“What’s all the scratches and digs in the floor and woodwork in this room?” asked the curious detective. “This room smells like dog shit.”�...Yeah, it does. We’re working on that,” I admitted as I pointed to several boxes of baking soda sitting around the room, as well as air fresheners and a bottle of Fabreze.“The previous owners wouldn’t allow us to see this room when we looked at the house to buy a few months ago. They kept the door locked, but we could hear the growling and barking of a couple. “Yeah, racing is in my blood. It’s who I am. There’s no way I’m ever giving it up.”“You’re crazy, man.”“Well, hit me up if you change your mind,” he says.---After I got back to the dorm, I spent the rest of the afternoon searching online for any and all cars for sale. Nothing out there would even come close to touching mine or Ez’s car.Maybe I should go see her. I mean, I don’t intend to end up in her bed or anything. Maybe her crew could use another driver.“Hey, Clint,” I shout out.“What up. More

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