Sugar on Top by Marina Adair Read Free Book Online Page B

ourselves the Pit Crew Mafia.”
    An overwhelming sense of panic blew through Glory at the thought of her grandma racing again. “Is that safe? You haven’t raced since Billy was in high school.” Since she’d taken a debilitating fall off a ladder during harvest and broken her back. That had been thirty-five years and three wheelchairs ago.
    “Then I’m long overdue to defend my title,” she explained.
    “Against men half your age?”
    “The first time I raced, I was sixteen and steamrolled over men twice my age. Still managed to win with a one point six second lead. I can do it again.”
    “A lot’s changed since then.” Like automatic transitions, disc breaks, and YouTube. Now every redneck who owned a computer knew how to make a turbo injector with dental floss, tinfoil, and a nine-volt battery.
    “Which is a shame because the Sugar Pull used to be about celebrating this town and the men and woman whose backs it was built on. Your Granddaddy Mann was one of the first farmers to plant sugar peaches, and his daddy was one of the first peach farmers in this whole area. So when I see Ms. Kitty importing drivers from NASCAR and flashing around her high-priced fuel pumps, it goes against everything the Harvest Fest is about.”
    In Georgia, harvest season brought out hundreds of thousands of peach-loving visitors and their spending bucks. In Sugar, harvest season brought about the annual Harvest Fest—a weekend-long festival to celebrate the fruit that was the heart of their community—peaches. It was a time for friends and family to gather, and for the community to pull together and pay tribute to those who had come before. It was also where Jelly Lou met and fell in love with Ned Mann.
    “Have you tried talking to Peg?”
    “She wanted proof before she took it to the Harvest Council.” Peg Brass was the current harvest commissioner, and therefore the final word on all things peach related—including the Miss Peach Pageant and the Sugar Pull. “We had the proof but you took it back before Peg could get a look under Kitty’s hood.”
    “Which is the only reason you and the blue-haired brigade aren’t sitting in Judge Holden’s courtroom.” Or worse, jail.
    “Pit Crew Mafia,” Jelly Lou corrected, then went serious. “That Kitty isn’t throwing a stink, is she? Using her power and influence to make trouble?”
    “You stole a decorated town treasure.” Glory thought of Jackson and her night in jail and shivered. “So, sure, she called the sheriff and reported the tractor stolen. You would have done the same.”
    “Stolen?” she mumbled. “What a crock. Go get me my best dress. I don’t want to be looking all down and out when the sheriff arrives to take my statement.”
    Glory cleared her throat. “He isn’t coming.”
    “Probably because he knows that his grandma’s a cheat and making a big deal about this would look bad on his family.” Glory remained silent and she saw the understanding dawn on the older woman’s face. “He isn’t coming because I wasn’t driving the tractor, you were.” Glory looked out the window. “Oh, Glo, I’m so sorry. I won’t forgive myself if this causes you any trouble.”
    “It won’t,” she said softly, while reminding herself that Judge Holden was a fair man. Cal had told her so.
    “Well, if it does, you be sure and let me know so I can invite Little Jackie over for dinner and set him straight. You weren’t a part of this and I don’t want anyone saying differently.”
    She was already a part of this, from the second she started up that tractor. And having Little Jackie over for dinner wasn’t going to solve anything. Neither was telling Jelly Lou the entire story, so she settled on the highlights.
    “There was a little misunderstanding, but Jackson made sure the Prowler got home safely and then he”— cuffed, booked, and left me in a cold cell all night —“gave me a lift to the station and Cal dove me home.” She stretched her neck