Braking Points by Tammy Kaehler Read Free Book Online

he was my biggest fan, and apologies again for interrupting us. Tom and I sat down at the picnic table, and I put my head in my hands.
    â€œThat was weird,” Tom said.
    I laughed, quick huffs of breath that became gasps as I started crying again. I got myself under control quickly this time. “Will this day ever end?”
    â€œAnd here’s the real cavalry—I mean, the media.” Tom pointed to a van disgorging camera crew and reporters on the main street in front of the Tavern.
    â€œI can’t face that now, Tom. Can’t do it.”
    â€œIt might be easier now than—” he saw my face. “Later. No worries.”
    â€œThanks.”
    â€œWhat’s your schedule tomorrow?”
    I had to concentrate. “I have brunch with—a distant relation.” The meal and meeting was with my father, but Tom didn’t know the full story and I didn’t feel like explaining I had met my father, James Hightower Reilly III, for the first time two years ago and had only been willing to talk with him for more than a minute during the past six months. Brunch the next day was a milestone in our relationship. I didn’t feel equal to the task, but I’d rescheduled twice already and I couldn’t do so again.
    I went on. “The cops told me to check in before leaving town. Holly and I are driving to her place in Nashville for a couple days before heading to Atlanta.”
    â€œCan we talk tomorrow? I’m driving home then also, but it might be good to have a statement ready about this. I can write it up for you tonight.” As the media, PR, and computer guy for Sandham Swift Racing, Tom didn’t specifically work for me, but he’d send out any releases I needed.
    â€œI’ll call you after I check in with the police. At this rate, I’ll be lucky to get out of here by next weekend.”
    I looked up and saw Stuart headed my way, past reporters surging toward him and shouting questions.
    Tom looked from me to Stuart to the reporters. “I’ll head them off so you guys can get out of here. Call me in the morning.”
    â€œI owe you one.”
    As Stuart reached me, I grabbed his hand. “Let’s go, Tom will buy us time.” We made it to my room on the first floor of the Inn overlooking the pool, and I broke down. He held me for many hours while I grieved.

Chapter Seven
    I went for a short, easy run the next morning to loosen stiff muscles from the accident and to clear my head, which felt achy and thick from my crying bout the night before. I was still sad, but the jog through town and around the lake buoyed my spirits. Until I checked my e-mail.
    The account I used for correspondence with the public, fed by a contact form on my website, had 897 unread messages. I assumed the number was due to spam, until I read subject lines and opened messages at random to find them full of vitriol about wrecking Miles and insulting his fans. One called me “lesbian devil-spawn,” and another, a “NASCAR-hating Nazi.” I stopped reading, sick to my stomach.
    In the account I used for personal correspondence I found an e-mail from Tom telling me the police questioned everyone at the Tavern the night before, collected every container of food or drink from four different tables, and took copies of digital photos from any phone or camera they could find. Tom attached the photos he’d taken of Juliana, Ellie, and me, but I couldn’t face opening them.
    Another e-mail from Tom contained a press release about Ellie, and I responded by thanking him, but asking him to hold it, since the media hadn’t mentioned me yet in that story. I also sent a note to Holly explaining what happened the night before and how Ellie’s death, plus my needing to talk to the police, might affect our plan to hit the road that afternoon.
    I left my hotel room to meet my father for our first meal together, hoping I was done with surprises for the day.