Burning Heart

by Latebloomnriter

Some missing scenes and follow up to "Faster Heart."

Burning Heart

This is my first longer Hardcastle and McCormick story, with numerous missing scenes and follow up to "Faster Heart."

The story can best be appreciated if you are very familiar with the great dialogue from "Casablanca," writing credited to Julius J. Epstein, Philip G. Epstein, and Howard Koch. Dialogue from "Faster Heart" is by Patrick Hasburgh.

Note: To the best of my knowledge and belief, this story is fair use of copyrighted material, as there is no commercial use and no loss of potential market or value of the original material will occur. I have no personal knowledge of real-life officials associated with Orange County Raceway during the setting of this story. Any resemblance to actual persons is purely coincidental.

Rated T for non-graphic sexual content and language

The story opens after Hardcastle, McCormick, and Kiki met with Hal Jenkins to ask why the man who tried to kill Kiki in the hospital drove a car registered to Jenkins' company.

"Jake? We have a problem. A Judge Hardcastle, a guy named McCormick, and Kiki Cutter were just here asking about the car you took and why someone would want to kill Cutter. You already talked with Sammy about finishing the job? Good. Yeah, Sammy's right. As soon as possible-and not with another one of my cars."

HHHHHHHHHHHHH

Kki heard the shot as she hung up the phone and scrambled to each window to see what was happening. She finally saw Hardcastle by the gate. Where was Mark? She grabbed a poker from the fireplace and ran outside.

Mark saw her coming and maneuvered to block her view of the body. "Easy. We're all right." He caught her arms to steady her as she stared at their attacker on the ground.

"Is he-"

"He's dead. This was the guy who came to your hospital room with the syringe full of cyanide."

Hardcastle interrupted. "Did you get through to the police?"

"Ye-yes, they're on the way." She looked away from the body and Mark put his arm around her. She was wearing the shortest nightgown Hardcastle had ever seen. He cleared his throat. "You better put something on. It will be a long time with the interviews."

The two men watched her leave. Mark looked back at Hardcastle. "What happens now?"

"Now it comes to plain detective work and following leads. If we're lucky, that car at the end of the drive isn't a rental, or stolen, so it can be traced directly to Thomas. Even if he used a false name, there should still be an address and registration. If we have an address we can check the phone calls made from his place. We try to get a warrant for Jenkins, and see if he's called Jake. He might have some cash on him too. He would have gotten a down payment for the job in the hospital, then probably another payment for tonight. They can also check his fingerprints against the partial on the syringe."

"That's two attempts at murder-three if he sawed the tie rod."

"You're getting closer. Three attempts, another one when Thomas shot at you in the parking lot, maybe as many as five." At Mark's look of puzzlement, Hardcastle quietly but grimly pointed out, "he was paid to take you out tonight too, sport."

"Sammy," hissed Mark.

"Now hold up, we don't know that yet. It might have been Jenkins. Do you actually think it's a coincidence that a killer comes here so soon after we talked to Jenkins? Anyway, if we can find some extra cash, there might be fingerprints on that too, which could be matched to O'Connell or Jenkins. There may be someone at O'Connell Racing who recognizes Thomas too. We'll need more on Sammy, and we need to find out if there's a link between Sammy and Jenkins."

The sirens and cars were approaching. It would be a long time to wrap up the night's events, stretching into the morning light. Forensic teams began photographing the body and tracing its outline, while others searched the gate house for the shots fired. Hardcastle, Mark, and Kiki repeated their stories several times, from the time Hardcastle noticed the intruder to Hardcastle's shot to defend Mark. Kiki's head began to throb from the combined effects of her injury, exhaustion, and stress, and Hardcastle motioned Mark over after the questioning ended. "Take her to the house and get a room ready, and one for you, too. This is a crime scene. You won't be back in there for a while yet. Come back after she's settled. I haven't finished talking to you."

Mark kept a firm arm around Kiki to take her to the main house. He quickly made up the room used by Aunt May and Aunt Zora, bright and cheery, in contrast with the recent near-fatal moment. Kiki managed a drowsy smile only briefly before falling asleep.

"Timing," muttered Mark. He pulled up a chair beside the bed to rest for a moment, but soon drifted off himself.

He was awakened by a hand gently jostling his shoulder. Kiki was out like a log. Hardcastle beckoned Mark to come with him.

How does he do it? He's got over thirty years on me, he's been up all night, and he looks he could go on for a few more hours while I'm ready to drop. He's Superdonkey, with powers and abilities far beyond those of mortal men.

The police were finally preparing to leave. Evidence tape still blocked off the window and door of the gate house.

"You okay?"

Mark blinked and roused himself enough out of his drowsiness to notice Hardcastle watching him closely. "Yeah, close call, though."

"Anything else? I mean, you saw me shoot someone. I was wonderin', after what happened with Randall not so long ago-" he paused, and waited for Mark's reaction.

"I wish I didn't have to think about that now." He'd managed to keep the demons associated with those memories in hibernation, but they were rousing now at the Judge's mention. "How did you do it? You never hesitated, like it was easy, and you're not sorry at all about it. How can it be easy?"

"I'd never say it was easy, like you mean. It was automatic. Someone points a gun at you, or ever threatens you, yeah I won't ever have to think. I can't imagine ever being sorry about doing what I have to, to save your life." He paused again. "I think you understand that, with the risks you take for people you care about, like what you've done for Kiki. And I know what you've done for me."

"I would always do that sort of thing again, Judge." The realization sent the stirring demon back into dormancy, and Mark thought it would never fully awaken again.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

The Judge had put the pieces together. The burnt buildings and associated insurance payouts were the motive which had to be kept hidden and led to the murder attempts on Kiki. Hardcastle started to move forward to call the police to pick up O'Connell, but Mark stopped him.

"I thought you wanted to get this guy."

"I do. But before he goes to jail, I want a chance to beat him, Judge. I want it. I want to give him something to think about while he's inside."

"Because he stole your girl?"

"No. Because he's the kind of guy who needs to know what it's like to lose, and lose bad."

Sammy would pay. He would pay for not only the attempts at murder, but for every word or action he used to make Mark feel like a loser. It wouldn't be just Sammy on the start line, but everyone who ever put Mark down, hurt his chances of success, everyone who had won over him outside of fair competition. The race would have a very crowded field.

Mark started back toward the truck, but Hardcastle stopped him with a hand to the chest. "Listen, I'll back you on this, but you better have a clear head if you're going alongside Sammy at two hundred miles an hour-;"

"-closer to 270-"

"-and expect it to end well. Don't be a hothead about this revenge." Hardcastle saw McCormick set his features into the focused, determined expression he wore when he vowed to retrieve his stolen car and cash after the Arizona Modifieds.

"This dish will be served cold, Judge."

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

The job of arranging the race fell to Kiki. She disregarded the cautionary advice of her attorneys about repercussions from open shaming on top of a very public arrest. She used her influence to negotiate with track management to sell the idea of the unofficial race between Mark and Sammy. It would be a grudge match, as she reminded officials that she had broken up with Mark to marry Sammy. "I can promise the race will generate a lot of publicity for the track. Let's just say that the track will be serving justice."

The evidence tape had been removed. They were back in the gate house after dinner. They were leaning toward each other when Kiki spoke.

"You have a race tomorrow." Her breath was warm, a gentle breeze against his mouth.

"Hm? Uh." Mark's monosyllables ran from a moment of distracted confusion to dismay.

"You're going to need your rest."

She was right. "Timing," Mark muttered in disgust. He sighed.

"No couch either. You should sleep in a real bed."

"All right. You stay here, and I'll go to the guest room in the main house. Hardcase can read me a bedtime story."

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

He had done it. He had defeated Sammy and everyone else who would forever imprison him in the loser's cell. Kiki and her team were all smiles when he was driven back to the start line. Then the police appeared from their discrete positions.

Mark placed a reassuring hand on Kiki's shoulder as they watched Sammy being led away in handcuffs. He wasn't just staring daggers at them. His glare was an executioner's axe. "And to think that guy had the life I always wanted," murmured Mark. He kneaded Kiki's shoulder. "Ready?"

"I think so."

The press clustered around Sammy, calling out questions and taking photos, then advanced toward Mark and Kiki. The reporters' calls were like hyenas, swarming to gnaw and dismember the carcass of a reputation. Steve Taggert was the first to reach to reach them and call out a coherent question.

"Kiki, what's this about? Are you surprised? Mark, the other day you were hinting that Sammy might want-"

Kiki was prepared. "The police will be making a statement about charges." She was going to continue with careful remarks, but Mark had no such inclinations.

"Sammy O'Connell is being taken into custody for questioning and charges regarding the attempts on Miss Cutter's life, my life, conspiracy to commit arson and insurance fraud. It was not a surprise."

Kiki interjected with a more scripted response. "We received word that arrests were imminent. As I said, the police will be releasing a statement with more details and allegations from their investigation."

"So, was this grudge match a setup? What is the relationship between you two?"

After exchanging a look with Kiki, Mark spoke again and was more cautious. "As I alluded to before, there have been attempts on Kiki's life, as well as my own. We believe the allegations of Sammy's involvement, which will be released soon, are true. You bet I wanted to stick it to Sammy for what he did to both of us. Kiki and I had not seen each other for years before her accident. I'm very thankful she's okay."

Kiki now spoke very firmly. "While Mark and I ended our relationship when I married Sammy, I owe my life to him. He was the one waiting in the hospital for me to recover, and he was a critical part of this investigation."

Hardcastle interrupted them. "That's all we have to say right now. The police will be making the next statements." They managed to shoulder their way out of the crowd and photographers, who began to disperse on their own. Speed wasn't limited to cars. There were news deadlines to make.

They had time to see that the rig would be tended to, and prepared for return to the Preston team. Kiki spoke briefly with track officials and left them a short written statement to pass on if they had more media inquiries, and promised to be available later. Finally they jammed themselves into Hardcastle's pickup for their first private conversation since the race.

"What happens next?"

"Now it's a scramble," said Hardcastle. He was in serious lawyer mode, dealing with facts and court and police procedures. "It's Sunday. Sammy can be held until Tuesday for questioning, after which he will be charged and arraigned, or released. He'll probably make bail if he's charged-"

"Whadda ya mean, if he's charged?!"

"Slow down, hotshot. There's a lot to be discovered yet. We have to hope the police have time under their warrant to trace any calls from Sammy to and from Thomas and Jenkins, check bank records for payoffs, and match any fingerprints from Thomas's cash to Sammy. Maybe someone saw Thomas at O'Connell Racing in the industrial park or the headquarters. His lawyer will tell him not to talk, but maybe the cops and D.A. can convince him and Jenkins that the other is ratting him out and will testify for a plea deal. Multiple counts of attempted murder should trump the arson and insurance fraud." He paused and turned to Kiki. "Do you have any of your things left at Sammy's? If you do, now would be the time to get them if they're important. It will also help if you turned over your financial information, accounts or phone numbers that can be used to trace any connections between Sammy, Jenkins, and Thomas."

"There are a few things there. I'm mostly at our condo in town. I'll see about turning over the records."

"Secure building? At any rate, you should change the locks."

They drove to the house Kiki used to share with Sammy. A police cruiser was already out in front. Mark turned curiously to Hardcastle. "They're here already?"

"Yeah, I wanted them here for the evidence." Hardcastle looked at Kiki. "Go inside with them and get your things. The cops will document and examine everything you take, so Sammy's team can't claim later that any relevant evidence was tampered with." He caught Mark's arm as he tried to follow Kiki. "Hold up, sport. I need to talk to you."

Mark got back in the truck. "So?" he demanded impatiently. "What's so important right now?"

Hardcastle patted the wheel for a moment before he turned to Mark. "This is as good a place as any, and it fits in with what I have to tell you. We talked about the number of attempted murders. That's not the same as the number of charges Sammy could face. I'm tellin' you now, there won't be more than three attempted murder charges against Sammy, Jenkins, or anybody: the attempt in the hospital against Kiki; and the shootings at you and Kiki the other night."

"What about her car? Judge, I found that tie rod, it was nearly sawn in half! If we found Sammy's prints on it-"

"What's the big deal about a guy checking his wife's car? Besides, that's not the real problem. See, there's a thing called chain of custody about evidence. No one can confirm that you got that tie rodjamacallit from Kiki's car and found it had been sabotaged before the crash. All the police and O'Connell's or Jenkins' lawyers will have is something that you could have gotten from anywhere, and could have damaged yourself any time before you turned it over to the cops. Your prints are all over it too, kiddo. It would never be admissible."

Mark erupted into a stream of curses. "Are you telling me that it was all for nothing? I could have gone back inside for nothing?"

"Well, it depends on what you value. The evidence won't make it to court, but it proved enough to us and Kiki to keep digging, and help keep her alive. She may not have made it if she hadn't been at the house."

"Your system stinks. I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

"Well," Hardcastle sighed. "It's all we have. Sometimes, though, it needs to be bent and twisted to get it back to the right shape.

They were back at the gate house again after collecting Kiki's things. It was still early in the evening, and they had adjourned after speaking with Hardcastle.

"Timing," declared Mark contentedly. "No race tomorrow, and everyone is locked up." He studied Kiki quietly. "If you still want to."

"No more waiting." She fingered his collar, found the chain around his neck. She pulled it out, entwined her finger around it until she pulled Mark's face to hers.

It had been a long time, but their bodies remembered and instinctively molded themselves to each other. Fingers unfastened button and lowered zippers, and hands slid under loosened clothing to caress skin. The bodies remembered, and remembered through the night.

"Well," Kiki murmured drowsily. "You didn't lie. You are three times the lover Sammy is."

"Mm. I might have been wrong about that. I mean, only three times the lover? It's more like-ow! You'll pay for that, honey."

The next morning….

Hardcastle was more than miffed. He was actually in a snit at being completely hoodwinked by McCormick into thinking Kiki had left early the night before. The kid had shown none of that giddy grinning after bedding one of his bimbos for the first time. Hardcastle could see through his annoyance that Mark and Kiki had a different sort of interaction. They didn't seem like a couple who were new to each other, but casually kissed and greeted each other, automatically sliding arms around each other like long-established lovers who were very much at ease with each other. Yes, that was the reason he had been fooled-it wasn't as if McCormick would ever put one over him again. Kiki's voice interrupted Hardcastle's thoughts.

"Eh? What was that?"

"Would you like me to make you some breakfast, Judge? I can get you some toast, coffee, or some eggs-"

"Yeah, some eggs would be nice." He saw McCormick grin, and the Judge wondered if he had guessed right that she was a lousy cook.

"How would you like me to cook them?"

"Fully clothed."

In the end, Hardcastle settled for decent enough eggs and toast which Kiki had prepared wearing McCormick's robe. McCormick and Kiki adjourned to get dressed, an apparently time-consuming endeavor because it was a while before they returned, looking freshly scrubbed and even more relaxed than earlier that morning. In the meantime, Hardcastle had time to read the morning paper, and his sour mood had returned.

"Well, you're back to read the news of the day, are you? Oh look, here's a nice one, one picture worth a thousand words, right? I call it, 'the kiss that shook the racing world.'" He held up the front page of the sports section. There was a photo from the race. In the foreground, Mark and Kiki were sharing a kiss. In the background, Sammy was looking over and staring daggers at them. Mindful of potential lawsuits, the text of the article toned down most of Mark's comments, and relied on the statement released from police.

"Uh," grimaced Kiki. "Well, that wasn't great timing."

Mark was nonchalant. "Who'd have thought that Steve Taggert was that quick with a camera crew." He grinned at Kiki. "It was worth it, anyway, right?"

She smiled back. "No regrets, but, ah, not the best for public relations."

"What do you mean?"

"What she means, wise guy," interrupted Hardcastle, "is that there's such a thing as the court of public opinion, which tends to issue a ruling before the facts are all in, and the actual court makes a decision. Any halfway decent judge will stick to admissible facts, but until then it's messy. People can be swayed, whether they admit to it or not."

"Why should they be?"

"Why do you think, you idiot! You're playing smash face with a married woman right in front of her husband! He looks like the injured party, and he'll probably play that angle that his arrest was some sort of setup, and he's a great guy dealing with a cheating wife. Nothing personal, Kiki."

"So much for your blind justice, Judge. He tried to have her killed three times, and now we have to worry about people thinking he's been wronged!"

"Listen, kiddo, justice can be blind, but plenty of people peek out from under the blindfold. We need to try to get a handle on this news. If we want Lady Justice to be impartial, we need to present a clear picture before she puts that blindfold on."

"I think," said Kiki, "I need to do some damage control."

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

Early Tuesday, Hardcastle returned with some updates from the police and district attorney's office. "Okay, you two," he said. "I've got some more information about the investigation. You need to pay attention, kiddo, because a lot of this concerns you in particular."

"Why me in particular?"

"Because you're the key witness to some of this, and with your record, it could get tricky." He held up his hand to stem any angry rants until he was finished. "As I suspected, there aren't going to be charges over the first attempt at the track. The problem, though, is that you broke into O'Connell Racing, didn't you, Mr. McCormick?" Hardcastle imitated a defense attorney's questioning style.

"I thought you said this wouldn't be used."

"Not as evidence of a crime by O'Connell and company. But as a demonstration of your credibility as a witness, that's something else."

"Those were my facilities too," interjected Kiki. "I can say Mark had my permission to enter."

"That's fine, except that you were unconscious at the time. But, as retroactive approval, it won't hurt." Hardcastle paused and continued. "Now, there's another matter about the second murder attempt. You masqueraded as a doctor, didn't you, Mr. McCormick?"

"It was the only way I could get into see Kiki, and a good thing too, because she would have been killed!"

"Well, you're mostly in luck there. The hospital won't make an issue of it, since their lack of security allowed a killer in to nearly finish off his intended victim, plus he shot up the hospital parking lot. If I were the victim, I'd be mad as hell." He looked expectantly at Kiki. She immediately obliged him with a response.

"Well, I'm horrified at their carelessness, and am certainly considering legal action. But, if they guarantee that no charges will be filed against Mark, I won't file either. In fact, when I see my lawyers later today, I will say exactly that."

"I think, given the circumstances, that the D.A. will agree to grant you full immunity in exchange for your testimony. I've already offered the terms."

"You didn't think you should talk to me about it first?!"

"Kiddo, I can barely keep track of how often I've had to do this. How do you think I've kept your ticket from being pulled, and you out of jail all this time? You've built up so much immunity, you could inoculate the entire city!"

Mark noted the worried look on Kiki's face. "What's the matter? What did your attorney say?"

"Nothing good. Most of my money has been frozen."

"What! How could they do that?"

"Well, we hadn't finished dividing up our joint assets. Since money was being laundered through Sammy's account, and maybe a joint account, everything is frozen pending the investigation." She noted Hardcastle's expression. "You knew this would happen."

"Well," responded Hardcastle, "let's just say I thought it could happen. It's not surprising that the D.A's office made this move to trace the money from Jenkins to O'Connell, and until all your assets are finally and legally separated, you're part of O'Connell." He observed Mark's body language, which was screaming as loud as that fat mouth of his. He had aligned his body with Kiki's, angled defensively in front of her.

"That's a great move by your legal system," snapped Mark. "Kiki was a victim, almost killed three times-how's she supposed to pay her expenses? Kiki, you still have some money of your own, that they won't touch, right?"

She hesitated. "I had some, yes, but-look, I didn't take my attorneys' advice to prepare for the possible freezing of my assets and the scandal, and, well, most of it is gone."

"What happened?" Mark watched her expression. There was an evasiveness there that he wouldn't have noticed years earlier when they first knew each other, but either she was a worse liar now or he was more perceptive, or both, because it was clear that there was something she didn't want to tell him. "What happened?" he repeated quietly. "You used to better at this sort of thing."

Hardcastle caught the undercurrent of the conversation, both spoken and unspoken, and cleared his throat. "Okay, I've got some things to do upstairs. You two sort it out in the meantime."

Hardcastle had nothing against Kiki, but the depth of McCormick's feeling for her and his recent actions worried the Judge. While the kid furiously still blamed O'Connell for the stealing away the girl, the Judge knew that it took both parties and Kiki clearly had decided to end the relationship with McCormick. The Judge suspected that there was more to the breakup than McCormick was saying, but he still didn't blame her, and despite adamant denials to the contrary, was stoking the embers from the old flame rather than dousing the ashes. There was no doubt: the kid still had it bad for her. He wasn't just carrying a torch, he was toting a bonfire. Love was an ugly drug indeed.

They barely noticed him leave, and never took their eyes off each other. Kiki finally looked away from Mark, then returned her gaze to lock eyes with him. "I did have some money of my own in a new separate account. I used most of it to pay for the race with Sammy."

"How? The Judge put up the money for the car-"

"Yes, but you know there's more to racing than just the car. There were extra track expenses, bonus payment to the officials and announcers, fees for emergency response if necessary, and insurance."

Of course she was right. He had neglected all that part of even a special race in his eagerness to make Sammy pay.

"But you still must have some endorsement money coming in, right? You'll be okay with that?" Kiki, like E.J. Corlette was well known to the general public through advertising campaigns and interviews. It was common to see her hawking automotive products or posing with her familiar rose-emblazoned helmet and declaring that no other shampoo left her hair so shiny and full after a long day at the drag races.

"I heard from my lawyers and manager about that, too. Mark, the reason Sammy and I were going to wait until after the season ended to announce the divorce is that our endorsement and sponsorship contracts would be over then. There wouldn't be any ongoing Mr. and Mrs. Top Fuel ads. Sponsors hate scandal that might reflect on their ad campaigns or products. If ads had to be pulled, it would cost companies a fortune. My manager heard from the companies with products I endorse. They're suspending their advertising and payments to me until the dust settles and they see in which direction the wind blows."

"It's not your fault!" Mark was bristling and furious. "You were the victim here!"

"It doesn't matter! It's a scandal that can hurt their business!"

Mark threw himself into a chair and Kiki looked away. Both were still agitated and took a couple of minutes to calm down. Mark was the first to speak.

"What will you do for money?"

Kiki rubbed her eyes. When she spoke, it was in a tone of resignation. "I'll have to use my remaining asset. I'll have to race again."

"No. It isn't even safe to race right away, you had a concussion, and you'll have to get medical clearance. Besides, you were done with that."

"I was." Mark was even more distraught with the notion than she was. It had been her choice and gamble, and she accepted the loss. "I'll manage if I have to. It helps that I can still see the end of it, hopefully not too far off. We all do things because we have to, not because we want to, right?"

"Why did you do all of that for me? I mean, I never would have wanted you to put yourself in a financial bind, much less risk your life doing something after you wanted to quit. You didn't even want to tell me about it. I could have asked the Judge for the money."

"It was important to you." Kiki was still looking directly into his eyes. "I told you I had changed. I was tired of going days at a time, between the interviews and meeting with sponsors and commercials, and Sammy, and never uttering a single sincere word all of that time. It took a lot of expensive therapy for me to sort it out." She managed a smile that was half merged with a grimace. "I suppose that must seem a surprise to you."

There was no cynical or sarcastic edge to Mark's reply, and he spoke gently. "No. I can see where that would wear someone down. Something like that happened to E.J. Corlette."

Kiki sighed. "I just want to be able to look in the mirror and like what I see. It feels like it's been a long time."

"Kiki," Mark was still speaking gently and very thoughtfully. "Being a better person isn't a matter of checking off some box on the good guy do-list. It isn't enough just to do something nice and generous, it's how you feel about it too, and whether you want something in return. I mean, what do you really think, and how do you really feel about this?"

She answered with absolute sincerity. "I didn't have to think about it at all. I don't feel any better, I don't feel any worse. Doing this for you feels as natural as breathing."

When Hardcastle returned, he again noticed the body language. This time it was different. It was Kiki who had aligned her body with Mark, and taking a protective stance in front of him.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHH

"It's all falling into place." Hardcastle was giving the latest update to Kiki and Mark. "Fortunately, Jake Thomas was using his own car, despite a fake name, during the attack here the other night, and the registration had his current address. We've got his phone number and records of bank accounts. Calls were made to him from Jenkins' office long before the attacks on Kiki, about the time of the fires, so there's the link to the arsons. Thomas also got a call from Jenkins right after we left his office. Sammy called him too, just after Kiki's last race, but also immediately after the attack at the hospital. After your little adventure in pizza delivery at O'Connell Racing, security at the industrial park was beefed up there and at O'Connell's downtown offices. It apparently didn't sink into Sammy's head that if he increased security to keep out intruders-that would be you, kiddo-that any other visitors would be observed too. There's a video of Thomas entering the office building and some people recognized him heading for Sammy's office. There was another withdrawal from one of Sammy's accounts later that day and some prints were lifted from some cash Thomas had on him, and at his place." There was another pause. "Prints match Sammy's."

Kiki was silent, absorbing the finality of it.

"So," said Mark, "that links him to the attempts at the gate house."

"It's a solid case. The attack in the hospital, though, is up for grabs. The cops are trying to pit O'Connell against Jenkins to assign blame for that, but both could take a hit for it. What it looks like is this: Sammy sawed the tie rod, but Kiki survived the crash. Sammy and Jenkins had to be sure she died, so Jenkins put Sammy in touch with Thomas to finish the job. He failed at the hospital, so Sammy called him in again to the office, where Thomas probably re-negotiated to take out both of you. If the defense attorneys are smart, they will be trying to cut plea deals."

"What will they get?"

"Well, in exchange for dropping or downgrading some charges, they could still do double digit time. Maybe less with chance of parole." He paused for a moment. "This isn't the end of it."

"What else is there? Is Sammy up for a prize next?!"

"Sammy is out on bail."

MMMMMMMMMM

Sammy's body was not only part of him free of restraint. His words were also. They were an angry jumble of outraged innocence, claims of misunderstanding with Kiki, and accusations of a frame concocted by Mark as Kiki's lover. The snarling continued until an attorney or manager slapped on a muzzle and confined Sammy to a figurative crate.

"This could get nastier," Kiki said to Mark when they were alone. "For me, anyway. As more people dig into what happened between us, and how I came to marry Sammy in the first place, it's pretty ugly."

Mark frowned. "Why would they know that?"

"Well, when they interview people who know what I did to you-" she paused as Mark shook his head.

"No one knows. I never told anybody about you claiming to be pregnant. All anyone knows is that you left me for him."

"Why? Why did you keep it a secret? I would have deserved the payback."

Mark shook his head again. "I didn't do it for you. I just didn't want anyone to know what a fool I'd been."

"Not a fool," Kiki answered quietly. "Just a very good man, who had no reason to doubt the girl he loved. In the end, it was more of a break for me than I deserved back then."

"I'm the only one entitled to judge you for it. And I've forgiven you. Look, we were both very young, and have done things we regret. It's time to move on."

They smiled at each other. Kiki was humbled at the magnitude of Mark's generosity. She knew that there would never be another man who had his strength and capacity for forgiveness, much less the willingness to risk life and freedom for her. She hoped she would be worthy of him.

"Yeah, there are people who will believe it, regardless of evidence," advised Hardcastle when he rejoined them. "Officially, no one will take those words seriously. You're in my custody, kiddo, and I've kept close tabs on your whereabouts and who you associate with. You didn't have that earlier contact with Kiki, and Sammy can't document any instances to the contrary."

Kiki put her own PR campaign into motion. The damage control could not be one-size-fits-all. A different strategy would be needed for men and women. She repeated her statements regarding her relationship with Mark, and his role in saving her life through judicious interviews and statements. Women were the trickier audience. Kiki had few women friends. She had grown up as an awkward mix of girly girl tastes combined with a passion for the more typical boys' obsession for cars. She had always gotten along better in general with men, though male egos could drive her crazy. Her ability to mix well with boys, and later men, combined with her looks often made her the topic of jealousy and malicious whispers. Despite the success of drag racing legend Shirley Muldowney, few were willing to give Kiki the chance befitting her talent. She was hungry enough to use her assets and latch on to Sammy O'Connell, at Mark's expense, to fast track the opportunity for success.

Success in racing did earn her a number of fans, including women and car-crazy girls who appreciated a woman making it big in a male-dominated sport. She had detractors too, women who couldn't or wouldn't use sex appeal to get ahead. She had to win as many of all types of women over as she could.

She would not have to lie to put forth an appealing story. She knew that many women, no matter how capable and self-reliant themselves, loved a good romantic story and could turn to mush over the image of a formidable man adoring and wanting to protect even a strong woman. The vision of Mark forgiving all, waiting by her bedside, and foiling murder attempts, even after she dunped him, might be irresistible.

Men would be easier. There were far more men at lower rungs of the pyramid pecking order than there were at the apex, where Sammy had sat. These men had seen the desirable girls and women flocking to success, and endured put downs from the big men at the top. Most men would like nothing better than to take down the big dog, stick it to him as Mark had said, and take back the girl. This just needed to be highlighted.

She played the game about sponsors. In her statements she certainly understood their decision to pull the ads and would never have wanted any scandal to taint the sponsors' fine products. The parting was by mutual agreement, she declared. Mark reflected that this was a side of success he would never have been so effective at managing. His thankless sponsors would have faced a tongue sharper than a serpent's tooth. No wonder E.J. and Kiki had burned out.

Kiki finished executing her strategy with a sense of irony. She had discovered that behaving with integrity wasn't so hard after all. In fact, it felt pretty damn good.

In the race for public opinion, the team of Hardcastle, McCormick, and Cutter took the checkered flag.

HHHHHHHHHHHH

"Now isn't the time to stay in hiding," Kiki argued. "Take me to the track. If I'm to continue racing, I need to be seen, and touch base with my crew."

"Can you trust them? They're part of Team O'Connell, too."

"I had my people, and Sammy had his. I think it will be okay. Pick me up in a couple of hours."

Mark dropped Kiki off at her home track. She took care to present a confident image in her walk and gestures, giving friendly nods to people she knew. The reaction was mixed. There were genuine wishes of good will-Sammy was not personally popular, though a good draw-but also some frowns of disapproval, and some blatant smirks and leers. She maintained her composed demeanor, but on the inside she was uneasy. The atmosphere reminded her of her early days on the track, where as a young woman alone around many rough men she was in a vulnerable position. She had been harassed frequently when she was single, sometimes to the point where she feared for her safety. She had not been with Mark, and later Sammy, with a view solely toward advancement. Their presence was a form of protection, and kept her from constantly looking over her shoulder.

She met her crew, and indicated her interest in continuing with them as part of a team. She had trusted most of them, and assessed that their reliability was still authentic. They agreed to meet again the next day.

She heard the footsteps behind her as she headed back to the gate to meet Mark. The steps came closer and when she turned the man was only a foot or so away. She couldn't resist the sharp movement to keep him out of her personal space.

"Hey Cutter, how about some of what you're giving McCormick?"

"What I'll give you is a permanent ban from the track. Get away from me."

He retreated after some cursing, and after he was gone Kiki allowed herself the delayed reaction of shaking that didn't diminish until she was in Mark's arms.

He noticed immediately that she was distraught and kept hold of her. "What's wrong?"

"Some bad moments. " She took a breath. "You don't know what it's like, having to watch your back all the time, having to worry that someone might-." She broke off, seeing Mark's face harden, and thought of what he faced in prison. "Oh. I guess you do know."

Mark's tone as he answered matched his grim expression. "Yeah, I know. You don't come back here unless the Judge or I go with you."

"I couldn't ask the Judge to do that for me, Mark. He barely knows me."

"He knows me. He would do it if I asked."

She understood that the financial backing to rent the dragster was a minor point in the relationship between the two men. "He would do just about anything for you, wouldn't he?"

"Yeah, he would. That's why I almost never ask."

They headed back to car and stopped. Sammy was coming toward them.

He was ready for an audience. "Kiki, I don't know what's going on, but this is all a mistake. We need to talk, without the lawyers, and any garbage hanging around."

Kiki could feel Mark's tension quivering, but outwardly he appeared calm. "Go to the car, Kiki." She hesitated. "Go on. I'll be there in a minute." He guided her around Sammy in a circle, so Mark was always between them. Neither man spoke until she was out of earshot. Several other people noticed the gathering, and began to congregate to see the show.

"You're through, Sammy. You'll flame out in prison like you almost did when I shot you down on the track."

"That was a fluke, McCormick! You're still a loser, and I'll prove it next time out. I want a rematch. It will be over in seconds."

"Kind of like your lovemaking, huh Sammy?"

Sammy started for him, but some of his crew members accompanying him jumped between the two men to keep them apart. Kiki was already half out of the car again as Mark stepped around Sammy and came toward her.

"What do you use, carrier pigeons? How could you possibly know what happened already" demanded Mark irritably. The Judge had immediately cornered Mark and Kiki when they returned.

"Kiddo, you should understand by now, I know almost everything. This is going to stop. You're an important witness, and Sammy has shown he's capable of trying to get someone out of the way. I'm filing a restraining order against Sammy to keep him away from you, and from this house. He sees you, he has to keep 100 feet away. He violates the order, bail is yanked and he goes inside until the trial."The Judge turned to Kiki. "I suggest you see your attorney about the same."

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

Mark and Kiki returned to the track the next day. Mark changed his demeanor and body language as they walked around the track. Swagger and posturing were nothing new to racers, as they tried to psych each other out for a competitive advantage. As tough as some of the racers and track personnel were, none had faced the same stakes as Mark had in San Quentin. There he had been solidly in the middle of the pecking order, teetering on a tight rope to balance between deference, ingratiation, and intimidation, where a slip meant the difference between life and death, sexual or other brutal assault. He sent a pure San Quentin stare at anyone who directed a leering or unfriendly glance toward Kiki. He managed an even more menacing effect when he kept his sunglasses on and just turned his masked eyes in the direction of anyone who aimed the wrong look or remark at them. He intended to drive anyone with a hostile intent into retreat from the clear message: Don't fuck with me or mine. No one tried.

Hardcastle put his resources into play. He knew plenty of people, who knew other people, and wove a tangled web of connected sponsors and powerful interests so tight that no dangerous deception had a chance of penetrating. Kiki would be left alone.

"Both of them took plea deals," Hardcastle announced with satisfaction.

"I'm a bit surprised," said Mark. "Sammy's not the kind of guy who would believe something like a conviction and life sentence could be handed down to him."

"Well, he must have a realistic lawyer. Since Jenkins was talking, there wasn't much O'Connell could do but follow suit. Besides the other charges we've discussed, the IRS was starting to look at both men about the undeclared income. Hey, it worked on Capone! Jenkins is going down for the arson, insurance fraud, and conspiracy, but is fingering Sammy for the attempted murders. Sammy goes down for one count of attempted murder-that was the gatehouse attempt-and will testify against Jenkins on his charges. Double digit time for both."

"What about parole?" demanded Mark.

"Ah. Well, potentially, it could be less than double digits with time off for good behavior."

"In other words," Mark was rapidly undergoing a temperature shift as his cool manner heated up to hot fury and he accelerated from zero to 100 anger miles per hour in less than a second. "Bottom line, for multiple attempts at murder and arson, they are doing the same amount of time that I would have gotten this last time around for stealing a car!"

"Afraid so, kiddo. Think about it, though. You found a way to survive in prison. I know you worked a lot of angles, and came out mostly intact. How do you think Sammy will fare inside?"

As often happened, the Judge's words dowsed some of Mark's fire. He had managed to survive, but he had picked up some scars that, while now somewhat faded, would never disappear. The angles he used were a mix of humor, making book, and intimidation, tailored to his audience. It had taken considerable brains and finesse. He thought of Sammy, whose arrogance, general attitude, and lack of streetwise smarts were certain to antagonize the wrong cons. He would never show good behavior and probably piss off the guards as well as the inmates. Regardless of the length of time served, Sammy would come through this much worse than Mark. He nodded slightly, signaling his understanding to Hardcastle.

The ironies continued to pile up on Kiki. She had married Sammy for the career advancement. They did have some good times and she was certain he had loved her. She understood now that he had used her as she had used him. She had been another trophy in the case-the beautiful drag race champion, and she was his. She had eventually learned to want something more for herself and to be a better person. As she changed, her thoughts had drifted back toward Mark and what she had given up when she left him. She had appreciated him as a source of protection at the track, but he had always meant more to her than that. She had cared a great deal for him, but in those days had loved the idea of racing success more. He had developed into something even more special, despite living through times hard enough to break many men. They had both grown up, and learned. Sammy had never learned. He would have plenty of time to think about it all.

HHHHHHHHHHH

The whirlwind of excitement and tension was finally dying down as Sammy and Jenkins were both headed for prison. There were still financial matters to sort through, and a divorce to be finalized. Thoughts turned to the future.

"I brought you something," said Kiki. Shoe sounded hesitant, and that was unlike her. "It's called the 'Kiki Cutter' rose. A grower who is a fan named it after me."

Mark held the pot and examined the plant. It had several deep pink flowers, matching the color of the rose blooms Kiki used as her logo. He smiled. "It looks pretty hardy, like its namesake."

"I was hoping you could find a place for it here, where it could take root, and thrive."

"It will be welcome here. I promise I'll take care of it." It was a quiet recognition of the symbolism.

"So," asked Kiki. "Where does all of this leave us?"

"I meant what I said before," replied Mark seriously. "I could never, and would never, love a girl who did to me what you did, even though she still gets to me."

"Well," said Kiki. "I guess you have the strength to walk away from me after all." She could not hide all of the disappointment in her voice or her face. "Why did you come to see me that day at the track?"

"I suppose because I'm a bit older, and have a lot more mileage. I guess I knew somewhere inside that I forgave you, even before you were hurt, and wondered what you felt after all this time. The Judge had me pegged that I still had pretty strong feelings."

"Which still begs the question: are you walking away now?"

Mark pushed some of Kiki's hair behind her ear, letting his fingers linger and play with a few strands. "Well, not walking away forever. I'm not quite done yet. I couldn't love a girl who was still capable of such a lie, but the woman in front of me now, who made such a sacrifice for me without wanting anything in return, well, she's someone I'd like to know better. She's grown up, like I have." He smiled. "Look, we both have big changes coming up in our lives. You divorcing Sammy, and retiring for good at the end of the season. I know you feel burned out now, but I think you need time to figure out what you want to do with your life. Same for me. My parole is ending soon, and I don't intend to stay a handyman for the rest of my life."

"What about racing? You are so good at it, Mark. It's almost a crime not to use your talent."

"Maybe. It hasn't worked out so far. Look, I just think it's best that we travel a separate path for a while. Where each of us is going, the other can't follow, and what we do the other can't be a part of right now."

Kiki smiled slightly. "It sounds like Bogart saying goodbye to Bergman at the end of Casablanca." They had watched the movie the previous night. "Next thing, you'll be telling me that the 'lives of two people don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world.' "

Mark laughed. "Oh, they matter a mountain of beans to the two people involved! I mean it though, I think we need to circle back at some point, see how we feel about each other and how we could fit into each other's lives. We owe ourselves that." He grinned. "If it doesn't work out, well, here's lookin'at you, kid. Remember, we'll always have Orange County Raceway."

Trivia: For those who have not yet seen Casablanca, Bogart's famous lines to departing love Ingrid Bergman include "Here's looking at you, kid" and "We'll always have Paris." This is one of my favorite "dialogue" movies.

Other shamelessly adapted quotes originate from:

''How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is To have a thankless child!.." King Lear Shakespeare

"Yes, it's Superman. Strange visitor from another planet, who came to Earth with powers and abilities far beyond those of mortal men." Intro from the 50's TV show.

"Oh what a tangled web we weave, When first we practise to deceive!" Sir Walter Scott Marmion, Canto vi. Stanza 17.

The phrase of revenge being a dish best served cold seems to have multiple origins.