The three decided to walk up and look at the new drag strip, but not until after Mark pulled the Coyote inside the second car carrier and then locked up both. He also pulled Babara's Cougar right up to the back door of the car carrier that contained the new car. He automatically placed her keys in his pocket. Hardcastle shook his head. Barbara smiled at both of them. Mark instructed the two guys who had driven the rigs and would be his pit crew, "Under no circumstances are you two to leave these trucks if you want to have a job longer than when I get back."

Hardcastle asked as they walked off toward the drag strip, "Little rough on those guys weren't you?"

Mark replied, "No, I wasn't."

It was early evening by the time they walked up to the drag strip. Several other teams were starting into the track to get set up for qualifying the next day. As they topped the hill at the track, they could see the valley below with several car carriers entering into the valley. Mark, being a driver, and Barbara, to a certain point, used to know all the car carriers almost as well as they did the cars they contained. The teams sized up their competition by knowing who was going to be racing and figured this as soon as they saw the car carriers. Mark had only drag raced a few times back when he had first arrived in California, so he didn't recognize these car carriers like he did the ones entering across the valley to the dirt track. "You know, Bonnie might have a good crowd this weekend." They stood watching the car haulers for another minute when Mark saw one that at a glance he thought he used to know but couldn't place it. He was surprised when it turned toward the drag strip, then, he knew why he had known that car carrier.

Barbara said, "Are you all ready to go see the drag strip?"

Mark didn't answer.

Hardcastle looked at Mark, who looked like a ghost.

00000

ONE WEEK EARLIER

She heard the three teenagers coming before they entered her upstairs apartment of a two story house. "What is all the excitement?"

Her nephew spoke so quickly she almost didn't understand what he was saying. "You remember the car we are building in school?"

She did. He had asked her what gear ratio would work best several weeks earlier. Not being able to answer, she nodded.

"We got it done! It's ready! Since it was all donated parts, the class owns it out right." They had all gone to summer school to see this project complete. "We want to run it."

Innocently she asked, "Run it?"

"Yeah, at the track! But there's a one small problem; the school doesn't have a problem with the project being raced. They do have a problem with any of the students racing it," he explained.

As though she had no idea what he wanted, she said, "And?"

"Well, see I told all the guys I had us a driver!" he said looking hopeful.

"You did. Did you? And who might that be?" she asked.

Her nephew's friends were looking at him as though they knew he had been exaggerating all along since the school had dropped the bomb that they could race the car, just not with them driving it, due to insurance purposes and school liability of their students while on extra curricular activities.

"Ah, come on, quiet funning. I've heard the stories and seen the pictures of you and your friends since I could drive a wagon. Pleeaaasssee?" he literally begged.

She was hooked five minutes ago, but said, "That was a long time ago. Besides, you know there are several reasons why I quit racing."

The two friends looked amazed. Together they said, "You really did race?"

"What has he told you? I ... ah ..." She shrugged her shoulders, "Raced a little."

Her nephew could ring her neck right there on the spot. "Racing ... and winning ... in NHRA Top Fuel class isn't raced a little. And what about the championships? And the records you set?"

"Yeah, it is. Really. So I take it, this car is not a Top Fuel car?" she asked. She had heard what they were working on and knew it would be in the Pro Stock class.

Looking worried, they all three said, "No. It will be Pro Stock." They were worried she'd not want to race in a lower class.

Without mentioning why, she simply said, "I'm glad it's not a Top Fuel. So, how do you plan to get this car to the track? And do you have a pit crew?"

The boys assured her they had plenty of pit crew; the whole class and the teacher would be there. Her nephew looked surprised. They had covered all angles of this for months and had not thought about getting the car to the track. "To the track?"

She shook her head. "You know I may not even be able to cut the light anymore. Are you sure you all want me to do this?"

Three excited teens shook their heads yes.

She turned and placed a call to a friend who just might let her use a car hauler and equipment.

00000

BACK AT THE TRACK

Mark still looked like he had seen himself, as a Ghost! Finally he shook his head, and said, "I used to know that race rig. Must have been sold by now; the driver isn't racing anymore. Come on, let's go see the track."

00000

Hardcastle knew Mark better than he knew himself. Mark may have been looking at the track, and may have been with Barbara and himself, but his eyes never left that car carrier. Mark watched as a Burgundy Thunderbird pulled in behind the car carrier. He waited for the man driving it to get out and confirm that this was not who he thought it was. He was so sure he wasn't right; right up until the tall slender brunette wearing sunglasses got out of the car. She pushed her glasses onto her head as she started directing the others, which was unseen to Mark.

Hardcastle and Barbara were talking about a case she had, when Mark said, "Meet you at the car carrier. I got to go."

Mark made his way through empty staging area of the track where test runs would begin later in the evening. Stopping about fifteen feet from the now opened car carrier, Mark took in the sight. She was running the show here, though the car inside wasn't Top Fuel but Pro Stock. From habit if nothing more, Mark scanned the area for Sammy O'Connell. Since he had known the female in question, she had either been with Sammy or himself. His brain was bungee jumping he was trying to think, without much luck. The math didn't compute. Mark couldn't figure how long it had been since she was hurt in that accident that wasn't an accident. He decided right then, 'The rest be damned.' He was going over there. Walking up behind her, he said so softly that he almost hadn't heard himself, "Kiki?"

Thinking she was safe from anyone who had ever known her at this small track, she had agreed to race this car for her nephew and had even been able to borrow her old transport trailer she had used to transport her Top Fuel car. That had been a lifetime ago; so very much had happened since the last time she put on a racing helmet. She had been over the dale, around the bend, and to hell and back, just to be here unloading this car. Who could possibly know her here? She turned and saw "Skid" standing right in front of her. "Aahhhhh!" she screamed, right before jumping into his arms!

Luckily for her, Mark's reflexes were still working much better than his brain at this moment! He caught her in his arms and pulled her close for a long kiss. All thoughts of her being with someone else had long left Mark's thinking process. As had all her thoughts of the dozen teenagers standing open mouthed behind them watching the greeting!

The teacher of the class gave them a few minutes by attempting to busy the kids with the car. When he saw his tactic wasn't working, he tried clearing his throat, which didn't work. When several of the teenagers began to snicker at their teacher's uneasiness, as well as his attempt to get their attention, this did get both Mark and Kiki's attention.

With all eyes on him, Mark was beginning to feel a slight bit uncomfortable, especially seeing a man several years older than himself attempting to get Kiki's attention, though she hadn't left Marks' side.

Slightly embarrassed herself, Kiki turned to the teacher, Mr. Jones. She had to laugh at both herself and Mark, as well as Mr. Jones' shocked look. She began, "Sorry about that, you all..."

Before getting another word in her nephew, Danny, said, "Hey! I know you! You're the guy from the pictures!"

Having known Kiki for quite some time Mark was afraid to ask, but did anyway, "What pictures?"

She waved him off, "You know, all those that were taken when we were racing."

"You still have those?" Mark asked.

"Of course I do." She replied quietly.

Danny was now really excited telling his friends about Mark beating Sammy a few years ago. "Pete, remember the guy who she was married to, who always thought he was hot shit? Well, that guy is the one who beat him a few years ago."

Pete asked, "The one you said had all the trophies?"

"Yeah, and he beat him!" Danny exclaimed.

Mark looked at Kiki, "What kind of tales have you been telling on me?"

"The truth." she replied. "Let me introduce you to, my ... well ... pit ... crew. Then, I'll explain." she smiled hopeful that Mark would let her explain what was going on without a dozen ears listening.

"Well, if it's anything like my explanation to you, this might be an interesting talk," he declared.

She had to laugh. "Okay, guys," she said to the class of ten boys and two girls, "Mr. Jones."

Mark was relieved to hear her call the older man, Mr. Jones.

"Let me introduce you to an old friend. We used to race together. This is Mark "Skid" McCormick. He has done more dirt track racing, but I still don't want to line up against him on a drag strip," she said to the class. Then to Mark, "This is my nephew, Danny. His friends Pete and Pat, his class, and teacher, Mr. Jones. They had a car donated." She pointed to the car behind her. "They have worked on it all year and this summer. The school wouldn't let them drive it in the race."

Full understanding registered on Mark's face as he smiled at Kiki. She had always liked the underdog.

Pete asked, "You really beat Sammy O'Connell?"

This wasn't a subject Mark wanted to talk about, but since they had heard the story, there was no use denying it. "Yes, I did. You guys wanna show me what you built here?" Mark was feeling generous.

Mr. Jones could tell Mark was modest about the race with O'Connell, or there was more to the story. He said quietly as they walked over to the trailer. "Mr. McCormick, I was at that race when you beat O'Connell. You were great."

Mark smiled an unreadable smile, then replied quietly, "Mr. Jones, I wasn't great that day, I was mad!"

The teens were attempting to figure out the high dollar car carrier, when Mark stepped in, "Let me show you how everything on this ol' truck works so you'll know next time." He raised his eyes to Kiki. Wondering if there would be a next time.

She read his question and replied with a shrug of her shoulders and a smile.

As Kiki and Mr. Jones watched, Mark and the kids had the car unloaded in short order. Mark was going over it with a fine toothed comb.

00000

Across the drag strip, Hardcastle and Barbara were still talking while the Judge kept one eye on McCormick. The way the idiot took off, it might pay to keep an eye on him for awhile.

As with Mark, Barbara wasn't too familiar with the drag racers.

The Judge saw Mark stop short away from a car carrier. The next thing he knew, Mark had a brunette in his arms. A closer look revealed to the Judge that he also knew the woman. She was Kiki Cutter O'Connell, one of Mark's old girlfriends. The Judge had met her several years before after she had been involved in a racing accident. The Judge remembered that McCormick made a midnight trip to O'Connell's garage, where he discovered that Kiki's car had been sabotaged.

Hardcastle nudged Barbara, "He was worried about the skeletons that might be here this weekend."

Barbara noted, "Looks like they know each other pretty well." she smiled.

Hardcastle wasn't putting his dog in this fight. He wasn't sure how close Mark and Barbara were or how much she knew of his past. Hardcastle replied, innocently, "Guess you'll have to ask Mark about that."

They were watching as Mark helped the kids unload the car.

Barbara frowned a bit, "Looks like the pit crew is a little young."

Hardcastle only grunted his acknowledgment, thinking to himself, 'What are you doing kid? Haven't you got enough to worry about?'

00000

Minutes after unloading the car, Mark had it started up and listening to the engine. It sounded to him like the kids knew what they were doing. He said to the teacher, "Looks like you had a good class!"

Both the teacher and the class took the statement as a compliment.

To Kiki, Mark said, "I know you just got here and I know that you have come to win. But, do you have anything pressing right now? The Judge is across the track if he hasn't gone to the car carrier. I know he'd like to see you again, and there's someone else I want you to meet."

"Car carrier?" Kiki smiled at the question.

Mark smiled back at her question. "Actually, car carriers."

She knew that Mark was trying to get her alone. "Mr. Jones, if you don't mind, I need to go register the car and I'm going to go say 'Hi' to an old friend. I think we're pretty much ready here, if you want to just let them get the fingerprints off the car. Then they can just hang out and experience the track. Doing this for them is really something they will never forget. I was hooked the first race I watched. But, they built this car. They have a stake in the outcome."

Mr. Jones said, "Go ahead. We'll be fine. Well, at least until it's time to see what that car can do. I think I'm more nervous than they are."

Mark replied, "Of course you are. They don't know what nerves are yet."

The three adults laughed before Mark and Kiki left to register the car.

00000

Once out of hearing distance, Kiki said, "Okay, give. What brings you and Hardcastle here? Car carriers? I'm almost afraid to ask."

"Well," Mark said as they walked, his arm still around her waist, "You remember Flip? His daughter, Barbara, has had another one of his designs built and is ready to test..."

"Let me guess who's driving?" she said.

Mark just shrugged his shoulders and smiled, "What can I say? Have you raced at all since the last time I saw you?"

"No." She knew exactly what Mark was asking. "I'll be Okay. Like I told them, I may not even be able to cut a light. That's why I wanted to get here today so I can see tomorrow. " She paused, "It's not Top Fuel, more important, Sammy's not around and has no clue I'm here."

Mark replied, "Yeah, about that."

"Its Okay." She waved him off. "Lets' get this done. We can talk later. Besides, I want to see this new car."

After registering the car, Mark and Kiki were able to catch up with Hardcastle and Barbara as they were walking toward the dirt track. "Hardcase!" Mark called.

The Judge and Barbara turned to see Mark and Kiki coming their way.

Mark stopped, still a few feet away from Hardcastle. "The car will be Okay up here. Why don't you go get the kids and we can introduce them to the dirt track, too."

She smiled. Mark had always been a good guy and she was supposed to be helping keep up with the kids until one of the girls' mom came over after work to help chaperon. "Give me a second." Kiki turned toward the garage area of the track.

Walking over to Hardcastle, Mark said, "She'll be back in a minute. She went to get her pit crew."

Hardcastle huffed slightly, "Looked more like the Mickey Mouse Club from where I was at."

Mark reminded him, "Judge I was younger than that when I first made a pit crew. Be nice."

Hardcastle groaned as they were soon circled by energetic teenagers.

Mark replaced his arm around Kiki's waist as he began to make the introductions. "Judge, you remember Kiki. Barbara, this is Kiki Cutter." Mark purposely left off the O'Connell. "Mr. Jones. Class," he said speaking to the kids as one, "This is retired Superior Court Justice Milton C. Hardcastle and Barbara Johnson, Flip Johnson's daughter." Though he knew the kids may not have ever heard of Flip, he'd bet that Mr. Jones had.

After the introductions, the rather large group of seventeen started toward the other track. Hardcastle made a point of hanging back to ask Mark, "McCormick don't you have enough going on?" the Judge whispered.

"Distraction can be good, Judge." Mark smiled.

Milt glared at him.