Sharp Turn - Marianne Delacourt [41]
‘Look, saying you’re left field wasn’t meant as an insult, Tara.’
‘Right. Sure.’
‘I meant it as a compliment,’ he persisted.
I fidgeted, suddenly nervous about a bunch of things – Tozzi using his serious tone; whether I’d lost my tail; whether there’d been a tail in the first place. As well as feeling jumpy, I was starving.
‘Why are you always laughing at me?’ I said.
‘Because you amuse me.’
‘How condescendingly sweet of you!’
He made an exasperated noise and grabbed my shoulders. ‘Tara, why do you turn everything I say into a personal attack?’
‘Because that’s what it is.’
As his hands tightened, I got an odd sensation in my stomach. I glanced down and saw a bright energy cord running between us, belly button to belly button. It had happened twice before, and this time was no less unnerving. Maybe that’s why I can’t let go of the Nick Tozzi attraction. The cord pulsed like a high pressure hose whenever we got close.
I looked up to see him staring at the place where my red dress crossed over my breasts. His breathing pattern had changed and his aura was beginning to swamp me. I knew I had to get out of there. Something was about to happen that I’d really regret.
‘Um . . . look . . . I think dinner was a bad idea,’ I said, stepping back. ‘Thanks for your help, though. I have to go now. You don’t mind catching a taxi home, do you?’
Not waiting for a reply, I wrenched myself out of his grip and ran like hell.
As I passed the Stoned Crow on the way home, the neon sign advertising Sable’s caught my eye. I veered left and pulled into the car park. I needed to talk to Crack. And besides, I didn’t want to go home to my flat and sit there thinking about what had just happened.
I was soon perched at the bar, sipping a soda. Things were quiet, and Sable was out the back Skyping her cousin in Spain, so Crack was happy to plant himself opposite me with only the occasional nervous glance to the staff entrance.
‘How’s the job going?’ he asked.
‘Slowly,’ I said. ‘I was kinda hoping you could give me a speed update on a few things.’
His eyes took on the shine that told me he’d happily talk about bike racing well into his next life. ‘What did you want to know?’
‘You heard about any problems between Team Riley and Moto-Sane? Or between the mechanics? Apparently they had a fight out at the track. Cops got called in.’
‘Yeah? Well, I don’t know either of the wrenches, but I’ve heard they both came from the same works team in Europe.’
He poured himself a glass of lemonade. I was pleased to see it. Crack had a penchant for rum, and rum had a penchant for Crack. Together, they got a bit crazy. One time after a rum-and-cola night, Crack tried to jump off a flyover bridge in Claremont, just to see if he could. I tied him to the railing with his belt until we both sobered up. I guess drinking was another thing Sable had saved him from.
‘Which team?’ I asked.
‘Aprilia, I think.’
‘So they have a history?’
‘Could do.’
‘What about Gig Riley?’
‘Gig’s a pretty fine rider, but he’s not a natural like Bolo’s guy.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘It’s kinda hard to explain. Lemme think. You know how in basketball you get those players who can just do things without thinking? It’s like they see the gaps on the court. The really good billiards players are the same – they reckon they see the lines on the table. Well, bikes are no different. You can be technically good but not have the feel.’
‘The “one with the machine” thing?’
‘Sounds corny, but it’s actually true.’
‘So what about the father?’
‘Riley’s a hard bastard. Not someone you wanna cross from what I hear.’
‘And the other two? Bennett and Chesley?’
‘Chesley’s a partnership. You know Shakes the jeweller?’
I nodded.
‘It’s kind of a hobby for him. Same for the engineer guy, Hardwick. Fair bit of internal politics, so I hear.’
‘And Bennett?’
‘Honest-to-goodness racing family. Been doing it for years. The father used to race cars and the uncle was into speedway. They say the youngest Bennett girl is mad keen on drifting.