Conflict

Part 3, Chapter 4

"What do you mean he's missing?!"

"What do you think I mean? It's all that's been on the news all mornin'."

Strip drove over and flipped the television on again to prove his point. The news channels were absolutely eating the story up.

Izzy stopped pacing the length of her brother's living room and turned to stare at the flat screen. Her eyes widened as the news anchors reiterated time and time again that no one had a clue where the rookie had gone.

"How do you lose track of a racer?" she asked. "Especially one that high profile?"

The Daytona had been staying at the Weathers residence for a few days, trying to make sense of the situation Strip encountered at the 400, but during that time they'd paid little attention to the outside world. Izzy had gone out for a morning drive a few hours earlier, and in her absence, Strip absentmindedly flipped the television on for the first time in a couple days. What followed was near mayhem.

"We gotta go look for him." Izzy rambled. "We can't just sit here and speculate and wait for something to happen, we need to move and –"

"Iz, stop," Strip cut her off sternly. "Now is not the time to panic."

"Now is the perfect time to panic!" Izzy squeaked. "What about this doesn't say panic to you?!"

Strip glanced past his sister into the kitchen and made brief eye contact with Lynda. She was idly preoccupying herself while he dealt with Izzy's panic attack. He couldn't quite tell if the worry in her expression was directed toward the situation in question or the fact that he had to put up with Izzy's obduracy. Maybe it was a little of both.

"We're supposed to be protecting this kid and he just disappears," Izzy reemphasized. "And like two days after you find out he's in the line of fire! He's probably lying dead in a ditch outside of St. Louis, for all we know."

"That's way too far north."

"Not my point, Strip!" Izzy snapped, her raspy voice louder than ever. "How can you sit there so calmly?"

"Izzy, just stop. Stop for one second," he ordered her, scowling. "Don't raise your voice at me. You just need to calm down and listen. Find somethin' and focus on it. Try to relax."

Izzy glowered at him, but kept her mouth shut. Strip watched her and waited until her rate of breathing slowed. Ever since their last battle together, she'd gained a tendency to overreact to little things. This, however, was no little thing, and the sudden news opened up a multitude of old wounds she'd been suppressing.

"Right, so here are the facts," Strip began in a calm, even tone. "One, the kid's gone missin'. Two, Ford's out to get him, and Hicks has a deadline he has to meet. Three, McQueen had a solid hour's head start, and it looks like that hauler didn't stop until he got to the track. Four, Chick didn't show up in L.A. until today. There's no way the two could have crossed paths. Call me crazy, but I'm not so sure his disappearance is related."

"Okay," Izzy said quietly, never breaking eye contact. "But what are the chances? What if it is related? What if Stephen set something else up?"

"The timing still doesn't make sense," Strip explained. "There's no way a car of that age and model could catch up in time. And again, it didn't sound like he's gonna intervene directly in anythin' until after the race."

"What if there's something we don't know about?" she asked. "We could be caught unaware."

"Well, if that's the case, what are we gonna do about it?" he asked in return. "We can't just go flyin' blind into this, Iz. There's over twenty-five hundred miles between here and the west coast. Tryin' to find the kid in that much unknown's worse than findin' a needle in a haystack. We don't stand a chance if we try that."