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“I just did.”

I’m not sure what colorshe intended on dying her hair but now she just resembled my mom’s calico catGasket.

“Nice uh...hair,” I smiled as she handed me a thickmanila envelope.

Alley swatted at me.“Shut up asshole!”

“What’s this?” I openedthe envelope once inside the Expedition.

“It’s the paperworkfrom Phillip for the title transfer for Ms. Taylor.”

“Is this everything?”My fingers slipped through the legal documents with sticky notes where I neededto sign. “All I have to do is sign and the house is hers, right?”

“Yes...sign there and there...the rest is taken care of.”

I hadn’t told anyone,but after I was released from the hospital, I had Phillip help me find a homein Memphis for Axle’s mom, Sara. She was a single mother, and any money she didhave went into medical care for Axle or his funeral. I deposited twentythousand dollars into an account for her, and found a small 2-bedroom house forher to make a fresh start with her two-year old daughter Mia. I had no ideawhat it was like to lose a child and I hoped I never had to feel what she wasfeeling right now. The least I could do for her washelpher out financially and provide them with a place to live.

“What kind of statementwould you like to make to the media?” Alley asked typing away on herBlackberry.

“Let’s just saysomething along the lines of...Thank you for all your support and prayers but my family and I ask that yourespect our privacy. I will not be commenting on anything related to mypersonal life or associated with my family’s personal lives.” I pausedreciting it silently to myself once more. “Would that be too harsh?”

Alley smiled butcontinued to type. “No, I think that’s perfect.”

“Simplex wants to talkwith you.”

“Great.”

Everything was quietfor a few minutes until Alley’s phone beeped. She read the message and burstout laughing.

“What?” Kyle askedmerging onto the highway. I continued to sign the paperwork needed for thetitle transfer but listened to what she was saying.

“Wyle Products justwithdrew sponsorship from Gibson Racing. Darrin and Mike are both out of a ridenow.”

It’s not like that mademe feel better, but it did help.

The clouds had partedby the time we made it back to New Hampshire Raceway. Inside the hauler gettingready for our team meeting, a NASCAR official told me Gordon wanted to see me.

I wasn’t sure what toexpect when I walked inside the NASCAR hauler before the drivers meeting but Ihardly expected Gordon Reynolds to be in there alone. A typical NASCAR meetingsconsisted of Gordon, Director of Competition and Patrick Madden, CEO of NASCARand usually a few other officials that I never knew or cared to really know.This wasn’t a typical trip to the principal’s office.

I walked inside,closing the door behind me, reticently glancing around.

Would he question meabout Darrin? Would he ask about Sway? All questions I asked myself when I tooka seat.

“I think there issomething you should see.” Gordon’s eyes lifted my direction and then turnedhis lap top around to face me.

“What are you talkingabout?” I asked looking at the CD in his hand. “What is that?”

“It’s the videosurveillance from the east stairwell of the Concord grandstands.” he saidswiveling his laptop around. “Therearesurveillancecameras located on each floor and in each stairwell.”

Was he serious?

My heart pounded as agasp escaped. With shaking and sweaty palms, my voice trembled when I spoke.“Why don’t the police have that?”

“They do. This isNASCAR’s copy.” Gordon relaxed into his black leather chair behind his cherrywooden desk. Paper work and folders spread out everywhere buried the wood. “Doyou want to see it?”

“Yes.” I said with anacrimony tone reaching for the CD.

Gordon yanked it backshaking his head. “I can’t let you have it, but you can watch it here.” Hismalevolent tone sparked as he inserted the CD into his laptop.