One Track Mind (10 page)

“Yes,” Lori said with a sigh. “I was
terrified
of getting pregnant.”

“Wise girl.”

“I mean, I was tempted—”

“Normal girl.”

“But I wasn’t ready, and we both knew we couldn’t be seen together in public. And he thought I was ashamed of him. And the bad thing is, in a way I
was
ashamed. He was so different from everybody else. I liked that in him, but it scared me, too. He wasn’t afraid to be different. But I was.”

“He marched to a different drummer,” Aileen said. “High school isn’t the greatest place for a nonconformist. In fact, it’s usually living hell.”

“I meant to tell him about going out with Scott. That my parents were starting to suspect something. And I really
did
want to go to the prom. I’d given up all the things that other girls did. I never thought that Kane would ask me. And yet—”

Her voice trailed off. Aileen gave her a knowing look. “Having a secret love stopped being quite so exciting. You were missing out on things. You wanted it both ways.”

Lori nodded, feeling ashamed. “Yes, I did. And I was used to getting what I wanted. I thought Kane should understand if he cared for me.”

“But you were thinking more about your own feelings than his.”

“Yes. And maybe I was trying to put some distance between us. Things were getting so intense, it was getting scary. Sometimes I wanted to be like other people again.”

Aileen reached over and patted Lori’s arm. “You were very young, my dear.”

“And spoiled,” Lori admitted. “I didn’t mean to hurt him that way. And then what A.J. did, that was terrible. I didn’t speak to him for months.”

“It
was
terrible. But what’s done is done. And I did suspect something was going on between you and Kane—from the way he’d look at you. You acted as if you didn’t dare look back. So what did it feel like, seeing him after all these years?”

“Strange, that’s all,” said Lori.

This was a lie. The old attraction had flared up as if it had never died. As a boy, he’d radiated a sense of danger, of the forbidden. As a man, he seemed far more dangerous. Lori feared that now he could hurt her as badly, or worse, than she had ever hurt him.

She shrugged and tried to seem cheerfully unconcerned. “How did it feel for you to see him again? To see how well he’s done for himself?”

“He was sweet,” Aileen said. “He thanked me for believing in him when he hardly believed in himself. I told him it was easy. He had a certain spark, that undefinable something. It was a blow when he left. But now he’s back.”

Now he’s back,
thought Lori.
The question is whether he’s literally back with a vengeance.

K
ANE CALLED HER
at the speedway the next morning. She wished her heart didn’t beat so fast and so hard at the sound of his voice.

He’d always spoken softly in a velvety voice and without a trace of a Southern accent. “Lori, it’s Kane. I’ve got the Cargill-Grosso team lined up for testing on the 1st and 2nd of July. On the evening of July 1st, we’ll have the barbecue. Kent will be there, and so will Dean. Roberto Castillo can’t attend, but he’ll donate autographed photos. Since the event’s so close to the 4th, I thought we’d have fireworks in the infield. Also a bluegrass group to play. Take down these numbers, will you?”

She snatched up her pen and began to write down numbers and notes.

“Some bunting, too,” he said. “And red and white balloons for the kids. Get in touch with this company…I may have some special Halesboro T-shirts made. Gotta check prices. Also, in ads and press releases, emphasize that kids under twelve get in free.”

“Free?” Lori said in disbelief. “We haven’t done that in years. We couldn’t afford to.”

“We can’t afford not to,” he countered. “We want our image to be like NASCAR—family-friendly. Free passes for kids give families a price break. On races, too.”

“Races, too!” she exclaimed.

“Think of young families on a tight budget. You want to appeal to them, be their best buy. It’s that or have empty seats. Also, free tickets for the press. We want coverage, and we want their goodwill.”

“You’re going to lose money on this,” she warned.

“Not in the long run. Also, I’m thinking of changing the name to Ledger’s Halesboro Speedway.”

Lori winced. She resented the idea, his appropriating the Halesboro racing heritage that her father had built. Tonelessly, she said, “It’s your decision.”

“I have to think about it,” he said. “Also thinking of have a special two-hundred-lap memorial race named in your father’s honor.”

Honor her father? Now she felt as if she were on a carnival ride that spun too swiftly. From resentment, she whirled into feeling deeply touched. “He’d like that. He’d love that.”

“He was decent to me. But I probably fell from grace big-time.”

“Yes. But he’d still be proud to have a race named for him.”

“Good. Now, for the next weekend after the Fourth, I’ll make reservations for you to go to the Illinois NASCAR Sprint Cup Series race with me. I want you there. And at the one in Pennsylvania early next month.”

Her mood took another 180 degree turn. He might be able to give her orders at the office, but could he take her weekends, too, demanding she travel hundreds of miles? How high-handed did he intend to get?

“Why do I need to go to Illinois? Or to Pocono?”

“I’m meeting some NASCAR people there. I want to run some ideas by them. And for you to talk about the Halesboro’s place in racing history and the fans’ affection. We double-team them.”

“I can’t afford it,” she said. “I’ve got debts.”

“I’ll pay for it. It’s a business expense.”

“People will talk,” she said uneasily.

“Who cares?” he said, a sudden edge in his voice. Did he remember that her cowardice had helped wreck their relationship? She could be seen at a dance with the homecoming king, but not Kane, the rebel who didn’t fit in.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath. “If you insist. What counts is the speedway.”

“Remember that,” he almost purred. “The speedway. You keep your word to your father. And, with luck, I make a bundle.”

“And that’s what this is about, isn’t it? You’re sure you can beat the odds and make a lot of money. And show everybody in Halesboro that you’re top gun.”

“What else would it be about?” he asked. He laughed, and something in that laugh came close to frightening her.

B
Y THE END OF THE DAY
, Lori slumped in exhaustion over her desk. She’d spent all day talking to a seemingly endless string of people. Party suppliers. Vendors. The printer who did the Kent and Dean Grosso posters. The manager of the Bluegrass String Band, an up-and-coming folk-country group. Catering companies. The Magic Dragon Fireworks Company.

A desultory rain drummed at her window. Her head spun with names, instructions, recommendations, estimates, prices and enough details to boggle her mind for days. Clyde stopped by just as she was straightening her cluttered desk.

“You’re working late,” he said.

“Kane Ledger has big plans. I take care of the grunt work.”

“Want a ride home?” Clyde asked, leaning against her door frame. “It’s wet out there.”

“I’d love one,” she said with feeling.

“I should’ve asked sooner. I had a list of stuff to do, too. There’s a feller coming to give an estimate on replacing the scoreboard. Another company to make recommendations on cleaning up pit road. And an expert to eyeball the track surface. That Kane, he thinks of everything, doesn’t he?”

“He certainly does,” she agreed with a sigh.

“Kinda wanted to talk to you, too,” Clyde said. “I’ve heard tell of some funny things happenin’ around town.”

“Funny things?” she echoed.

“Tell you when I pick you up. Meet me in the lot in five minutes?”

Five minutes later, she reached the parking lot, her umbrella up, her book bag filled with paperwork. Clyde’s truck pulled up, he helped her load the Vespa into the back, and she got into the passenger’s seat. As he started the engine, she turned to him.

“So what’s happening in town?”

“Nobody yet knows who bought Junior McCorkle’s castle,” Clyde said, tilting the bill of his cap up. “And nobody knows much what’s going on. It’s mysterious. Now the same lawyer
phoned up Liz and made an offer on the old Military Theater. He’s representin’ somebody. But who? Nobody knows.”

Lori frowned quizzically. “The Military Theater? It’s been closed for
years.
What would anybody want with it?”

“I don’t know,” Clyde said. “Most little town picture shows closed years ago. People go to the video store or drive over to Henderson or Asheville to a multiplex.”

“Do you think it’s the same person who bought the castle?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. But they asked Liz about other properties. Like the old hotel.”

“The Bostwick? It closed when track attendance fell—that was over four years ago. I mean it was a beautiful building once, but it’s been empty so long.”

“Yup. Take some major fixin’ up. But this caller was interested in pretty near all property for sale ’round Halesboro. No offer. Just a heckuva lot of
askin’.
”

Lori’s brow creased in puzzlement. “Why the sudden interest? What’s up? Is there something about Halesboro we don’t know? Are we going to become some kind of hot spot?”

“Not that I’ve heard.” Clyde shrugged. “About all we got here these days is a lot of scenery.”

“And a lot of outsiders suddenly interested in real estate,” mused Lori. “Including the Devlin Corporation. I wonder if Kane knows anything about this. Knows but isn’t telling.”

A
SPORTS AGENT
must not only understand sports, he must understand money—how it moved, where it moved and why.

This meant Kane not only understood key sports like NASCAR, he’d developed a sixth sense about business. Maybe it was that he was naturally competitive. Maybe it was because he’d grown up poor as dirt, and, now that he was rich, he intended to stay that way.

Kent Grosso joked that if a dollar crinkled in Seattle, Kane heard it in Charlotte and his ears would perk up like a fox’s.

That wasn’t true. Kane didn’t bother trying to hear dollars crinkle. Instead, he tried to anticipate trends, to hear the
earliest promising rumors, to sniff them on the wind, to see the writing on the wall when it was still only the faintest of preliminary pencil marks.

There were things that he hadn’t yet told most of his clients and that he certainly hadn’t told Lori. She was already nervous about his wheeling and dealing. But wheeling and dealing were what he did.

She liked the old ways best, sticking to tradition. What he had in mind were new ways that blew tradition to hell. But at this point, what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

“S
OMETHING’S
up,” said Liz Bitcon. “Real estate’s been in a slump for years in this town. Now I’m getting queries about all sorts of property. Most come through different law firms in Charlotte. But some are from as far away as Missouri—and New Jersey, believe it or not.”

Liz and Lori sat in Lori’s office having coffee. The pungent scent of fresh paint wafted from farther down the hall.

Lori blinked in surprise. “Missouri? New Jersey? I heard that somebody was asking about the hotel and the Military Theater…”

Liz, a tall woman with a spill of ash-blond curls, leaned closer. “Listen,” she said in a low voice. “Please don’t repeat this. But one call was about the old mill buildings.”

Lori blinked even harder. “Uncle June’s mills? They’ve been empty for years! Who’d want them? And why?”

“You tell me,” Liz said earnestly. “I mean they were built very well. But to make them into anything else would take a fortune. I don’t know if this is connected to Junior’s castle or not. And I still don’t know who bought
that.
”

“You have no idea?”

“None. Officially, the purchaser is an organization called Smith-Smith, Inc. of Charlotte. It’s got no address, no phone, only a post office box and answering service. I’ve searched all over the Internet, but I can’t find out who’s behind it. It could be anybody.”

“Smith-Smith?” Lori frowned. “It’d be hard to be vaguer. Do you think it’s legit?”

“My worst nightmare is it’s some kind of shell corporation that could be a cover-up.” Liz rolled her eyes heavenward. “I pray not.”

“But the castle’s going to stay a residence? At least that’s what I heard.”

“There are workmen coming and going, but nobody’s talking about what they’re doing to the place.”

“How could they not talk?” Lori demanded.

Liz shrugged. “Most of them are specialists and come here, stay on the grounds until their part’s done, then they go back to where they came from. They’re using the carriage house as a sort of combined bunkhouse and eating place.”

Lori tried not to flinch at the words
carriage house.
They brought unwanted memories surging back: being in Kane’s arms, hungrily kissing and being kissed, and the touching that had both excited and frightened her. But Lori’s expression must have betrayed her.

Liz gave her a sharp look. “You never really got over him, did you? Kane, I mean.”

“It was puppy love, and it didn’t last long,” Lori said, but a blush heated her cheeks. Liz, who’d been her friend since kindergarten, had been the first to guess that she and Kane were infatuated. And Liz kept the secret, but, trying to be kind, kept warning Lori against him. “He’s the kind of guy who can go wrong,” she’d said. “It’s written all over him.”

Now Liz gave her a long, serious look. “Most people think Kane’s back because he resents Halesboro, that he’s trying to prove he’s a very big deal. And you know what people are saying about you two, don’t you?”

Lori tensed. “Nobody’s said anything—to my face.”

“Half the town thinks he came back because he still wants you.”

“That’s not true,” Lori protested, not letting herself think such a thing.

“The other half thinks he’s going to even the score with you. You hurt him. And, if you let him, he’ll hurt you back.”
She put her hand atop Lori’s. “We’ve been friends for over thirty years. I do
not
want to see you harmed—not your emotions or your reputation.”

Liz withdrew her hand, reached into her big canvas tote and pulled out a copy of Charlotte’s most influential paper, folded to a page in the sports section. “Seen today’s news?”

She offered it to Lori, who took it with a frisson of apprehension.

Liz said. “This may help fill in the blanks about what’s happening here.”

Lori gazed at a black-and-white photo that showed Kane, wearing a suit and tie, sitting at a table with an older man and a young woman, an extremely beautiful brunette in a low-cut dress. Lori swallowed hard and read the picture’s cut line.

“Sports agent Kane Ledger (right) dines with business magnate D. B. Horning and his daughter Zoey at Barrington’s.”

The article beneath carried the headline New NASCAR Sponsor In The Offing?

Charlotte sports agent Kane Ledger was spotted having an intent supper conversation at Barrington’s with D. B. Horning, the flamboyant Missouri entrepreneur.

Is Ledger angling for a new sponsor for his sometimes problematic NASCAR driver Justin Murphy? Or is Horning interested in sponsoring another of Ledger’s charges?

Horning’s daughter Zoey, a former Miss Missouri, seems to listen with interest. She is currently vice-president of real estate development and acquisitions at the Horning organization.

“There could be a connection,” Liz said. “First, I got a query from a law firm in Missouri. That’s where Horning’s from. Second, he brought his daughter, who specializes in real
estate development and acquisition. These people may not be talking about a NASCAR sponsorship at all. They may be talking about Halesboro.”

The suggestion unsettled Lori, but she found herself concentrating more on the photo, the way Zoey Horning was looking at Kane. It seemed she found
him
more interesting than the conversation. A beauty queen with a seductive gaze and sensual lips, she was clearly pleased by what she saw.

Kane stared back at the young woman with the sort of smile that suggested he and she shared a secret, perhaps an intimate one. A humiliating dart of jealousy penetrated Lori’s heart.

This
was the kind of woman Kane could have now. She looked to be no more than twenty-four or twenty-five, she was exquisitely groomed, and an impressive double string of pearls hung from her neck and nestled in her even more impressive cleavage.

“Of course,” Liz said with a dismissive wave, “it may mean nothing at all. But when I go back to my office, I’m going to do an Internet search for D. B. Horning. I never heard of him before, and I want to know if there’s any reason he’d be interested in Halesboro.”

She drank the last of her coffee, then picked up her tote and stood. “I need to get back. Keep the paper. And let me know if you learn anything, okay?”

“Sure,” Lori said, trying not to look at the picture again. “Thanks for stopping by. And if anybody’s interested in pricing even more Halesboro property, keep me posted, will you?”

“Will do. And take it easy, friend. You’ve been on an emotional roller coaster these last weeks. Save some time for yourself for a change.”

“Sounds good,” Lori said, forcing a smile.

“Ciao, kiddo.”

“Right. See you later.” As soon as Liz closed the door behind her, Lori snatched up the paper again and studied the photo of Horning, Zoey and Kane. Was the picture the real reason that
Liz had brought the paper? To show Lori that some kind of un-disguised chemistry flowed between Zoey and Kane?

Her friend’s words echoed ominously in her mind: “I do
not
want to see you harmed.” And if she allowed herself to care for him again, he had the power to humiliate her far worse than she had him.

Right. Letting an old crush reclaim her was the stupidest thing she could do. She needed to lock herself in a small, dull cage, safe from her own feelings.

L
IZ PHONED
L
ORI
an hour later. “This is getting weirder and weirder,” she said, sounding stunned. “A Realtor just called me for prices on three more empty buildings. The old Spellman Drugstore, Stoner’s Photography and MacIntyre’s Sewing Supplies.”

“What?”
Lori asked, feeling as if she were Alice falling down the rabbit hole. “A Realtor from Missouri? Or New Jersey?”

“Neither,” Liz said dryly. “Las Vegas.”

Lori’s mind whirled giddily. “Why would anybody in Vegas want three deserted shops in a town where they roll up the sidewalks at night? Something’s going on, all right. But I’ll bet Kane knows what.”

“And
that’s
why he bought the speedway,” Liz said, her voice edged with suspicion. “He has some kind of information, but he’s not sharing it. Outside forces might be trying to buy up this town. That somebody plans on changing this place big-time.”

Lori’s stomach went queasy. “But they won’t change it back to what it was, not the town we knew.”

“What it was didn’t work,” Liz reminded her. “That was one of the strikes against the speedway. Except for the castle, it was the only attraction here.”

“I don’t want to see this town become a tourist trap,” Lori said with conviction. “I’m going to call Kane and
demand
to know what’s going on.”

“At least I might get some real estate commissions,” Liz said wistfully.

“Do you want a bunch of strangers buying our home town from under us?”

“Better that than watching it dry up and blow away.”

But Lori had visions of her old family home turned into an upscale bed and breakfast for yuppies. Of somebody putting a pitch-and-putt golf course on one of the old horse farms. The empty shops on Main Street would become boutiques full of designer clothes and overpriced knickknacks.

Or a horse farm could turn into an amusement park, garish with Ferris wheels and screaming roller coasters, and cheap carnival games. Main Street could become a strip of T-shirt shops and fast food franchises and stores full of cheesy souvenirs.

“I’m going to call Kane right
now,
” she told Liz. And she meant it.

S
USAN
H
AVERSHAM RAPPED
at Kane’s doorframe, her expression uneasy. “That Garland woman’s calling from Halesboro,” she said. “She wants to talk to you right now. She sounds unhappy. As in
dangerously
unhappy.”

Susan, tall and imperious, wasn’t used to people that she couldn’t chill into submission. She considered Kane to be the king of the office, but she was the viceroy, the captain of the guards and, above all, the gatekeeper. Kane stifled a smile, wondering what the little redhead had said to shake the usually unshakeable Susan.

“Put her call through,” he told her. “I’ll take it.”

Susan gave a huff of disapproval and stomped back to her desk. Kane’s desk phone buzzed, and he let it buzz five times, just for the sport of it. Then he picked it up.

“Ledger Agency. This is Kane Ledger.”

“And this is Lori Garland,” she said, clearly in high dudgeon. “Some strange stuff is happening up here. Concerning real estate. Lots of it. And I think you know why. You haven’t been
telling me the whole story.” She paused ominously, then accused, “I think you have
insider’s knowledge—
and are acting on it.”

He gave a short laugh. “Doing that’s illegal in stock trading. Not in buying property.”

“What’s going on? Liz got queries today about the hotel, the pharmacy, the photographer’s studio and the sewing store.”

He frowned. He’d expected a query on the old Ming Toy Restaurant, as well. Why hadn’t
that
happened?

“Good for Liz,” he said pleasantly. “I imagine that her business had been slow for a while. Now she’s getting nibbles. You should be happy for her.”

“Yesterday somebody wanted to know about the mills. The mills! Why’s Halesboro so popular lately? What do these people know that we don’t? What do you know that you aren’t telling me?”

“I don’t know anything for certain,” he hedged. “I don’t have a crystal ball. But there are places where old mill buildings have sold. Happened up in Manchester, New Hampshire, a while back. Converted them into offices, stores, restaurants…great success story.”

“Don’t tell me about New Hampshire when I asked you about Halesboro,” she retorted.

He couldn’t hold back a wry smile. She was still independent—and feisty. He’d expected his return to Halesboro would have humbled her a little. No. Not her.

“The economy’s in flux,” he said vaguely. “Sometimes certain investments seem hot—but aren’t. And vice versa. Right now, speculators can buy low in Halesboro. Is it a smart buy? Time will tell.”

“You paid full price for the speedway. Did you know things would be happening in Halesboro? You’re foxy about money. Is there going to be a boom here?”

He laughed again. “Foxy? No. Lucky? Yes. A boom? In this economy, a boom can go bust overnight.”

“You’re foxy,” she persisted. “You started out with nothing and ended up rich.”

His smile died. He could have said
And your family started out with a fortune and ended up with next to nothing.
He knew about money because he’d learned the hard way. Until the last five years, she’d never had to worry. When it came to business, she was a rookie. But rookie or not, she was still as dauntless as she’d been at sixteen.

“You keep saying the speedway will succeed. Why are you sure?” she challenged. “Are you involved in
making
something happen? Are you right in the middle of it?”

She was good, he had to admit. She should have been nearly down and out, but she was still so bright, so bold. Was it her old arrogance, that of the pampered princess? Or was it simply that she had a character that wouldn’t, that
couldn’t
bow easily to circumstance?

He pictured her, sitting in her office, probably, her golden-red hair tied back in a pony tail, her green eyes full of spirit, and her chin set at a stubborn angle. He chose his words carefully. “I don’t want to talk about it. Not now. Maybe when I come up there for the testing and the barbecue.”

“That’s still weeks away,” she countered. “I want to know
now.
”

“Now’s not the right time. You’re going to have to trust me.”

“Trust you,” she repeated tonelessly.

“Right. Things might come to pass that help the town, the track, the whole county.
Might.
Or might not. I don’t have happy memories of Halesboro—”