To Betray A Brother (3 page)

“The chef here slow roasts his fillets for eight hours with hickory flavouring. There is no way to describe the flavour.”

Penny popped a slice of steak into her mouth, shut her eyes, and let the juice slowly coat her taste buds as she chewed. A soft “Mmm,” came unbidden from her throat. “I have never tasted steak like this.” She held up her knife. “Is this a butter knife? Since when have you been able to cut steak with a butter knife? The cooks, sorry chefs, who work here must be brilliant.”

“Rather like your shop.”

“Thank you, and that reminds me, I hear your engine parts have arrived, and you have your bike back together.” Penny reached for a glass of water.

“We did some testing this week. The results are promising.” With a nod he replied, “I’m looking forward to the race meet in a couple of weeks.”

“You always seem to be modifying your bike. How do you get the changes through scrutineering?” Justin looked at her, his expression indecipherable. Penny continued. “The rules are pretty strict, and those guys are not slouches.”

“The trick is to know the regulations.” He sat back, his voice softer. A predatory smile crossed his face. “And to work creatively within them.” She did her best to ignore the shiver as it ran down her spine. “I’d like you to consider joining my race team.”

“Sorry?” His words caught her by surprise, while his face once again sported his easy-going affable grin.

“We are well sponsored and could easily accommodate another rider, especially one as talented as you.” His mischievous eyes mocked the earnestness in his voice.

“I don’t know what to say.” Her face flushed, instantly hot, flattered beyond belief the great Justin Byrne would want her on his team.

“Then say yes.”

“Let me take some time to think about it, please. Your offer is extremely generous, for which I am grateful. Really I am. There’s not only me to consider.” What was she saying? She’d never considered moving into a combined team —until now.

“I’m sure Mick would enjoy the chance to slow down. He almost said as much when we last spoke.”

“I didn’t know you two spoke at all.” She kept her tone guarded.
What else did the two men talk about?

“Our paths crossed at the track a few weeks ago. It was nothing more than a little off-hand comment he made when I said he looked tired.” Justin waved the conversation away with a sweep of his hand. “Say, how’s your steak?”

* * * *

“Thank you so much. Dinner was to die for. I have never been anywhere like Toledo’s before,” said Penny as Justin slid the BMW from the curb.

“You’re welcome” he replied. “It’s my absolute pleasure to provide you with a first. I’d like to think there will be many more.” He turned to her as he spoke, looking like he had just won the lottery, and took her hand, dwarfing it with his. The touch of his skin was warm and comfortable, not at all unpleasant.

“What’s going on here,” asked Justin, looking ahead to the flashing blue and red lights of two police cars. “Pity the poor devil they’ve pulled over.”

A Harley sat between the two squad cars, the street lights silhouetting a familiar figure. “Is that Bryce?”

“I take back my last statement. I hope they throw the book at him.” Justin’s voice was laden with ice.

Bryce was handcuffed as he spoke to the officers. While she couldn’t be sure, his gaze appeared to follow the progress of their car, almost as if he recognised the occupants. A part of her wanted to race back and defend Bryce, rescue him from whatever injustice was being perpetrated. She curled her fingers into the palm of her hand, pressing her nails into her flesh. She meant nothing to Bryce. He’d been perfectly clear about that.

The rest of the drive home remained quiet. Penny wrapped in her own thoughts, and Justin focussed on driving. He pulled up outside of her house, killed the engine, and came around to open her door. She slid from the car and stood on the footpath. Somehow, seeing Bryce arrested soured the evening.

Justin bent to kiss her. She placed a hand on his chest and deflected him. “I have a big day tomorrow. Two more shipments of new stock are arriving and a pile of internet orders I need to get off. I really did have a wonderful evening. Thank you.” She turned, slipped though gate, and up to the front door, leaving Justin standing beside his car, a bemused expression on his face.

Once inside Penny kicked off her shoes and threw her purse onto the kitchen bench. God, she wanted to scream! Who did Justin think he was, talking about her future to Mick? And what about Bryce? Bryce had devastated her, broken her heart. She swore she would never let any man—and certainly not Bryce—do so again.

* * * *

Bryce checked his watch, ten minutes past midnight. He stepped from his car, pulled the hoodie up over his head, and walked up the road. As he rounded the corner everything went black, no street lights, shop lights, nothing. A complete power outage.
Right on time.

He turned down a small lane, paused, scanning for movement. Satisfied nobody lurked in the shadows, he made his way to a steel pedestrian door. Across the top of the entry in large white letters the name
Conundrum Holdings and Imports, Proprietor J. Byrne
stood out in the moonlight. Three locks secured the door, two padlocks, one top and bottom, and a key lock in the centre near the handle. He reached into his pocket and removed a set of tools attached to a key ring, flicked through the tools, and chose one. In seconds, the top padlock lay open on the ground. The bottom padlock followed in close succession.

He changed tools, pulled on the door handle, and jiggled the tool into the lock. The latch released with a soft click. Putting his tools away and scooping up the padlocks, he stepped through the door and pulled it closed behind him. After several deep breaths he brought his heart under control, during which Bryce hadn’t moved. He stood still listening, watching. Nothing indicated he had triggered a silent alarm or been noticed.

Pale moonlight shone through the high set windows of the warehouse, highlighting the large crates stacked three high. Several shipping containers sat side by side at one end of the warehouse. The doors to the middle container were open, displaying the contents. Sticking to the shadows, Bryce moved slowly, methodically toward the open container. He pulled a small digital camera from his pocket, taking pictures as he went. Cartons were strewn across the floor, scattered in a chaotic pattern.

He spent some time working in the quartermaster store while in the army. When a truck was unloaded everything was catalogued and put in its place. Stock was not left lying around unless—
unless somebody was looking for something specific.
He left the containers, slipped back into the shadows, and continued to prowl along the rows of crates.

There, near the office, another padlocked door. After checking to be sure no guard lurked in the vicinity, he padded to the door. In seconds he had the lock open. He stepped through the door pulling it closed behind him. One small window opened out into the warehouse. Six wooden boxes, about four feet long sat against the far wall.

The lid to the closest crate stuck fast as he tried to lift it. The lid to the second came away in his hands. Unable to see in the restricted light, Bryce used his phone to illuminate the contents.

“Got ya.”

He photographed the contents of the box and replaced the lid before trying the lids to the remaining boxes. They were still secured. After taking several photographs of the room, its contents and layout, Bryce slipped out and relocked the door behind him.

Taking pains to remain in the shadows, he made his way back the way he’d come. The door remained closed just as he had left it. He paused and listened for any sounds from the alley. Satisfied he eased through the door, replaced the locks, ensuring they were as he found them, and walked away.

Penny’s right kneepad scraped the asphalt surface of the track. She held her line through the corner as the rear wheel slipped sideward. Her heart hammered as the bike bucked beneath her. She slid her weight back onto the seat and tucked herself behind the faring with her elbows close and rolled open the throttle. The bike launched like a rocket as she accelerated hard down the back straight. The throttle hit the wide open stop. Sweat ran down the side of her face as she peered through the screen. She closed the gap between them until there was less than a foot between her wheel and the rear wheel of the bike in front.

BP Corner came quickly. She waited, poised, watching. The rider in front sat up from behind his screen, and Penny pounced. She pushed down on the right handle bar, and her bike dove into the corner. The handle bars shuddered as she rolled off the throttle, and her bike dropped deeper into the corner. She ducked beneath the bike in front and shot past as they both entered the corner. The rear wheel skipped as she moved off the seat, shifting her weight onto the right foot peg. Her right knee scraped as she guided the bike through the apex of the corner, where she opened the throttle and accelerated aggressively into the short straight.

Penny set herself to enter the next corner. Focusing, she picked the line which would take her though the corner smoothly and quickly and shifted her weight onto the left foot peg. A bike sat just off her right shoulder, paused for a moment, keeping pace with her, and then flashed past and dropped in front of her. The brake light lit up, and the bike slowed quickly, too quickly. Instinctively Penny pushed into the left handlebar and stood on the rear brake. Her bike dipped left, hard. Her left hand shuddered as the front wheel slid.

Without thinking she released the brake. The front wheel gripped the track, and her bike righted itself. They were so close she could reach out to touch the bike in front. The offending motorcycle accelerated away. Three riders took the advantage of her confusion and raced past. She shook her head.
What the hell just happened? Did he pull in front of me on purpose? Who the hell was that?
Black leathers, blue and white writing...
Jack!
Her blood pressure rose, and her temples pounded on the lining inside her helmet.
What in the blazes is he trying to pull?
Nothing he did seemed to make any sense.

She gritted her teeth. “Damn it.” Another rider raced past reminding her to pay attention to her surroundings. She dropped the clutch, the back wheel spun she accelerated hard back onto the track.

* * * *

Being a member of ground crew for the track allowed Bryce free range of the track when racing was going on. He climbed the steps to the commentary box, nodded to the guys and stewards, took a seat, and settled in to watch the racing. He swallowed a mouthful of beer as Jack raced past Penny and braked hard in front of her. Penny took evasive action, just missing taking a hit from the bike behind her. The front end of her bike dipped aggressively and dived left. Several bikes raced past as she fought to regain control.

Now he knew why Jack had been lurking around in the middle of the pack. Jack had been around too long to get caught in the middle of the pack. Until now it didn’t make sense for him to be so far behind the leaders. No reaction came from the commentary team or stewards, not a murmur, comment, or gesture. Bryce watched in silence. Penny worked hard to make up the lost places. Jack disappeared moving quickly through the riders and caught up with the lead pack. Disgusted, he threw his empty can into the bin, opened the door, and stomped downstairs.

“Canadian Club and Dry, Shep,” called Bryce as he reached the bar. Without looking up, Shep reached into the fridge and launched a can in Bryce’s general direction while he finished serving his current customer. “Thanks man.” Bryce opened the can and took a mouthful. “Better than the crap I just saw on the race track.” He handed a twenty dollar note to Shep, who dropped the change into his hand.

“Really! Usually the racing is pretty good in the 600 class.”

“Usually is. I agree. Seems there are some people who have something other than racing on their minds or somewhere else to be. Stay safe. Catch you Friday night.” Bryce turned and walked off.

He grabbed a hotdog and ambled through pit lane. The
Red
Dog
Racing
was putting the final touches on an Indian and a Flathead Harley as they readied themselves for the next race. He loved the Classic Racing Class. No gadgets, no technology to help the riders, just old fashioned skill and know how. The Indian started, and the bike moved past him. The exhaust pulsed, deep throaty and loud as the rider idled up pit lane. Bryce paused and shut his eyes. The sound washed over him as acrid smelling racing fuel filled his nose. He shivered, shook his head, and opened his eyes. Penny stormed toward him.

She moved fast, her anger barely controlled. Her lips were set in a no nonsense expression with the corners of her eyes tightening.

He stepped back as she brushed past hissing, “Get out of my way,” though gritted teeth.

Bryce watched her go past. “Penny.” No response. “Penny!” he called, louder this time.

“What!” She turned, planting her feet wide and placing her hand on her hips. “Well?” Her eyes blazed.

“You’re wasting your time.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

Taking a mouthful of whiskey, Bryce wiped his chin with the back of his hand. “They saw what happened, and none of them cared.”

Penny stepped toward him, menacing. “What do you mean they saw it all and don’t care? How in the hell would you know?”

“I know what I saw. I was sitting in the commentary box watching the race. When Jack pulled in front of you, I looked at the marshals and commentators. Not a word amongst them.”

“What are you saying?” She took several more steps toward him.

“I’m saying if you go and put in a protest, which is where I think you’re heading, you will be wasting your time.”

“Since when did you become such an expert or care about me at all? Oh that’s right, you always run away when things get tough, don’t you.” Penny turned and stormed off in the direction she had been heading, not giving Bryce the chance to respond.

He shook his head as if he had just been belted by a heavyweight champion.
What did she mean, always run away?
He turned and swallowed the last mouthful of his drink and tossed the can into the bin.

“I’ve had enough.” Bryce walked back through pit lane. He’d lost any desire to enjoy the bikes after the encounter with Penny. Ducking between two teams he took a shortcut to the car park. Jack and Justin were standing not too far away, still dressed in their riding leathers, heads bowed together talking. He couldn’t hear what they were saying. Justin pulled something from his leathers and handed it to Jack. They exchanged words for a few more seconds, shook hands, and departed, each heading in a different direction while Jack slipped the small package inside his riding jacket.

* * * *

Penny stormed toward the marshal’s office. Jack’s actions were downright dangerous. Today was the second time he’d caused Penny to take evasive actions or crash. What the hell did Bryce mean when he said, they don’t care? Their job is to care. She slowed as she rounded the corner and stopped. When they were growing up, she had never known Bryce to lie, ever—well not until recently. Justin walked around the corner toward the marshal’s office, turned his head, and said something to the group of people gathered near there.

“Penny!” Justin
changed direction and walked to her, his gait easy and relaxed as he approached. Sweat plastered his sandy hair to his head, adding to his roguish look. The zipper on his leathers was pulled down to his waist. Her hands twitched involuntarily as she glimpsed his tanned well-muscled chest.

“There’s my beautiful girl.” He beamed as he slid his arm around her. “I’ve got to finish packing up. Once we’re done, how about to drink to wind up the day?”

“I’m not packed, either. I was just about to—”

“What say I come and help? My guys can look after my camp, and I’ll help you. We’ll be out of here faster.”

Before Penny realised he had guided her halfway back to the pit area. She stopped and slipped from beneath his arm. “I was heading in to see the marshals. To put in a protest.”

“Protest? Protest, what?” he stepped back. His eyes studied her.

“Well, Jack.” The words sounded weak, even in her own ears.

“Bah. He’s harmless.” He waved off the notion. “A bit of a nutter perhaps, but harmless. Let me help you finish packing, and we’ll have a drink. We can talk more then.” He touched her elbow, guiding her toward her pit area.

“It’s Mum’s birthday today,” Justin continued. “I’m taking her out to dinner tonight. You’re favourite restaurant if you’re interested.”

“What? Sorry. No. I can’t, besides birthdays are a time to cherish with your family.”

“Sorry to hear it. I can’t say the idea of seeing you in the little black number you were wearing the other night isn’t appealing. You looked amazing. I still can’t get the image out of my mind.”

Blood rushed to her face. “Why, thank you.” She paused a moment. “I am free tomorrow, if you are?”

His eyes clouded for a moment then his smile lit up. “What say we go for a ride? It might be fun to pull the old bikes out and take them for a spin up into the mountains. We can leave mid-morning, and I’ll pack a picnic lunch.”

“Sounds fantastic.”

“My place is on the way. Why don’t you swing past around ten-thirty, and we can head out from there?”

“You know what? That’s a much better offer than getting myself wound up talking to those old farts in there.” She jerked her thumb at the marshal’s office.

“Yep. Can’t argue with you there,” Justin replied. “Anyway, I have to get moving and get ready to take Mum out.” He bent and gave her a peck on the cheek. His lips warm and dry caused her to tingle as his musk filled her senses before he walked off with a lazy wave.

Penny bent to pick up a box. “Hey. Didn’t you say…?” It was too late, Justin disappeared around the corner. She looked after him and shook her head.

“Ha, I should have known.”

* * * *

Sunshine beamed in through the window, landing across Penny’s face. She shook the sleep from her head. Her cat, Tim Tam, stretched out beside her, his dark chocolate fur ruffled, with whiskers mashed onto his face, his version of bed hair. She smiled and scratched his exposed tummy. “Time to move, Tim Tam. We have got a lot on today.” He rolled over, opened one eye, and looked at her with disdain. “Suit yourself.” She threw the covers over him.

Penny slid out of bed and headed into the shower. The bathroom steamed up as hot water ran over her. She grabbed a bar of hand-made soap. The soap bubbled, caressing her skin as she washed. She breathed deeply, inhaling the vanilla perfume.

Sighing, she turned off the tap, reached for a towel, and dried herself. She tossed clothes for the day on to the bed, soft black jeans, a long sleeved pale blue t-shirt, and elastic for her hair. Making her way to the kitchen, she flicked some bread into the toaster while she made a cup of coffee.

Sitting at the table she opened the video program on her laptop. The red light blinked furiously at her. “I’m excited about today. Justin and I are going for a ride and picnic somewhere up in the mountains. It’s a beautiful day, and the company is nothing short of gorgeous. Let’s face it, what woman wouldn’t want to spend the afternoon with Justin Byrne riding through the hills to who knows where?” She swallowed the last bite of toast and saved the file.

“Ok, Tim Tam, got to run.” She scratched him between the ears, grabbed her leather jacket, and headed to the garage. On the far side sat her car, a sensible white cabriole suited to the daily needs of life. In the next bay sat a red and black Aprilia RSV4 in full street livery as if ready to pounce. Beside it, an Indian 750 Super Scout and just behind it was her favourite, a dark blue and chrome BSA 650 Royal Star.

She opened the roller door, pushed the BSA off its centre stand and eased the bike out of the garage. The garage door came down behind her. Lifting the bike back onto the stand, she pulled out the fuel tap, tickled the carburettor. Sliding her right leg over the seat, she stood on the foot pegs, and flicked out the kick start lever. Using all of her body weight she drove her right foot down hard. The engine coughed. She rolled the throttle open and then settled into a purr. Penny smiled, reached for her helmet and gloves.

The sun shone, and a light breeze blew making the day a beautiful one for riding. She pulled up on the street in front of Justin’s house and killed the engine. After removing her helmet and gloves she glanced in the rear view mirror. Arggh, helmet hair. Oh well not much point worrying as the helmet will be back on shortly. She went to the door, knocked and waited. No answer. She waited for a few moments and knocked again. Nothing. No noise at all came from inside the house. She grasped the door handle, twisted it, and the door swung open.

She peered through the doorway. “Justin?” No response. She took two steps though the door, paused, her eyes adjusted to the dimmed light. “Justin?” She walked quietly though the hall, her boots echoed on the grey pink slate tiles. Several pictures of Justin celebrating winning adorned the wall above an impressive cabinet full of trophies. The short hall opened out onto a large lounge-dining room. Timber cabinets topped with black marble surrounded the walls making up the kitchen. An open wine bottle and two wine glasses sat atop the counter, one marked with deep burgundy lip smears. Her stomach dropped with dread. Blood pounded in her head with each heartbeat, while she wrestled, trying to decide what to do next.