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The air left Dalton’s lungs in a whoosh. It was like he’d been holding his breath since the accident, and now his lungs could finally work. He’d been wrong. The wing couldn’t have been oscillating. Moore had been wrong. There had been nothing wrong with the car. Probably just the tires had gone off. He lost control and then hit the curb. Maybe that was what caused his heart attack.
“I… That’s…” He didn’t really know what to say.
“You are surprised,” Detective Haas noted.
“I… When I saw the car burst into flames, I guess I assumed that’s what killed him. It’s a horrible way to go. A heart attack just seems…better somehow.” The wing was moot if he’d had a heart attack. Maybe. If Mario confirmed there wasn’t a real problem with the wing, then maybe Dalton could let it go.
“Mr. Moore is still dead but yes, I agree, dying of a heart attack seems less horrific than dying in a fire.” Detective Haas glanced at Moser. “I think that’s it for the moment. If I have more questions, I will contact you.” He stood, as did Officer Moser.
Dalton got slowly to his feet. It suddenly clicked into place. “That’s why you wanted to know if Moore was angry.”
Detective Haas gave him a tiny nod. “Thank you for your time,” was all he said, and then he and Officer Moser left the trailer.
Dalton’s knees almost gave out and he sat down hard on the chair. Relief coursed through him. He’d been wrong. It had been a freak accident. Moore had a heart attack, and that’s what had killed him. Probably what caused the accident, too. This was good news. Not for Moore. Dalton rubbed his face with both hands. He hadn’t liked the man, but he didn’t want to see him dead. It was a tragedy. Thankfully, though, it wasn’t one that he or his team had caused. He’d known that, but he’d been worried that other people would jump to conclusions. Claasen had not been wrong. People would assume Hughes Racing had made an error and a driver died. It would’ve finished them.
He just needed to get the word out that Moore had had a heart attack. Then he could find another driver to fill the seat for the season. And Moore’s family couldn’t sue.
Dalton stood on shaky legs. He felt horrible he had to think in these terms, but the reality was that his company was hanging on by a thread, and Moore’s death could’ve taken them down. Now, at least, they still had a fighting chance. He had started walking toward the door as Mario walked in, holding his laptop.
“The polizei want to talk to me next, but Haas said he had to make a quick call first,” he said as he set the laptop on the table.
“It’s okay,” Dalton said. “I was wrong. Moore?—”
Mario shook his head. “No, you were right. There was something on the video.”
“But Detective Haas said—” The look on Mario’s face made his shoulders tense. He sat back down, and Mario brought the laptop over in front of him and hit play. It was the last lap going into turn one from Dalton’s car camera.
He watched in horror as what he’d seen that morning played out in front of him again. He hadn’t been wrong. The wing was oscillating. The car was losing downforce. There was no way Moore could control it at that speed with no downforce. Nothing would hold the tires on the track. Moore’s car swerved and hit the curbing, and then bounced into the wall. After the third roll, it came to a stop on its hood and a split second later, burst into flames.
“The wing,” Mario said. “I’ve never seen one do that.”
“That’s because it’s not supposed to happen. Not ever.” Dalton wanted to puke. He’d known the truth all along, but he wanted so badly to believe Detective Haas: A heart attack had killed Moore.
“Detective Haas said that Moore had a heart attack. Or, at least, that’s what they think killed him. He didn’t burn up in the fire.” Dalton rubbed his face again. “I was hoping that was true because that put us in the clear.”
Mario stared at him. “You don’t think we did this, do you? James screwed up somehow?”
“No, I don’t. James is a great mechanic. He wouldn’t miss something like this, not in a hundred years. Not on his worst day. Plus, Gus would’ve been around and noticed something like this. This wasn’t us.”
“So… you think someone did this on purpose?” Mario asked, disbelief dripping from every word.
Dalton nodded. “It’s the only way it could’ve happened.” He rewound the video and started it again from the point on the straightaway before Moore got to the curve. The wing was clearly oscillating. He paused the video. “James would have noticed the give in the wing when he closed the engine cover. He would have felt it if the screws were loose. Moore wouldn’t have been able to make it around the track even once if the wing was like this when he left the garage.”
“But then what happened?”
Dalton shrugged. He wasn’t about to share his thinking with anyone, not just yet. It gave everyone plausible deniability until he figured out what the hell he was going to do.
Mario frowned. “You think someone wanted Moore dead? Seriously? I just can’t imagine.”
“I know,” Dalton agreed.
Mario shook his head. “No, it was a freak accident. There was no way to predict where he would crash or if he would die. Very rarely do cars catch on fire. No one could time it like that.”
Mario was right.
Dalton repeated, “Someone wanted him to have an accident.” He tried to make sense of that in his head, but he just couldn’t get his brain around it. “But if that was the case, why? What could they possibly gain from that? If he wrecked the car, we would’ve given him one of the instructor’s cars. At most, he might have missed one practice session. It makes no sense.”
Mario leaned his butt on the table. “I can’t figure it out, either. Maybe whoever it was didn’t know we’d give him another car?”
