Chapter 125 Let the Race Begin
The smell of gasoline and motor oil was akin to fine wine as Case followed the pace car around the track. This was it, exactly what he’d been waiting for since that final race in Miami where he’d lost the championship by such a slim margin. Now was the time to prove himself, to show everyone he was still a great, champion-caliber, racecar driver.
Every muscle in his body was taut with nervous anticipation. He took deep calming breaths, listening to the conversation on his radio. Brad and Truitt were talking about who would want to work with him. He saw other cars around him that were of the same make and knew those were his friends. Charlie was several rows back since he hadn’t had the best run during his dual race, but he’d make up ground quickly enough, Case thought. Then, they’d be able to work together.
He had five hundred miles of driving to do. Five hundred fast pace, white knuckle, thrill ride driving that could only end one of two ways—with him in victory lane or with disappointment. Anything less than first place wasn’t acceptable.
The chatter on the radio got more intense as the pace car turned the yellow flashing lights off. Case knew that meant this was their last lap around. He had to assume his car was still in good shape, that Sarah hadn’t messed with anything else. How she’d managed to get to his water hose was beyond him, but he’d seen his team check the lug nuts on every tire and the gas tank, as well as under the hood. He had to believe when he put his foot on the gas pedal, the car would go.
The pace car ducked down off of the race track toward pit road, and the flag man standing up on a tower above the race track to his right waved the green flag. In his ear, Truitt called, “Green, green, green!”
Since Case had won the pole position, he would start the race. He had an invisible box that was within so many feet of that green flag to give the car a punch of gas and take off, hopefully getting him out in front of the rest of the cars. If he timed it wrong, the car to his left, which happened to be Stewart Antony, Sarah’s new boyfriend, could get ahead of him.
Case was an expert at starting races having had several pole positions every year of his career. He started to hit the gas, laid off slightly, and then punched it, all in an effort to confuse the rest of the drivers. It worked, and by the time he passed the flag man, he was out in front and sailing toward turn one.
The car seemed to be just as great as it had been when he’d last driven it at practice. Smooth and quick as lightning. He set out for turn two, a car length ahead of the others, a smile taking over his face.
Suddenly, Truitt’s voice sounded in his ear. “Caution is out! Caution is out!”
“What the hell?” Case asked, wondering how in the world anyone managed to wreck on the first lap. He came back around the track so that he could see what had happened, and his mouth hung open. A loose wheel was bouncing around the track, coming hard and fast through the tail end of the field, hitting several cars. But that wasn’t the worst of it. Up ahead, he saw a car in the wall—hard—with a ton of damage to the nose. He imagined that’s where the tire had come from.
“How does a car lose an entire wheel on lap one?” Truitt murmured in his ear.
Brad responded that he had no idea how that had happened. “It looked like a clean start to me, like everyone was just sailing along, falling into line.”
But when Case saw whose car it was, there was no question. He knew how. The familiar colors of the car told him who it was before he even saw the number. “Gordon Jones…. I know how he lost his tire.” Case slammed his hand down on the steering wheel and muttered a curse word. Sarah had struck again.
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