Then she called him names. Granted, not real bad names but the intent was there. And now he was offering her a job? He had to be a serial killer or on... of those weirdo sado masochist guys or whatever they called them. Susan had told him how much of a screw up she was and she still didn't understand why she did that. And he was still offering her a job? There had to be a catch. She didn't know what it was but there had to be one and she would find it.Bill thought about her questions for a moment. But it kept him occupied until they made a turn next to a sign that said, "Hamilton Farms Raceway, Private." Hamilton slowed enough to wave at a security officer housed in a tiny building in the middle of the drive."You own your own racetrack?" Maddie asked."Well," said Hamilton, "officially, I'm only one of the members, but my family owns the property and we lease it to the club. My father is fond of saying that we could make more money putting the land in soybeans or corn. I guess that's why. More

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