To Love and to Perish - By Lisa Bork Page 0,11

clip; Cory shuffled along three paces behind me.

The motel owner looked up with a frown when we entered the office. “Good morning. Are you in room nine?”

Cory glanced at his key fob and lifted his eyebrows. “Yes.”

Her frown deepened. “These messages are for you. The press has been calling on and off all night. My husband and I didn’t sleep a wink.”

I peeked at the pink message slips over Cory’s shoulder. The messages were addressed to Brennan Rowe, asking for interviews.

The manager fussed with some papers on the desk. “I don’t know why they’re calling here. It’s clear from the news this morning that your friend has been arrested and will be arraigned Monday morning. But once I made the mistake of saying he was registered here, they wouldn’t stop phoning.”

A stricken look crossed Cory’s face. He crumpled the messages in his hand. “I’m sorry you and your husband were disturbed. We’ll be checking out this morning.” He laid his key on the counter and turned to me, waiting.

I set my key down next to his, demonstrating my solidarity. “Can we have our bills please?”

Danny looked up from the table draped in a floral plastic tablecloth and covered with an assortment of juice boxes and packaged cheese and apple pastries that apparently passed for continental breakfast. “Aren’t we staying for the races?”

Obviously Danny was more interested in the race than concerned about Brennan and Cory. I hated to do it, but this time their needs had to take priority over Danny’s. “We’ll get to see some racing this morning, but then we need to head out.”

I hoped the disappointment on Danny’s face wouldn’t add to Cory’s torment. He was too busy pulling his credit card from his wallet for me to read his emotions.

The motel manager laid our bills on the counter. They reflected a two-night stay.

I picked up my bill. “I’m sorry; we’ve only been here one night.”

Her look was dismissive. “We only book for two-night stays on race weekends, when demand is so high. We charge for two nights whether you stay or not.”

I forked over my credit card and sent a reassuring smile toward Cory. He didn’t meet my eyes. I’d been his friend long enough to know that this whole situation was boring a hole in his heart and clouding his every thought. I trusted he knew that he had no need to feel any shame or embarrassment. And that I believed in Brennan just as much as he did. Trouble was, at this point, I wasn’t certain how much Cory did believe in Brennan.

We made the drive up the hill to the track in silence. Cory had turned on the radio news, which confirmed the motel manager’s statement. Brennan had in fact been charged in James Gleason’s death and would be arraigned first thing Monday morning. I wanted to call Ray to see if he could learn more inside information from his friend Ken but decided to wait until later in the day when Ray’s shift ended and we could talk freely The radio news didn’t mention the connection to Monica Gleason’s death. Perhaps that was old news already, even though I had yet to share it with Cory.

None of the other racers in the garage at the race track took much interest in us as we loaded the Mini into the trailer along with the easy-up tents, toolboxes, spare tires, racing slicks, jack stands, jacks, gasoline cans, and all the other paraphernalia associated with racing. The other drivers were all too busy and hyped for their own race to worry about or be interested in anyone else. Cars were already on the track, and the roar of their engines vibrated in the air, making my eardrums throb.

Danny may have been more affected by the whole situation than I thought. He didn’t pay any attention to the other race cars nearby, even though some of them were premium. And more than once, as we loaded the truck, I turned around to find him right on my tail. In fact, he stepped on the heel of my sneaker twice, the second time stripping it from my foot.

“Danny!”

“Sorry, Jolene.”

Yesterday, I’d been unable to keep him in sight. Now I couldn’t keep him off me. I sat on a tire to put my sneaker back on my foot. “You’re crowding me a little here, bud. What’s the problem?”

“Ray said to stay close.”

“Yes, he did. But that’s too close.”

Danny nodded and moved a few feet away, still glancing my