Chapter 18
Hank leaned his shoulder into the tent pole and let the noise of the celebration wash over him for a minute.
The team dinner had turned into more of a loose, wandering gathering; half the paddock seemed to be crammed under the big hospitality tent, plates balanced on laps, beer bottles sweating on folding tables.
Someone had dragged a speaker over; classic rock threaded through the hum of voices and the occasional burst of laughter.
Brian stood near the buffet, telling a story with his hands as much as his mouth. Colby was perched on a cooler with his tablet on his knees, alternating between taking notes and swatting at Brian when he got too close.
Across the way, Bree stood with Carmen, the two of them forming a small island in the chaos. Bree’s head was tipped back in laughter; the sight hit him as hard as any adrenaline spike he’d had all weekend.
He felt Diaz before he saw her; a shift in the air, a different kind of alertness.
“James,” she said at his elbow.
He straightened. “Sergeant.”
She wore plain clothes tonight, dark jeans and a Copper Moon Cup staff T-shirt, her badge clipped to her belt instead of riding her chest. It did nothing to make her look less like she could take down half the tent with a raised eyebrow.
“Relax,” she said, reading his stance. “I’m off duty in about thirty minutes. Right now, I’m just a woman who wants a paper plate of pulled pork before Brian eats it all.”
“He will,” Hank said. “You should probably cut in line.”
She smiled briefly, then nodded toward Bree. “How’s she doing?”
“Better than I expected,” he said honestly. “She told her parents she’s staying. Told the mayor we’re serious about the warehouse. Started a sketch for a new series.”
Diaz’s gaze followed his. “Good,” she said. “We need more people who stick.”
He heard the unspoken because. Because people who stick are more likely to fight for a place.
“You said you’d call if there was more chatter,” he said.
“I did,” she said. “I’m still sorting through what’s useful and what’s background noise. Your plate-check from earlier goes to a rental, paid in cash by a shell company that has one purpose: buying cars and moving them between states. I’ve seen it tied to two other investigations, neither local.”
“So not a tourist,” he said.
“Probably not,” she agreed. “But I can’t prove intent yet. He didn’t loiter long, he didn’t approach you, he didn’t do anything except look too interested, and then drove away. Suspicious, yes; actionable, no.”
“Do we need to be doing anything different tonight?” he asked.
“Tonight you eat, you smile for the cameras, you go back to your room and lock the deadbolt,” Diaz said.
“Tomorrow, you keep an eye out. I’ve already asked patrol to do a few extra passes near your hotel and the Bay Street block.
We’re putting a marked car in sight as often as we can; deterrence is worth something. ”
“Thanks,” he said.
She gave him a long look. “I’m telling you this because I know you get it,” she said quietly. “Not so you can run your own op. You see something off, you call it in. You do not follow anyone into dark corners.”
The words hit memories he didn't dwell on; sand under his boots, radio crackle, a door that opened on something none of them had wanted to see.
“I hear you,” he said. “I won’t go cowboy.”
“Good,” she said. “I don’t feel like writing that report.”
Across the tent, someone called Diaz’s name. She lifted two fingers in acknowledgment.
“Your guy Colby,” she said, nodding toward the cooler. “He asked me earlier if there’s a way he can see any public bulletins about illegal parts circulating. I told him no; then I told him where to look anyway. He’s got a brain for patterns.”
“Yeah,” Hank said. “He does.”
“You keep him pointed at the legitimate side of that line,” Diaz said. “People who can see systems are valuable; they’re also tempting targets for the wrong kind of work.”
“I will,” Hank said.
She clapped his shoulder once, surprisingly warm. “Enjoy your night, James.”
He watched her head for the food line, then took a breath and went to find his own center of gravity.
Bree looked up as he approached. Her face lit; that still felt like a miracle.
“There you are,” she said. “I was telling Carmen about your Marine brain and how you tried to turn the studio into Fort Knox.”
“I did not,” he said. “Jason and I merely suggested that glass that shatters if you breathe on it is not optimal.”
Carmen smiled. “I like him,” she said to Bree. “He sounds like my insurance agent.”
Hank laughed. “Not the look I’m going for, but I’ll take competent over cool.”
Carmen shifted her weight, her Dragon-branded jacket suddenly looking out of place in a tent full of mixed fans and teams. She caught his eye, something like an apology crossing her face.
“Can we grab a few minutes later?” she asked. “You and Bree both. Somewhere quieter.”
“Sure,” he said. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” she said quickly. “Just… time for some overdue conversations.”
He filed the phrasing away. Overdue conversations rarely meant anything simple.
“Come find us,” Bree said. “We’re hard to miss.”
Carmen’s phone buzzed; she glanced at it and groaned. “That’s Mom,” she said. “She's worried about the issues here.”
Bree slipped her hand into Hank’s. “You good?” she asked.
“Diaz gave me a status update,” he said. “Rental car, shell company, nothing she can move on yet. They’re watching, they’re making themselves visible around our places. She reminded me not to chase anyone into alleys.”
Bree’s mouth twitched. “You needed that reminder?”
“Apparently,” he said. “I have a history.”
Her gaze softened. “You’re not on a deployment anymore.”
“I know,” he said. “Sometimes my muscle memory forgets.”
She squeezed his fingers. “I’ll remind you. Awareness, not paranoia.”
“Exactly,” he said.
A staffer from the Cup organization appeared with a camera and a harried expression. “Hank James? Can I steal you for a second? We’re grabbing a few shots for the recap reel.”
“Sure,” he said. He kissed Bree’s temple. “Back in a minute.”
He posed for a handful of photos; the practiced half-smile came easy now. He signed a program for a kid whose hands shook with excitement. His real calculations remained tucked away, as he answered some innocuous questions.
When he made it back to the edge of the tent, Bree and Carmen were gone.
His chest tightened until he spotted them near the paddock exit, stepping into the cooler dark beyond the lights. Carmen caught his eye and lifted a hand; the invitation was clear.
He followed.
The night outside smelled like damp asphalt and salt. The rumble of voices faded as soon as the tent flap fell back into place behind him. Overhead, the sky was a deep navy bruise, streaked with faint clouds.
Carmen stood near the temporary fence, arms folded, Dragon jacket zipped to her throat. Bree leaned against a concrete barrier, her expression curious and open.
“Sorry to drag you away from your adoring public,” Carmen said. “I just… wanted to talk without an audience.”
“Sounds serious,” Hank said.
“It is,” she said.
Bree tilted her head. “What’s going on?”
Carmen drew in a breath. “I quit,” she said. “The Dragons. I told Heidi I’m done after this weekend.”
Bree’s brows climbed. “Wow. That’s… big.”
“Yeah.” Carmen gave a short, humorless laugh. “I'm only along to help Heidi, but as the evidence stacks up against the Red Dragons, I want no part of any of that. I love my sister, but if they're cheating, and it looks as though they are, I don't need that reflecting on me.”
Hank nodded slowly. "Are you sure they're cheating?"
“I heard talk in the trailer afterward about ‘finding a source that is a little more discreet next time’.” Her jaw tightened.
“Because when I told them if they ever pulled that kind of stunt again I’d turn them in myself, one of the guys laughed and told me I’d never do it.
Like I’m some kind of decoration they can ignore. ”
Anger sparked low in Hank’s gut. “You told Diaz any of that?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said. “I went by the station after the driver’s meeting this afternoon. Gave her my notes, names, dates, everything I had. She asked if I’d be willing to testify if it comes to that; I told her yes.”
“That’s brave,” Bree said, her voice soft.
Carmen shrugged one shoulder. “Feels more like overdue,” she said.
“I don't really care much for the personality of the team.
It's exciting to be part of the race and all the prep that goes into it.
I got caught up in that. I let the excitement for racing take over, and I've questioned myself over and over on my attention to detail.
Maybe I would have seen something myself if I'd paid attention.
But it never occurred to me that they'd cheat. I thought they were just obnoxious and cocky.”
Silence sat for a beat, heavy with things all three of them knew in different ways.
“Marcus will land on his feet,” Carmen went on. “He’s good at spinning. He’ll pitch it like they cut me loose for not being a team player; I don’t really care. I’ve got enough contacts to pick up freelance PR work somewhere else.”
“Where are you thinking?” Hank asked.
She hesitated, then looked at Bree. “I’ve been talking to the Cup operations folks,” she said.
“Off the record. They need someone to coordinate community engagement stuff in the smaller markets. Charity events, school visits, all the things that keep locals from hating the noise and the traffic. Copper Moon’s on that list.”
Bree’s eyes widened. “You’d be based here?”
“Probably in a weird hybrid way,” Carmen said.
“Some travel, some home base. I haven’t said yes yet; I wanted to be sure I was really not going back to the Dragons before I jumped.
But after this weekend…” She shook her head.
“I can’t be the person smiling in the background while they cheat.
And it could only be a matter of time before they actually hurt someone. ”
“You’re not,” Hank said quietly. “You stopped being that the second you walked into Diaz’s office.”
“Yeah, well.” Carmen looked away, blinking fast. “Doesn’t erase the years I stayed because it was convenient.”
“That’s not all you did,” Bree said. “You supported the riders who weren’t assholes. You kept Heidi out of the worst of it. You watched for things that didn't feel right, and you spoke up. That counts.”
Carmen gave a small, crooked smile. “You’re too generous,” she said.
“Maybe,” Bree said. “Or maybe I know what it feels like to stay somewhere because the alternative is a big, terrifying unknown.”
Carmen closed her eyes briefly. “Yeah,” she said. “I guess you do.”
“This is a clean break,” Hank said. “That matters.”
“It also means some people who already don’t like you are going to like you even less,” Bree said gently. “Are you safe?”
Carmen’s mouth twisted. “I’m not stupid,” she said.
“I’ll be careful. Diaz made me promise I’d call if anyone from the Dragons started getting too friendly outside official events.
Most of them will just be pissed in a loud, macho way for a while and then move on to the next thing.
The ones who worry me are the guys who were benefiting from the shady deals you exposed. ”
“Einstein’s supplier,” Hank said.
“And his friends,” Carmen said. “I heard one of them on the phone this afternoon, hissing about ‘making examples’.”
Cold went down his spine. “You heard a name?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No. Just a voice. Brooklyn accent, smoker’s rasp. Diaz said that matches some of what she’s hearing from the state. I’m not useful beyond that.”
“You’re more useful than half the people who think they are,” Hank said.
Carmen huffed out a breath. “Point is, I’m out. I wanted you to hear it from me, not through paddock gossip. You put your neck on the line to call out the nitrous; I’m putting mine on the line to back that call.”
“Thank you,” he said simply.
She nodded, then turned to Bree. “And I wanted to say… I’m sorry.”
Bree blinked. “For what?”
“For bringing you into the mix in the first place,” Carmen said.
Bree’s expression flickered; hurt, then understanding. “You were in a complicated spot,” she said. “Doesn’t mean you get a lifetime pass, but it does mean I get it.”
“Can we call it even if I buy you coffee next time I’m in town?” Carmen asked. “Assuming I’m allowed in your new fancy studio without an appointment.”
Bree smiled, the ache in it obvious. “You’re always allowed,” she said. “We’ll paint over the Dragon logo on your jacket if it makes you feel better.”
Carmen laughed, startled and real. “Deal.”
People began spilling out of the tent, the temperature shifting as bodies moved through the night.
Carmen hesitated, then stepped forward and hugged Bree, quick and fierce. When she pulled back, her eyes were bright.
“Take care of her,” she said to Hank.
“Planning on it,” he said.
“And let her take care of you, Marine,” Carmen added. “You’ve got that ‘I can handle everything’ look. It’s bullshit.”
He smiled. “Noted.”
She nodded once, squared her shoulders, and walked back toward the tent; the Dragon logo on her back caught the light, then disappeared into the crowd.
Bree watched her go, her hand finding Hank’s.
“That felt like a goodbye,” she said softly.
“It was,” he said. “But not the permanent kind.”
“You think she’ll take the Cup job?” Bree asked.
“I think she already has,” he said. “She just hasn’t said the words yet.”
Bree exhaled. “I’m glad she’s stepping away,” she said. “Even if it hurts.”
“Step one,” he said. “People who were quiet before are starting to talk. That matters.”
“Are you going to be able to sleep tonight?” she asked.
He thought of the shell company rental and the Brooklyn rasp Carmen had described.
“Eventually,” he said. “After I watch the hallway for an hour and rearrange the chair under the door handle twice.”
She bumped his shoulder with hers. “Good thing you’ve got a girlfriend who’s good with hard things,” she said. “Including talking you down when your Marine brain plans ambush drills in the stairwell.”
He pulled her in, pressing his lips to her hairline. “Yeah,” he said. “That is a good thing.”
Behind them, fireworks popped over the harbor, painting the sky in brief, bright flashes. The crowd roared in appreciation.
Hank watched the reflection in Bree’s eyes; for the first time in a long time, the explosions did not make his muscles tense. They were just light and sound and a town celebrating being alive.
Tomorrow, they would go back to numbers and security plans and shell companies.
Tonight, he wrapped an arm around the woman who had somehow become home and let himself just stand in the warm dark, the threat still out there but held at bay for a few precious hours.