Chapter 2

A gentle sigh of cars going past her window was the only break in the silence permeating Deryn's apartment. Beside her the digital read out on her clock flashed 9:00am yet she was still lying on her living room couch, staring at the ceiling. Shadows and lights played across the stuccoed surface, but Deryn wasn't paying much attention to their patterned dance. Her mind was far away, spun off on horrifying and glorifying tangents. The source of her stupor lay haphazardly on the floor, its pages falling out of their folds.

On top of the pile was a section of newspaper plastered with a large photo of her face. A bold headline above it told readers that they were looking at the sports section. Underneath read the legend 'Rookie Racer Dylan Sharp Steals the Win and the Women: The up and coming star turns out to be a pro-women's rights sympathizer!'

Deryn had read and reread the piece quite a few times now. The angry phone call from her manager at 6 am had had her running down stairs to grab the first newspaper she could find. The piece read out cheerfully enough, actually including all of her other answers. Well, except for the bowl of potatoes bit. That had been turned into 'likes to eat a hearty breakfast.' The boy Dylan appeared to be charming, excited, and exceedingly cocky. And then you got to the final answer.

Here the writer had taken liberties guessing about Deryn's motives, having been unable to continue questioning her after her 'slip-up' the night before. They had gone from describing her as a conniving, attention seeking boy "…what an excellent ploy by the unknown rookie, to drop a mini bombshell during his first chance under the lime light. People will be talking about this one for a while…" to a thoughtful women's right's activist "…as a first-hand witness to the interview, it is this reporter's belief that the young Dylan Sharp's comments were sincere. It seems that at least one of these pro-racers is putting their publicity to good use and… [Continue reading, page 5.]"

But the article wasn't what had her mind spinning with an endless tumult of scenarios. She didn't care what the public thought of her, not really. So long as they continued to believe that she was the boy Dylan, she would be content. All that the article had done was drill home how touchy the subject of female rights still was. It was ridiculous how these men argued how women couldn't handle professional sports. She longed to come out into the open and shout at the masses that a girl COULD race, and she had proven it.

But she couldn't tell them. Not if she wanted to continue racing at any rate. The verbal spanking she had received from her manager earlier that morning had been proof enough of this.

'What were you thinking, answering a touchy political question like that?! You're a racer, not an activist. Stick to the script, kid: women don't race. You're lucky that your sponsor didn't nullify your contract last night after the…'

He had gone on for quite some time, making sure that Deryn completely understood the precarious position that her statement had landed her in. She wanted to scream.

A loud buzz cut through the silence, making her jump. Someone was at the door. Getting an apartment with a downstairs buzzer and an intercom had cost her a pretty penny, but it had paid for itself thrice over at this point. Often times her manager, sponsor, pit crew, and other callers looking for Dylan Sharp dropped by unannounced. The buzzer gave her enough warning to get into costume before they arrived upstairs.

She went over to the intercom and made sure to deepen her voice before asking whom it was.

"Deryn, it's Inspector Detector. I'd like to have a word with you about a matter of some importance. May we come up?"

Deryn froze, horror flooding through her system. It had been many years since she had heard that voice. Ten years, in fact. The Inspector Detector had been assigned to investigate the racing accident that had both put her in the hospital and taken her father's life. She shuddered as the long-abused memories replayed before her eyes: Inspector Detector visiting her in the hospital to ask a few questions, screaming at her mother that her father couldn't be dead… he just couldn't, and the dreadful scene from the night of the accident. Earlier that day she had begged her father to take her on a few practice runs. He hadn't done it often because it made mother crazy with worry, but that night he had made an exception. Seated in his lap, he had put her hands over his on the steering wheel, letting her guide them through the turns.

'Feel that shimmy? That's your back wheel trying to outrun your front,' he had said.

'So what do I do?' she had asked, worried.

'Stop steering and start driving,' her father had replied as they accelerated into another turn.

Everything had been going smoothly, but then the wheel had locked up as they were going into the final drop. Her father had taken over driving at that point, but his efforts had been futile. They had begun to spin out of control; the seat belt barely managed to keep them from flying around the cabin. Back then the foam safeties had been located in a vest worn by the racers, and Deryn's father had made her wear his as an extra precaution. Deryn remembered watching the ground rushing up to meet them before the foam obscured her vision.

Later she had been told that the foam from the jacket hadn't protected enough of her father's body to keep him from suffering the worst of the impact. As a child, it had completely devastated her. If only she hadn't begged to go with her father that night, he would still be alive. As an adult, the scene still haunted her some nights.

But she also remembered what the Inspector Detector had later revealed to the grieving family. The police investigations had discovered that the accident was the work of sabotage. Person or persons unknown had deliberately weakened the connections to the steering wheel in her father's car. Inspector Detector suspected that the connections were meant to wear out during her father's next race so that he would spin out of control and be unable to finish, but he could not prove anything further than that. So it wasn't her fault, not really. Not that that made her feel any better about it.

Preoccupied with memory, she failed to reply to the Inspector for several minutes.

A questioning, "Hello?" over the intercom brought her back to the present.

"Ah, yes of course, Inspector, sorry about that. And you said 'we'?"

"Yes, my colleague here is one of the reasons I've come to see you today. We have some new information concerning your father's case."

Deryn blanched again. Hadn't they closed the case five years ago for lack of evidence? What a morning this was turning out to be.

She buzzed them in and went to put on a pair of slippers and large T-shirt. Just because this mysterious colleague seemed to know she was female, didn't mean that she should take any chances. A form fitting cami was a lot more conspicuous than a baggy band shirt she had stolen from her brother Jaspert before moving out.

Debating whether or not her fluffy bunny slippers would be considered too feminine, a rapping on her door signaled that her guests had successfully climbed the stairs to her loft. She shrugged and put the slippers on. Every girl was entitled to something cute.

Answering the door she smiled slightly and said, "Welcome Inspector, long time no see." Even though five years had passed since their last meeting, the Inspector looked to have hardy aged a day. His blue overcoat was as crisp as a newly minted bill and the same blue fedora sat crammed onto his large head.

"Thank you for seeing us so early, I hope that we haven't inconvenienced you," said the Inspector, taking off his hat in a polite greeting.

"Not at all, come on in," she replied and gestured them to the living room. The Inspector's colleague nodded at her as he passed but didn't say a word. He was a little taller than she was and he wearing a baseball cap along with a pair of red-tinted sunglasses. Since they were indoors, Deryn wondered how he could see where he was going.

As they settled onto the couch she closed the door and called, "Would you like anything to drink? How about some coffee. I know that I could use a cuppa."

"I wouldn't want to inconvenience you any more than we already have…" the Inspector began.

Deryn passed through the living room and into the kitchen, "Nonsense," she said, "I always make too much coffee, anyways. How about your colleague?"

A posh, baritone voice called to her from the living room, "Coffee would be lovely, thank you."

Despite herself, Deryn was beginning to get a bit curious about the Inspector's mysterious colleague. He hid his face and yet spoke with an aristocratic flare. Maybe he was someone famous.

Getting the coffee took only a few minutes and once both men had steaming cups in their hands did she sit down. From her easy chair she watched as they either took sips from their cups or set them on the coffee table.

Once they were settled, the Inspector looked over at her and said, "Ah, my apologies, I haven't properly introduced everyone. Deryn Sharp, this is Racer X, you may have heard of him."

Her eyebrows rose slightly at this. Everyone had heard of the mysterious Racer X, the driver who left chaos and destruction in his wake. She just hadn't realized that the enigma of his racing personality overshadowed his social life as well.

"Since we recruited him, he's been helping us track down corporate criminals, many of them having to do with race fixing."

"Nice to meet you," she said calmly, but the grip on her mug slowly tightened in nervous anticipation. What had the Inspector found out about her father's accident?

"The pleasure is all mine," responded Racer X. His posh accent clashed oddly with his dressed down appearance that consisted of a pair of beat up blue jeans and a scuffed up leather jacket.

Turning back to the Inspector, Deryn wasted no time in getting to the point. "Inspector, you said that you had new information about my father's case? How can this be, its been ten years since the accident."

The Inspector looked up, "Yes, I realize that we had closed the case due to lack of evidence, but thanks to Racer X's hard work, we've been able to reopen a lot of old racing incidents in the past year."

"And?" she asked, her knuckles on the hand gripping her mug turning white with the force of her grip.

"And we now know who sabotaged his car. We're 80% sure that it was someone hired by Hohenburg Industries. They've been the top race fixers for nearly two decades, but we've never had enough evidence to convict them."

Her pulse hammered in veins, but she let no sign of her agitation show. "But you have enough evidence now?" She figured that they must. Why else would they be calling on her in person?

"Not yet."

Deryn looked over at Racer X who had spoken out of the blue.

"We need help to uncover more recent evidence of Hohenburg's duplicity. We need your help, Deryn."

To say that she was shocked would be an understatement. "Me?! What could I possibly do to help? I'm just a racer…"

The Inspector spoke up again, "Hohenburg is still fixing races, Deryn, we're sure of it. We're also sure that he will make a huge move this season so that his racer, Cannonball Taza, will win the Grand Prix with Hohenburg's new engine design, the Mach Transponder. We hope that with such a big business opportunity at stake, Hohenburg will be sloppy in his fixing approach and that this will allow us to catch him in the act."

Deryn stared at them silently, not quite understanding what they were driving at. Just because she dressed as a boy to participate in a 'man's sport' didn't mean she was a spy.

The Inspector continued, "He will be taking out all potential threats in the next few races. We need eyes and ears on the track to record any of his duplicitous moves. Generally we would use X for an assignment like this, but Hohenburg already knows that he works for us and is careful not reveal dishonest dealings in X's presence."

She scowled, finally understanding what they wanted from her. "In other words, you want me to be bait?"

Racer X spoke up again, "We want you to be THE bait. You're good, but you're not the best. With training we could make you the optimum target for Hohenburg's gang."

Her scowl deepened. "Then why don't you recruit the best if you're so concerned about my performance?"

He responded, "For one thing, most of the best racers out there are already in the employ of Hohenburg Industries." He smirked as she continued to scowl at him. "For another, no one else on the track has your motivation for taking Hohenburg down."

"Putting him behind bars won't bring my father back."

"No," he agreed, "but it will stop him and hinder the corrupt institution that got your father killed."

Deryn regarded them for a moment before saying, "Ok, let's say that I agree to this. What then?"

This time, the Inspector answered her, "Nothing too drastic. We would put surveillance equipment in your car and on your person to record what goes on during the race and to catch any duplicitous action. You would also be signing up for training with X to make you more of a threat.

"But we don't need your answer now," he continued, "Think on it a bit and make sure that it's what you really want to do. We'll get in contact with you after this Friday's race, and you can give us your final answer then."

She nodded, relieved. It was all a bit much to process in one sitting.

He stood up and Racer X casually followed suit. "Thank you for your time, Ms. Sharp. The coffee was wonderful, but now we must be on our way and out of your hair." Her gave her an apologetic smile.

She smiled in return and followed them to the doorway. "It was no trouble at all, gentlemen," she said on the landing, and shook their hands in farewell.

When she let go of X's hand he said, "See you in a week," and they were gone.

Sighing to herself, Deryn closed the door behind her and sat back in her easy chair to nurse her luke warm coffee. The digital clock on her end table read out 10am. What a crazy morning this had been.