have been drinking that night. The whole report implied the court of popular opinion had convicted him long ago. Perhaps this story was what had fueled all the jokes in Wachobe for all these years.
But somehow I doubted it. Brennan wasnât from Wachobe; he grew up in Albany, the stateâs capital, five hours southeast. Until today, I hadnât even known his father had moneyâor anything about his father at all. Granted, I didnât follow the news much and the local grapevine even less, but I would have heard this story about the car accident before now if it had made it to Wachobe. No, Brennan had arrived in our town ten years ago to start his contracting business untainted. The rumors that traveled the vine these days had to be linked to some other event. Perhaps now was the time to find out what it was. I could only hope it didnât paint Brennan in an even worse light.
After dinner, Ray had to drop us at the motel and head home for work, so I never got another word alone with him. He did tell Danny to stick close to me at the track the next day, a complete turnaround from earlier today. I wondered if that was for my protection or Dannyâsâor just Rayâs theory of safety in numbers. Surely he didnât think we were at risk of being run down ourselves?
_____
The next morning, Cory met Danny and me in the parking lot promptly at eight. His eyes appeared sunken into his head with dark circles highlighting his lack of sleep. He wore the same shirt and pants as last night, now creased and wrinkled after he appar ently slept in them. I didnât remark on it, but for Cory, a failure to attend to his appearance was a major indication of just how understandably rattled he was. I hadnât slept all that well myselfâvisions of my loved ones being pushed in front of cars and crushed to death kept waking me. Danny, however, slept like a rock and needed to be prodded to awaken and get dressed.
âLetâs grab some breakfast.â I pointed to the motel office, where weâd been assured a continental breakfast would be available each morning.
Danny took off at a fast clip; Cory shuffled along three paces behind me.
The motel owner looked up with a frown when we entered the office. âGood morning. Are you in room nine?â
Cory glanced at his key fob and lifted his eyebrows. âYes.â
Her frown deepened. âThese messages are for you. The press has been calling on and off all night. My husband and I didnât sleep a wink.â
I peeked at the pink message slips over Coryâs shoulder. The messages were addressed to Brennan Rowe, asking for interviews.
The manager fussed with some papers on the desk. âI donât know why theyâre calling here. Itâs 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 wouldnât stop phoning.â
A stricken look crossed Coryâs face. He crumpled the messages in his hand. âIâm sorry you and your husband were disturbed. Weâll be checking out this morning.â He laid his key on the counter and turned to me, waiting.
I set my key down next to his, demonstrating my solidarity. âCan we have our bills please?â
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. âArenât we staying for the races?â
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 Dannyâs. âWeâll get to see some racing this morning, but then we need to head out.â
I hoped the disappointment on Dannyâs face wouldnât add to Coryâs torment. He was too busy pulling his credit card from his