off the road or did you have a secondary purpose in mind?’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
I nodded at the moving van. ‘Did you plan on hijacking Alex’s car from me?’
Derek grinned. ‘Maybe.’
Suddenly, nothing made sense. If Derek had grabbed Alex’s car from the scruntineering bay, then he didn’t need to snatch it from me.
Derek nodded to his boys and they scurried back to their vehicles and got ready to leave. Dylan shifted into the van’s driver’s seat.
Derek opened the van’s passenger door for me and closed it when I got in. He peered over my shoulder into the back of the empty van. ‘If you think I took Alex’s car, you’re wrong. We were both too late for it. You should look outside of the racing community.’
He signalled to his guy to make room for us. Dylan didn’t wait to be told. As soon as there was a gap, he was back on the road and moving.
‘What did that mean?’ I asked.
‘I don’t care,’ Dylan said. ‘I’ll think about it when I’m a long way from here.’
Lap Eleven
‘ W e are so out of this,’ Dylan said. ‘We are so fucking out of this. Shotguns, Steve. They had shotguns. They weren’t for show. One word from Derek and we would have been dead. No ifs, ands or buts. Dead.’
Being held at gunpoint had been a sobering event for me, but not for Dylan. In the hours since the hijacking, he’d been storming up and down the workshop, bouncing off the walls and workbenches like a pinball reliving Derek’s roadside detour. I made no attempt to calm him. This was his way of dealing with the situation.
Steve had ignited Dylan the moment we got back to Archway when he asked, ‘How’d it go?’ Any chances of a calm and collected explanation went out the window.
Like me, Steve let Dylan rant. He wasn’t interested in an account from Dylan. He was waiting to hear it from me.
When Dylan finally ran out of steam, Steve asked, ‘You done?’
‘No, I’m not done.’
‘Well, I say you are. Take your foot off the throttle and get over here. I want to know what happened.’
Steve and I were standing around Graham Hill’s 1967 F1 Lotus. Steve was restoring it for ridiculous money for a collector in America. Dylan muttered something under his breath and trudged over to us.
‘Right, then,’ Steve said. ‘What happened?’
‘Someone took Alex’s car,’ I said.
‘Tell him what happened after that,’ Dylan chimed in. ‘That wasn’t the bad part.’
‘I get that,’ Steve said.
‘Will you let me finish?’ I said to Dylan.
Dylan put his hands in the air in surrender.
I filled Steve in. Dylan chipped in whenever I attempted to play down any part of our roadside encounter.
When I finished, Steve blew out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. ‘What do you want to do now?’
It was a damn good question. I’d attempted to come up with some information quietly in order to help kick start the police investigation, but somehow my actions had gotten loud and drawn too many people’s attention. People were shutting me out and I didn’t even have the luxury of the police to run to for help. I was pretty much buggered. Trying to do the right thing had thrust me into dangerous waters that were washing me down river, far from safety.
‘I can’t let this drop. Derek’s stunt has given me even more reason to keep pushing. I’m getting close to an answer. I have to be, or Derek wouldn’t be trying to shut me down.’
‘You’re crazy,’ Dylan said. ‘You’re going to get yourself killed and us with you. I’d be safer working on a ten-storey building in a gale than playing detective with you.’
‘Alex was murdered. Are you OK with that?’
‘Aidy, he could have killed us in that field,’ Dylan shouted.
‘But he didn’t.’
‘And that was our lucky break. I think we should embrace it and forget all about this,’ Dylan said.
Steve called our bickering to an end when he pushed himself off the workbench he’d been leaning against and
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
I nodded at the moving van. ‘Did you plan on hijacking Alex’s car from me?’
Derek grinned. ‘Maybe.’
Suddenly, nothing made sense. If Derek had grabbed Alex’s car from the scruntineering bay, then he didn’t need to snatch it from me.
Derek nodded to his boys and they scurried back to their vehicles and got ready to leave. Dylan shifted into the van’s driver’s seat.
Derek opened the van’s passenger door for me and closed it when I got in. He peered over my shoulder into the back of the empty van. ‘If you think I took Alex’s car, you’re wrong. We were both too late for it. You should look outside of the racing community.’
He signalled to his guy to make room for us. Dylan didn’t wait to be told. As soon as there was a gap, he was back on the road and moving.
‘What did that mean?’ I asked.
‘I don’t care,’ Dylan said. ‘I’ll think about it when I’m a long way from here.’
Lap Eleven
‘ W e are so out of this,’ Dylan said. ‘We are so fucking out of this. Shotguns, Steve. They had shotguns. They weren’t for show. One word from Derek and we would have been dead. No ifs, ands or buts. Dead.’
Being held at gunpoint had been a sobering event for me, but not for Dylan. In the hours since the hijacking, he’d been storming up and down the workshop, bouncing off the walls and workbenches like a pinball reliving Derek’s roadside detour. I made no attempt to calm him. This was his way of dealing with the situation.
Steve had ignited Dylan the moment we got back to Archway when he asked, ‘How’d it go?’ Any chances of a calm and collected explanation went out the window.
Like me, Steve let Dylan rant. He wasn’t interested in an account from Dylan. He was waiting to hear it from me.
When Dylan finally ran out of steam, Steve asked, ‘You done?’
‘No, I’m not done.’
‘Well, I say you are. Take your foot off the throttle and get over here. I want to know what happened.’
Steve and I were standing around Graham Hill’s 1967 F1 Lotus. Steve was restoring it for ridiculous money for a collector in America. Dylan muttered something under his breath and trudged over to us.
‘Right, then,’ Steve said. ‘What happened?’
‘Someone took Alex’s car,’ I said.
‘Tell him what happened after that,’ Dylan chimed in. ‘That wasn’t the bad part.’
‘I get that,’ Steve said.
‘Will you let me finish?’ I said to Dylan.
Dylan put his hands in the air in surrender.
I filled Steve in. Dylan chipped in whenever I attempted to play down any part of our roadside encounter.
When I finished, Steve blew out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. ‘What do you want to do now?’
It was a damn good question. I’d attempted to come up with some information quietly in order to help kick start the police investigation, but somehow my actions had gotten loud and drawn too many people’s attention. People were shutting me out and I didn’t even have the luxury of the police to run to for help. I was pretty much buggered. Trying to do the right thing had thrust me into dangerous waters that were washing me down river, far from safety.
‘I can’t let this drop. Derek’s stunt has given me even more reason to keep pushing. I’m getting close to an answer. I have to be, or Derek wouldn’t be trying to shut me down.’
‘You’re crazy,’ Dylan said. ‘You’re going to get yourself killed and us with you. I’d be safer working on a ten-storey building in a gale than playing detective with you.’
‘Alex was murdered. Are you OK with that?’
‘Aidy, he could have killed us in that field,’ Dylan shouted.
‘But he didn’t.’
‘And that was our lucky break. I think we should embrace it and forget all about this,’ Dylan said.
Steve called our bickering to an end when he pushed himself off the workbench he’d been leaning against and
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