those who question Hookers balls-to-brain ratio. Ive never seen an X-ray of his head,so Im taking a winger on his brain, but Ive seen the other equipment in question and Im prettyconfident the ratio is two to one.

Id been involved in a romantic relationship with Hooker when Id taken the job with Stiller.And Id been idiot enough to think the relationship was serious. Hooker had proved me wrong atfour months with a one-night stand that had gotten splashed onto every tabloid. I was now overHookerpretty much. The only thing I was currently serious about was my job. I was devoted toStiller Racing.

Youve done two hundred and forty-four laps, I said. You have twenty-three laps to go. Thered sixty-nine car is four car lengths in front of you.

The 69 was sponsored by Lube-A-Lot and owned by Huevo Motor Sports, a Mexicanpowerhouse with money to burn on race cars. Huevo built good cars, but sometimes the 69wastoo good, and I was willing to put money down that the 69 car was cheating, running withillegal technology.

Four car lengths, Hooker said to me. Thats too much.Do something.

I can tell you when its safe to pass, and when its okay to pit, and when theres trouble ahead.Being that Im up here on the roof, and youre down there on the track, and Ive left my magicvoodoo dust back in the motor coach, its going to be hard for me todo something.

And that was when the big one happened. The monster car crash that car owners dread and fanslove. A Stiller car driven by Nick Shrin got loose, slid out of its groove, and the car following itmade contact and punted Shrin into the wall. Six other cars got caught in the wreck and wereinstantly turned into twisted, shredded scrap metal. Fortunately, they were all behind Hooker.

When racing resumed and everyone lined up for the restart, the gap would be closed between thered 69 Lube-A-Lot car and Hookers Metro car.Back her down, I told Hooker. You just got lucky.What happened?Shrin got loose and hit the wall, and after that he was hit by everyone except you and the pacecar.

The caution flag was out and the field was frozen until the mess could be cleared. Stiller Racingruns three Cup cars. Hooker drives one. Larry Karna drives another. And Nick Shrin drives theyellow-and-red car sponsored by YumYum Snack Cakes. Nicks a good driver and a goodperson, and I was experiencing some anxiety about him right now. Stock cars are entered andexited via the drivers-side window, and Shrin hadnt yet climbed out. I had my binocularstrained on him, but I couldnt tell much. He was still in his restraint system, still had his helmeton, visor down. The car was surrounded by emergency workers. A bunch of cars were trashed inthe crash, but Shrin was the only driver not yet out of his.

Whats going on? Hooker wanted to know.Shrins still in his car.

Shrins spotter was standing next to me. His name is Jefferson Davis Warner, and everyone callshim Gobbles. Hes in his early thirties, his ears stick out, his brown hair sticks up, and he has anose that got smashed in a bar fight and was left slightly crooked. Hes gangly legged and railthin, and his hands and feet are too big for his bodysort of a cross between a fluffy-headedcrane and a Great Dane puppy. He eats nonstop and never gains an ounce. Im told he got thename Gobbles when he was in school and was always first in the lunch line. I guess itsironically appropriate that hes now on the YumYum Snack Cake team. He has a good heart, andhes a good spotter. And like a lot of people in the program, when Gobbles got out of theNASCAR bubble, he wasnt the sharpest tack on the corkboard. He could calculate pit roadspeed from a tach reading, but he couldnt tell a con man from a cow flop. It all smelled the sameto Gobbles. Right now his face was white, and he had the rail in a death grip.

How is he? I asked Gobbles. Is he talking to you?No. I heard him hit the wall, and since then theres been nothing but silence. Hes not sayinganything.

Every spotter was binoculars up on the YumYum car. Conversation on the roof was hushed. Noone moved. If a driver was really in trouble, a tarp would be raised, shielding him from view. Ihad my teeth sunk into my lower lip, and my stomach clenched into a knot, praying not to see thetarp.

Rescue workers were at both side windows. The EMT at the drivers window backed out. Hehad Shrin in tow. They strapped Shrin onto a stretcher. I still couldnt see much. Too manypeople at the accident scene. NASCAR came on over their own frequency and announced thatShrin was conscious and going for tests. The PA system relayed it. An audible sigh of relief wentup from the stands. Spotters backed off, using the break in action to scarf down junk food orsmoke or rush to the mens room.

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