Peter didn’t believe the speed Nina held as
she pushed the car into the final straightaway—she
powered the vehicle across the finish line and
stopped exactly on the final mark. Though it took
the judges a few minutes to post her time, Peter had
no doubt Nina had made a run that would hold up
across the remaining drivers.
Peter crossed the asphalt between them at a
lope. Nina slid out of the car grinning like a twelveyear-
old with a guilty secret.
“I guess I’m not going to give you back the entry
fee after all.” The laughter in her voice bubbled
through her words.
“Where in the hell did you learn to drive like
that, young lady?”
She shook back the curls that tumbled around
her face. “When I was twelve, my uncle taught me to
drive and let me practice in his parking lot. By the
time I was old enough to get my license, I could drive
anything I could get to run.”
“Some teacher, this uncle of yours. I’d like to get
a few lessons from him myself.”
Nina’s smile faded. “Wish you could, because
he’s the best. But he’s been out of the business for a
while. You may have heard of him. Eldon Lassiter?
He won at Indy a couple of times before he crashed
against the wall.”
Eldon Lassiter? Yeah, Peter and most of the
world had heard of him, the man who plowed a
furrow in the wall to keep from hitting a rookie
driver who lost control of his car. The crash put
Lassiter in a wheelchair for life but gave the rookie
only a broken collarbone.
Peter stared at the girl beside him. “And you
asked to drive my car? Why?”