Trigger (13 page)

She’s been looking for a professional weapons expert
and is supposed to meet a good candidate this weekend at the
racetrack in Southwest Virginia. She’s promised BB for months that
she’d take him to the track so he can blow the city kinks out.

“Miss Mason, your package has arrived. I can’t wait
to see what he sent this time.”

Every Thursday, right on schedule a box of
chocolates arrive from Simon. She heard that he was getting pretty
tight with the heiress of a financial firm, but the chocolates keep
coming. With each box is a note, asking her for a date to dinner or
a play or let’s see what it is today. Not bad, a walk in the park
during the first snow of the season.

A promise is a promise and she never breaks a
promise. Anyway she knows he just likes the chase. They never
talked much, but each and every time it was all fluff and sexual
innuendos. She knows he can’t be trusted, like the rest of them.
From what she knows of him, Simon is intelligent, a hell of a
businessman, charming and absolutely gorgeous, but he lacks
substance and soul.

She hands the box to her P.A. who takes it
gratefully.

“If you don’t want this guy, Miss Mason, can I have
him?”

“Sure, Candace, his contact information is in our
database.” If anyone could handle Simon’s crap, she feels
comfortable that Candace could.

It’s a beautiful fall
day. Clear blue skies, cool breeze and bright sun. She and BB drove
straight from work to the track and he’s getting a complete tune up
and tires for the track. Three top notch mechanics are giving him
their all.

“Miss Mason?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Stan Renick it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Tall, handsome, with twinkling eyes that remind her
of Simon, he’s forty-five and has been in the military, worked for
Colt, Glock and owns several Olympic gold medals and a bunch of
silver and bronze.

“Thank you for coming, Mr. Renick.”

“That’s yours?” He points to BB.

“Yes. He’s my best friend. I treat him to the track
here a couple times a year so he can cut loose.”

Stan laughs. “I’ve always believed that women were
meant to be racecar drivers. You gals are so in tune with your
cars.”

“Well, what can I say, people can be unreliable. He
fires up each and every time I want to go somewhere. He never
complains if he has to wait for me or hold my purse.”

He laughs again. It’s very pleasant.

“Are you staying at the track Miss Mason?”

“Yes. I’m at Hanson House. You?”

“The lodge.”

“BB is in good hands and I could use some lunch.
Will you join me?”

“BB?”

“Big Boy. I called him that the first day I got him.
It stuck.”

“I had a Shelly once. Dark green 1964 Mustang with
red and white racing stripes and a Shelby engine, she was the light
of my dark teenage years.”

Stan is very pleasant to be with. She’s given him
the business plan for the ranges and he’s asked the questions she
hoped he would. Three hours later and they’re still at lunch.

“I’m impressed with you, but I must ask why you want
this job. It demands a hands-on approach to management. There are
so many variables it’s like twenty full-time businesses rolled into
one job. The pubic and member ranges, gun sales with regulations
make lawyers weep, military groups, law enforcement . . . well you
know, it all in the business plan.”

“Challenge, Miss Mills, and stability, I’m
forty-five and have never settled down. I’m ready and the diversity
of your ranges doesn’t scare me it excites me. I’m a good manager
and value efficiency and accountability. It’s the nature of someone
who’s spent his life pulling the trigger on lethal weapons.”

He laughs and it’s so pleasant she can’t help but be
drawn in to join him.

“Do you shoot, Miss Mason?”

“Gerry still growls at me for not competing. I
practice at least three times a week, every week. I really enjoy
the combat courses and I’ve never failed one.”

He’s staring at her.

“What?”

“But you’re so beautiful, what you’re saying doesn’t
seem to fit what I see in front of me. Beauty, class and
sophistication and a gun, it’s hard to picture.”

“Well if you think that’s difficult to picture,
besides shooting I’m a damn good boxer and a fifth level black belt
in Kempo-Karate. When I can’t sleep, I get out of bed at two
o’clock in the morning and run five to ten miles without breaking a
sweat and I’m still in my office by six.”

“So you are a lethal weapon?”

Steven’s face flies in front of her and she misses
him hard for a few seconds. “Yes. I’ve been called that by some of
the most exciting people I’ve known.”

“Wait! It can’t be. You’re the woman in red! Oh my
God, I’m so pleased to meet you. I never imagined that I would meet
you. I was in Afghanistan training militia when the video and news
carried the story. By the end of the week posters of you were all
over the military bases with the words. She’s what you’re staying
alive for and she’s fighting for you to come home. I can’t believe
I didn’t recognize you immediately. I went to sleep for six months
looking at your poster.”

She doesn’t know what to say or how to feel. She’s
tried so hard to put that evening out of her mind. She told Charles
it would never go away and it would follow her for the rest of her
life. Sometimes being right sucks.

“Have I upset you? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. Did
you know how much you mean to so many people? How inspiring you
are? When we were headed out on patrol and we knew some of wouldn’t
make it back. It was our thing to say: ‘Don’t let her down’. It was
you we were talking about.”

“I didn’t know.”

“Well Miss Mason, you must have been hiding for the
past few years, because everyone else in the world knows you.”

Hiding, no she’s not hiding. The person she was that
evening is dead. She’s glad to know that maybe she’s helped someone
to survive, but it didn’t save her.

“So, I think this interview has gone very well Mr.
Renick. What do you think?”

“I so excited I can hardly sit still.”

“Do you run?”

“Only when chased, this body isn’t really made for
running. I’m six-five and two hundred and forty pounds. Hiking,
mountain climbing and hunting, that’s where I shine along with
rowing, kayaking and long board surfing is mighty fun too.”

“I’ve never done any of those things.”

“If you let me, I’d love to teach you. They’re all
very challenging and especially rewarding.”

“I’ve decided, Mr. Renick, welcome to Stalwart
Companies. Unless you would like to discuss terms further, I’d like
to shake on it.” She holds out her hand and looks at his twinkling
eyes. His hand is warm and engulfs hers in a gentle shake. Her hand
would tingle when Steven held it, sparks burned through her when
she Simon held her hand and they danced. Stan Renick’s hand feels
warm and pleasant.

“Yes, I think we’ll work well together.”

She loves it here and is talking to the real estate
company that manages the property. She just might buy a place here
for her and BB. She jogged to where BB is and checked on him and
then took off over the dirt roads and paths through the woods and
jumped a couple fences. She ran beside the track, checking out the
curves and turns for when she and BB get their chance to stretch
their legs tomorrow. They only had a few laps available for her
this trip. She has to make them count. Time has no meaning here.
She runs until her mind and body are in synch.

“I’ve seen you running all evening. You’d be over
there and then you were behind me and then pop out jumping over and
fence. We were placing bets on where you’d show up next. I think
you ran the entire property.” Stan Renick is sitting on her porch
with a bottle of wine and two glasses.

“We?”

“A couple of off-duty mechanics and I shared burgers
and beer on the patio.”

Oh.

“The moon is coming up and it’s a beautiful evening,
I thought it would be nice to have a celebratory toast to our
association and listen to the crickets hunt for a mate.” He smiles
at her.

“That’s a lovely idea, Mr. Renick, but to be honest
I’m exhausted. I’ve been up since about four, worked all day, drove
the length of Virginia and I am too tired to have fun.” She laughs
lightly and watches his face fall.

“Don’t forget that you probably ran ten miles. I do
understand and I hope you don’t think I was being forward. I enjoy
being with you and I’m happy that I get to work with you. I wanted
to share how I feel.”

“Open the bottle, Mr. Renick. One drink and then I’m
going to kick your ass off this porch, so I can get some sleep for
tomorrow. She holds it, but, of course, doesn’t drink any of it.
She has her Dad’s blood in her veins. A drunk and a murderer, that
isn’t who she wants to be.

“Now that’s a plan!” His eyes twinkle like
Simon’s.

She’s as excited as BB.
Jarrod, the head mechanic is on the track with BB, checking to see
if everything is working properly. When he get’s back, she and BB
get to take the track together.

Mr. Renick surprised her this morning with a gray
driving suit and helmet that matches BB and he’s scrounged a
professional photographer to take some stills and a video of our
time on the track. She’s never had a photo of her and BB. It would
be nice to have.

“Purring like a cat,” Jarrod says as he gets out of
BB.

“He is a Jaguar, Jarrod, I’m glad you didn’t make
him bark like a dog.”

Several people laugh and then the photographer takes
a series of shots with her and BB, then with the mechanics, and
Jarrod and then one with Mr. Renick. “I hope you don’t mind, I’m
honored to be photographed with you, Miss Mason.”

“So you’re going to show it to all your military
buddies?”

“Of course! And everyone else I know.” She’s
surprised so many people came out to watch her, that’s never
happened before. She figures Stan Renick told everyone she was the
woman in red. Ugh.

Jarrod tucks her into BB with the harness he
installed for the track run. “Take the preliminary lap slow and
memorize the turns. The track has changed some since you were here
last. I’ll be watching for any problems. Don’t hit it until you
pass the start on your first run and only if you see a green.”

“Thanks Jarrod, you remember I’ve done this
before.”

“Just a reminder Miss Mason. Have fun.”

She’s so excited, of all the things she does this
time on the track is more special than anything else. It feels so
natural and the speed doesn’t frighten her, its more like the
faster she goes the slower it is. She has more than enough time to
plan and maneuver how is best for BB. It’s her photographic memory
Jarrod explained, the first time she came here. It’s perfect for a
race driver he said.

Joy, pure joy and she and BB are nearly through
their first lap. BB is driving like crazy, smooth, quick, firm on
the steering. He’s isn’t so good on tight turns, so she goes wider
and backs off just a tad.

Fast is good, but she wants to drive him home this
afternoon. She’d love to stay, but she’s meeting with the new
company she just bought and there are some problems to work
through. But now it’s her and BB on the track and nothing else is
on her mind but this time.

She lives each second, each turn, feeling the speed
and the purr of BB’s engine. The light is green and she and BB are
flying. Easy as sliding into a bubble bath she’s come to love, she
and BB work together like one piece of machinery. She watches BB's
RPMs carefully to save the best for last and max him out for a run
across the finish line.

This run is as perfect as the others, but time is
running out. She’ll have to exit after she crosses the finish and
then it will be over.

“We’ll come again BB, don’t you fret.”

On the last turn before the straight to the finish
and for some reason BB glides through the long turn better than he
has all day. She wants to pat him, but holds firm and then sees the
light flashing red, but she’s already there, and a modified is in
front of her on the track, stopped.

She brings BB down as fast as she can but it’s too
short to stop, if she stays to the track she’ll hit head on. Her
best chance is to swing to the left and spin out in the grass. She
hits the brakes and the gas angles BB wide, she’ll make big circles
but at least they’ll take her and BB away from the stopped
vehicle.

It’s working smooth as cake batter, two more spins
and she’ll be clear. A loud pop like a .45 caliber but different
and she and BB are airborne. It feels like minutes, there’s really
nothing for her to do but hold on. Tires don’t grip air and
steering has no effect, she’s going to crash. She straightens BB’s
wheels and hope they don’t roll too many times. BB is a street car
with none of the reinforcement of true racing cars.

The crash comes hard and she blanks out for a
millisecond, and then she sees they’re rolling, launching and
crashing again . . . roll, launch, crash . . . roll, launch, crash
. . . and she can see people running and lights flashing when the
windshield crosses in front of their path and then she’s whirling
and facing the sky. Now they’re flipping front to rear and she
knows it’s over. She and BB will not survive. Her last thought is
of Steven and then Simon. “I love you Steven. I love you Simon, I
always have.” She yells because no one can hear her. No one will
ever know.

White lights too bright.
It hurts to look at it. Whispers, “She’s coming out of it” and the
lights go out.

“Judy. Judy can you hear me? It’s all right, Judy.
You’re going to be all right. I’m here. You’re safe.”

She knows that voice and she knows she’s dead. He
was her last thought alive.