Chapter 5: The Interview From Hell

The morning of the season opener media day, Evelyn woke up to three things.

A coffee from the hotel lobby that she had not ordered, left outside her door with a note that said only, you looked like you needed this last night, unsigned. A voicemail from her father that she did not listen to. And an email from Lucas Thorn's PR team inviting her to an exclusive pre-season breakfast interview.

She stood in her hotel doorway in her socks holding the coffee and tried to figure out which of those three things was the most alarming.

She drank the coffee. Called Mia.

"Lucas Thorn is inviting me to breakfast," she said.

"Why does that feel like the beginning of something terrible," Mia said.

"Because it is. I found a sponsorship transfer record last night that connects his organization to the Blackthorne story timeline in a way that is not comfortable for him. There is no version of this invitation that is not about finding out what I know."

"Then don't go."

"I have to go. If I decline he knows I'm onto something. If I go I can watch him and control what I give away." She paused. "Also Ryder Blackthorne brought me coffee at some point between midnight and seven AM and I cannot figure out what to do with that information."

Silence.

"I'm sorry," Mia said. "Ryder Blackthorne. The man who told you to get out of his paddock."

"Yes."

"Left you coffee."

"Apparently."

"Evelyn."

"I know."

"You are in the middle of something enormous."

"I know, Mia."

She went to the breakfast.

Lucas Thorn's hospitality suite was at the top of the circuit's executive tower, with floor-to-ceiling glass overlooking the main straight. Everything in the room was deliberate. The table arrangement. The lighting. The way Lucas himself was positioned facing the door when she arrived, so she walked in and immediately felt observed.

He stood. Extended a hand. His smile was the kind that required practice.

"Miss Hart. Thank you for coming."

She shook his hand and sat down. Set her recorder on the table. "Thank you for the invitation."

His eyes tracked the recorder. Something moved through them that was not quite visible. "Of course. I try to make time for serious journalism." He signaled to a staff member, who poured coffee with a precision that felt almost unsettling. "I wanted to meet you personally. Your father's work was very significant to this league."

There it was. First sentence, directly into her father.

"My father is retired," she said. "I'm here on my own assignment."

"Of course." He smiled. "Though I imagine covering the Blackthorne team must be complicated for you. Given the history."

"I'm a journalist. I cover what I'm assigned."

"And what angle are you pursuing this season?"

She looked at him directly. "Championship coverage. Driver profiles. Technical analysis." She paused a half beat. "The usual."

His hands were still on the table. She was watching them again. "Nothing more investigative?"

"Should there be?"

The smile stayed perfectly in place. "Not at all. I just know your father had a taste for deeper stories. I wondered if it ran in the family."

She held his gaze. "My father and I are not the same journalist."

"No." He tilted his head slightly. "I suppose you're right."

For the next twenty minutes they talked about the season. Race predictions. Team performance. Lucas said all the right things and revealed absolutely nothing. He was practiced in a way that made her skin cold. Every answer landed without leaving a mark.

She was wrapping up when the door behind her opened.

She did not need to turn around. She knew from the way Lucas's expression shifted by exactly two degrees.

"Blackthorne," Lucas said. "I didn't realize you were in the tower today."

Ryder's voice came from directly behind her. "I had a meeting with the league director. Ended early."

His tone was completely flat. The kind of flat that required effort to maintain.

She turned. He stood in the doorway in race prep clothes, looking at Lucas Thorn with an expression that could have started a war. His eyes moved to her once, a single sweep that checked her over in a way that was not entirely professional, then back to Lucas.

"I didn't know you were entertaining," Ryder said.

"Miss Hart was kind enough to join me for breakfast." Lucas spread his hands. "Perhaps you'd like to join us?"

"No." Ryder looked at Evelyn. "We have a pre-session technical briefing in twenty minutes. All media liaisons are expected."

She did not have a pre-session technical briefing. She knew that. He knew that she knew that.

She picked up her recorder, capped her pen, and stood. "Thank you for the conversation, Mr. Thorn. I'll follow up if I need anything further."

Lucas stood as well, the perfect host. "My door is always open."

She walked out. Ryder was two steps behind her.

They made it to the elevator before he spoke.

"What did he want to know?" His voice was low and tight.

"Whether I'm investigating anything beyond feature coverage."

"What did you tell him?"

"Nothing." She looked up at him. "What I know is not his to access."

The elevator arrived. They stepped in. The doors closed.

In the small space, with three floors to descend, she became very aware of how close he was standing. He was looking at the doors. A muscle in his jaw was working.

"You shouldn't meet with him alone," he said.

"I can take care of myself."

"That's not what I said."

She turned to look at him. "Why do you care?"

He did not answer.

The elevator reached the ground floor. The doors opened. He stepped out first, turned back, held the door.

"Because Lucas Thorn is not what he shows you at breakfast," Ryder said. "And if you keep pulling on the thread you found last night, you are going to make yourself a target."

The doors started to close. He let them.

She stood in the lobby and heard his footsteps move away across the marble floor.

Her phone buzzed.

Unknown number. One text.

Stop digging, Miss Hart. Your father didn't listen either.