Dangerous Race Read Free Page A

hour.
    It felt great. Beautiful. The one place she belonged in life—her car—where everything made sense.
    Three laps down and only one to go. Her speed was right up there with the best. She was part of the machine, each lap faster than the one before. She’d broken a sweat early on and she was in the zone.
    “Trace, you’re in.” Joe’s voice crackled over the wire. “Don’t push it.”
    “This is hardly pushing it. I can score the inside position in my row with another lap this fast.”
    “Trace, we talked about this.” Joe sounded as if someone was tightening his belt as he spoke.
    Another voice came over the headset. “Joe, hey Joe, you all right?”
    Tracey’s radar shot up. “What’s going on?”
    Nothing. No one answered.
    “Joe, what’s happening? Over.” Again, no response, and her palms prickled. “Joe?” she asked louder. The hair on her nape stood on end.
    “Trace, it’s Matthew.” He rarely spoke on the headset, and his voice confirmed her worry. “Look, you’re in so take it nice and steady to the finish.”
    “What’s going on? What happened to Joe?” Dread topped apprehension.
    “We’re not sure, Trace. He grabbed his arm.”
    His heart! Shit! “Find his pills. I’ll be right there.” Twenty seconds later, she skidded to a stop at her pit, sprang from the car and flew to the crowd of men hovering over Joe. Throwing off her helmet, she knelt next to Eddie. Matthew crouched on Joe’s other side, and Joe still gripped his arm. Panic, fresh and scary, shot through Tracey.
    Joe looked up at her with apologetic eyes and gasped for air. “You’re going to have to…do this one without me, Trace.”
    She tried to be strong for Joe’s sake. “No way, Uncle Joe. I can’t do that. If this is your way of getting back at me for going over the white line, then I have to say it sucks. Now cut it out, and get up already.”
    Joe shook his head and winced. “No game, baby girl. This is…the real deal.” He struggled to breathe.
    Desperation twisted Tracey’s stomach in a knot. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not to Joe. She looked around frantically. “Where are his pills?” she screamed.
    “Took ’em, ” Joe muttered. “Not working this time.” He gasped again.
    “Joe, you can’t do this. I need you way too much for you to do this,” Tracey pleaded. She stroked the side of his face, as if a tender touch was all he needed to recover.
    “You be nice to whoever…comes…in here,” he rasped. “You can win this thing…blindfolded. Just be…smart.” His body jolted as if hit by an electrical current. Then he was still.
    Hot tears cropped up as she grabbed his shoulders. “Joe!” She shook him. “Uncle Joe!” She couldn’t find a pulse. Oh God, she had to do something. “CPR,” she ordered. “Matthew, help me.” She tilted Joe’s head and started mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. One, two hard puffs of all the air she could manage.
    Matthew started pumping Joe’s chest. They worked together, like their team always had, until paramedics arrived minutes later and took over. In vain.
     
    Chelsea Harding looked around the empty conference room of her Chicago office. Four years ago she’d been on top of the world, but now she wanted to choke on the desolate taste of failure. The last thirteen months had been a downward spiral and she couldn’t do anything but watch the crash and burn. Through glass windows, she saw her last employee close the door behind her for the final time.
    Kim Jacobs, her best friend and business partner, walked in and leaned against the doorframe. Despite the somber mood, the hazel-eyed blonde looked ready for a party. Dressed in a tight, green baby-doll shirt, black miniskirt and high-heel sling backs, the woman’s body practically shouted single, willing and able. Of which all three were true if a man had the right qualifications. Number one being a healthy bank account.
    “I just can’t believe it’s over.” Kim leaned her head