weird and standoffish ever since we got here. He keeps disappearing with no reason or excuse. And the other night at home he got a phone call from a guy. He locked himself in his office and talked for over an hour, then got angry when I asked who it was.”
All right, that would make me suspicious, too. I couldn’t even think of a way to put a positive spin on it. “Are you still driving in the race?”
“I guess so. Maybe I’ll see him on the sidewalk.”
“Okay. Well, be careful and concentrate. It’s pretty slick out.”
“Yes, mom. Keep your eye out for Brennan.”
“Done.” I snapped my cell phone closed.
The noise of approaching engines drew our attention to the street. First a local sheriff’s SUV appeared, lights flashing, then the official Chevrolet Camaro pace car, and finally the vintage and classic cars. First an Allard passed us, followed by a Bugeye Sprite, a Porsche 356 Bathtub, and an open-top Formula Junior, the driver wearing old-time leather headgear and goggles, his yellow scarf embroidered with his car number flapping in the wind. All the cars’ passengers waved to the crowd as their drivers cleared the turns and gunned their engines up Franklin. Dozens of cars passed by, including the Mini Cooper with Cory, who didn’t seem to notice Danny and me waving to him. It didn’t seem like as many cars as in years past, but the weather conditions might have put some drivers off. Open-top cars and racing slicks mixed with rain didn’t make things festive.
After the first parade lap ended and the roar of the engines faded into the hills, I noticed Danny was fidgeting. “What’s wrong?”
“I have to go to the bathroom.”
“We can go over to the store across the street. The cars won’t come around again for a few minutes.” I started to step off the curb.
Danny pushed ahead of me. “I can go by myself.”
“Ah … okay. I’ll wait right here. Come right back when you’re done.” I watched as he crossed the street and disappeared into the store, wondering when Ray would rejoin us. Danny would have let Ray accompany him. I wasn’t certain I’d done the right thing in letting Danny go alone. This crowd was huge and filled with all sorts of unknowns. What was keeping Ray anyway?
The cars were approaching again. I hesitated, trying to decide if I should dash across the street ahead of their arrival to follow Danny.
As I checked the cars’ locations, I spotted a sandy-haired man with a deep tan a few yards away from me. He seemed to be in a heated conversation with a red-haired man who had his back to me. The redheaded man’s arms waved through the air and the sandy-haired man’s face appeared flushed. All I could see of the redhead was his royal blue windbreaker and jeans. A woman in a bright pink raincoat, her face obscured by its hood, clung to the redhead’s arm. It looked like she was trying to pull him away.
I recognized the sandy-haired guy. After all, not very many men had Robert Redford’s movie star looks and charm. It was Brennan Rowe.
He had an expression on his face I’d seen last Thanksgiving when Danny got angry, stole my Porsche, and backed it into the rear quarter panel of Brennan’s Mercedes by accident. It was a tolerant, patient, understanding expression. His flush may have related to anger from the redhead’s words or embarrassment from the unwanted attention of the surrounding crowd who pretended not to listen as the redhead ranted, but, either way, Brennan seemed to be keeping his cool.
I tried to move a little closer to him to listen, all the while keeping one eye on the store entrance that had swallowed my boy.
The sheriff’s car passed in front of us again, followed by the pace car. One after another, the vintage cars made the right turn off 409 and hit the gas to fly up Franklin, putting on a show for the admiring crowd.
Brennan broke off his conversation and headed toward me. I called to him but he didn’t seem to hear. The cars were too loud.
The crowd closed in around him. Although the majority of spectators remained stationary roadside, a throng continually moved up and down the sidewalk, making it too difficult for me to grab Brennan as he passed. The man and woman he had been talking to disappeared in the mass.
I moved down the curb toward Brennan, who had gotten stalled by a