The Big Cat Nap

shrewdly observed. “Groupies.”
    “The groupies are there, not quite to the level of rock stars. The funny thing is, a fair number of the big guys come from backgrounds where women are placed on a pedestal. They might go to bed with groupies, but sooner or later they want a real partner. The secret always is to look at a man’s mother.”
    “Isn’t that the truth?” BoomBoom thought of her late husband,who, she felt, probably suffered whippings from his mama into his early forties. Kelly Craycroft, some years older than BoomBoom, never had quite enough backbone for her. After his death, a string of paramours filled her life. She finally woke up realizing that all that activity kept her from facing his death and her own inner pitfalls, as well.
    Harry, on the other hand, observed closely but rarely had a clue as to the emotional underpinnings of human behavior.
    “Speaking of rock stars, where’s your entourage?” Victor teased Harry.
    “Home. The fumes and noise would upset them. It’s even pretty overwhelming for us.”
    Latigo, in a pleasant manner, said, “Bobby Foltz, Victor.”
    “Ah.” Victor shifted his attention to the track, where Bobby drove up to the starting line. “One of my boys, Bobby Foltz.”
    Both Harry and BoomBoom kept quiet as they watched Bobby’s four-year-old Dodge Charger line up next to a really souped-up new Charger. They could see the helmets on the drivers, which obscured their features.
    The green light flashed; the speed of the acceleration was stunning.
    “Oh, my God,” Harry blurted out. “They need parachutes to stop.”
    Bobby won the heat.
    “Parachutes are used for cars exceeding a hundred fifty miles per hour. This class is close but no cigar.” Beaming, Victor stood up. “Excuse me, ladies.”
    Latigo remained behind. “Vic gives his men full support. He’s a wise boss. Then again, he loves drag racing.”
    “Was Nick Ashby any good?”
    Latigo replied, a bit sadly, “Yes, and he was a good kid, too. This has hit Vic very hard. Hit all of them hard. They all race and work together. A close-knit group.”
    “Even Walt Richardson?”
    Latigo half-laughed. “Harry, you’re impossible.”
    She sheepishly grinned. “I can’t help myself. I get to wondering, you know.”
    “I could put some masking tape over her mouth.” BoomBoom pretended to look in her Pierre Deux cloth bag for tape.
    Latigo enjoyed BoomBoom’s teasing. “Harry, Walt marched to a different drum. Now and then he’d come out to the track. He worked on the other guys’ cars, but he didn’t race. Actually, Walt was more interested in classic cars.”
    Harry wanted to say, “I know.” Wisely, she kept her mouth shut.
    “They haven’t made any progress yet, I don’t think—on the murders, I mean,” BoomBoom said.
    “I thought it would hurt Vic’s business, but it hasn’t. Of course, his shop is the one we always recommend to our clients who’ve had accidents. No one does such good work so reasonably.”
    “ReNu does seem to do the work for less.” BoomBoom just made conversation as she focused on the next race. She was really getting into this.
    Harry was, too, but Harry could get sidetracked. “So the murders didn’t hurt Victor’s business?”
    “No. Vic encouraged the fellows to keep racing in Nick’s memory. He made a contribution to the Classic Car Club of Virginia in Walt’s name. He’s keeping up morale.”
    Fanning faster as a result of both the heat and the fumes, BoomBoom asked, “Latigo, why didn’t you found a life-insurance company? Why auto?”
    Flattered to be questioned about his life choices, Latigo replied in his light but pleasing voice, “Death, really. When I started Safe and Sound, the company was painfully small—myself and three others, one of whom was my first wife. I didn’t want to call on people when someone passed away, and neither did Nola.” He named his first wife, who left the marriage far richer than she entered it.
    Latigo always gave Nola credit for helping build the business, and he didn’t shy away from the fact that he indulged in one affair too many. Nola had wearied of it, wisely refraining from retaliatory affairs of her own. She waited until after the divorce. Nola was nobody’s fool.
    Harry piped up. “Don’t you have to call on people if the car was turned into an accordion and the driver squashed to death, too?”
    “We do, but usually it’s after the worst is over. By that I mean the life-insurance