Part 13 (1/2)

”Why would Richard confide in you? He didn't seem like someone who spilled secrets to random strangers or acquaintances,” I said.

Her amber eyes darkened with emotion. ”We weren't random strangers.”

”So you have some type of history? I heard there was an altercation last year between a protester and a racer. Was that you and Richard?”

”You heard wrong. Lenny Santucci argued with a judge. He thought she was playing favorites. There were no problems between anyone in our organization and a racer.

”So you and Richard were what? Friends?” As in friends with benefits?

Fallon started to answer, but Hagan Stone suddenly called out my name, stopping her cold. The three of us turned in his direction as he bounded our way. MacAvoy cursed under his breath. I had to agree, Hagan had horrible timing.

”h.e.l.lo, Ms. Langston. I wasn't sure you were here.” Hagan sounded out of breath. What was so important that he felt the need to run?

”I'm definitely here.” Oh, dang. The booth. I still needed to unpack the merchandise.

Hagan sucked in one last deep breath, then let it out in a rush. ”I won't need you as a judge after all. Thank you for your willingness to help. I do so appreciate it.”

While I was distracted with Hagan, Fallon seized the opportunity to slink off without a word. Darn. I had more questions for her.

”I'm glad it all worked out.” Because my promise to judge had completely slipped my mind. I was about to excuse myself so I could chase after Fallon until I noticed Hagan's gaze collide with MacAvoy.

The intensity was palpable. Hagan's expression morphed from grat.i.tude into a mixture of surprise and then worry. I would have thought he'd be happy to know the event was being covered by the media. Even if it was by the noon reporter. Everyone knows, beggars can't be choosers.

”It's nice to see you again, Mr. MacAvoy,” Hagan said. His normally charming tone lacked sincerity.

”Stone. I hear congratulations are in order.” MacAvoy's smile was anything but happy for Hagan. ”I heard you bought a bar in the Florida Keys.”

Hagan's face became unreadable. ”My, it's a small world. That's not public knowledge.” His words came out stilted, forced, as if suppressing the urge to lose his temper. ”Who told you?”

MacAvoy held out his hands, palms up. ”As a reporter, I can't reveal my sources.”

The words were innocuous. An excuse you'd expect from reporter. But there was underlying meaning floating over my head that only they understood. By the glares they shared, I got the feeling they didn't just dislike each other, but they didn't trust one another either.

I was clearly at a disadvantage in this conversation. But that didn't stop me from jumping in with both feet.

”Hagan, I was curious. There's a filmmaker at the event. She's shooting a dogumentary about wiener racing. Have you talked to her?”

He s.h.i.+fted a fixed gaze in my direction, body stiff. ”I met with her yesterday. I believe I was one of the first people she interviewed. Fascinating young woman.” His tone suggested she wasn't a good kind of fascinating.

”Have you seen her today?”

”I can't say that I have. Did you need to speak with her?”

I'd wanted Betty's gun back, but I kept that to myself. ”I'd like to talk to her about the alleged doping and gambling operation.”

”Pardon?” His eyebrows lifted in surprise. ”You must be confused.”

”No, not at all. In fact, I've talked to enough people that I know it's all true.”

”As the Chairman of the Board, the doping allegations shouldn't be a shock to you,” MacAvoy piped up.

For a second I thought Hagan's strained smile was because of what I'd said, until I realized he was looking at MacAvoy. I shot Mr. TV a ”back off” look. Why did he have such a difficult time staying out of my Q&A session?

”She might have mentioned the possibility of some contestants using supplements of some kind,” Hagan conceded.

”I'm not trying to get anyone in trouble.” I held up my hands in an effort to ease the building tension. ”There are a lot of rumors floating around about doping. Today I heard about an underground gambling group. And another thing I've been wondering. Does anyone know why her company, Bright Eyes, decided to film our race? Was it luck of the draw or does she have information the rest of us don't? Is this supposed dogumentary really an expose and we're going to get caught up in it?”

MacAvoy jerked his head around. Had I actually thought of a scenario he hadn't?

”I know nothing about gambling. Perhaps you've been hanging around the wrong crowd.” Hagan quickly shot a hostile look at MacAvoy before managing to look at me with concern. I wasn't convinced of his sincerity. About being concerned, that is. I believed his hostility. I was p.r.o.ne to feel it myself when it came to the handsome reporter.

”I have numerous tasks to attend to before race time. And I do believe your booth has yet to be unpacked, Ms. Langston.” Hagan turned on his heel and charged off, effectively dismissing us.

I'd just been served.

Hagan was hiding something. Just like Fallon. I'd get to the bottom of it, sooner or later.

MacAvoy continued to watch Hagan walk away. ”You gave me some advice yesterday. Let me return the favor. Don't get too comfortable around him.”

”Hagan Stone?”

He nodded.

I shrugged, unconcerned. ”He's harmless.”

”He's dangerous.”

His flat tone made me turn and look at him.

”O-kay. Dangerous as in he'll turn a blind eye to potentially harmful conditions for the dogs? Or dangerous as in he'll kill me?”

MacAvoy aimed his intense green eyes on me. ”If you keep him from getting what he wants most, he'll remove you.”

h.e.l.ls bells. Getting in the way was my forte.

Chapter Sixteen.

I RUSHED TO THE booth, ignoring my growling stomach as I pa.s.sed the food trucks. The delicious aroma of fish tacos, chicken alfredo pizza, and gourmet hot dogs begged me to take a minute for lunch. But I was strong. Okay, let's be honest. I was in complete panic mode. Any other day, I'd have stopped for a fish taco. Maybe even a hot dog with grilled onions, cheddar cheese, and bacon. My mouth watered thinking about all the delicious food options at my fingertips.

All the other vendors in my row had their merchandise arranged and ready to sell. Fans started to trickle in. The second I reached Bow Wow Boutique's booth, I tossed aside my backpack and went to work.

Dog bowls and boxes of treats. Collars and leads. Paw-wear and outerwear. Key chains and dog toys. I was a stacking, folding, and hanging maniac. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of Darby heading my way.

Without a word, she stashed her camera and messenger bag under the table. She grabbed the last plastic tote and immediately started to unload.

”You are a G.o.dsend. How much time do we have?” I asked.