SOPHIE KNEW Matthew was hiding something the moment he stopped answering her questions directly.
The realization arrived somewhere between his third vague response and his fourth attempt to change the subject.
They were standing inside Moore Customs late Friday afternoon while rain tapped lightly against the garage roof. Several mechanics worked in the background, but Sophie barely noticed them.
Her entire attention remained fixed on Matthew. “Where are you going tonight?”
Matthew looked up from the motorcycle he had been working on. “Out.”
Sophie folded her arms. “That's not an answer.”
“It technically is.”
“Matthew.”
Matthew set down his wrench. The movement immediately made her suspicious. Whenever he stopped working voluntarily, it usually meant trouble.
“There's another race
