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CHAPTER FOURTEEN
A sharp knock on the door interrupted them. Dalton walked over to the door and pulled it open to admit his little sister. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Jordana said as she walked in and went over to the couch. She sat down next to Rory and put her head on his shoulder. “Rough day?” she asked him.
“Yeah. I hear yours wasn’t so great either,” he said.
Dalton opened the mini-bar and pulled out a can of soda. He wanted a stiffer drink, but he wouldn’t do that in front of Rory. His brother would say it was fine, and it probably was, but Rory didn’t need any temptation. “You guys want anything?”
“No, thanks,” Rory said.
Jordana sighed. “Nah, I’m going to have some tea in my room in a bit.”
As he walked back to the seating area, Dalton’s chest tightened. He envied Rory and Jordana’s closeness. Dalton was the oldest and Jordana was the youngest. Rory was smack in the middle but he and Jordana had always been close. Dalton had tried, but he could never seem to master whatever it was that made Jordana so relaxed around Rory. She’d never put her head on Dalton’s shoulder. He admired his little sister more than she knew. She was, in fact, the one that he was most proud of. She was more like their mom. Had their mother’s strength and sunny disposition. Jordana was an all-around good person. At least that made one of them in the family.
“Dalton just told me he thinks Dennis Moore was murdered.”
Jordana’s green eyes got big. “You didn’t tell me that.”
“Didn’t have a chance,” Dalton said as he sat back down and took a swig of soda.
“Fill me in,” she requested.
“The long and the short of it is the polizei think he had a heart attack, and that’s what caused his accident. He didn’t die as a result of the fire. As a matter of fact, the marshals had that out pretty quickly.”
“But you don’t think that’s what happened,” Jordana prodded.
“No. I was behind him. We were running the last lap of the first practice session,” he added for Rory, who was clueless about the whole event. “I saw his wing flex. It was oscillating. He had a total loss of downforce as he came up the hill into turn one. He lost control, hit the curbing, bounced off, hit the wall, and rolled the car. It burst into flames.”
“But the wings don’t flex, like ever,” Jordana pointed out.
“Exactly.”
“Are you sure?” Rory asked.
Dalton nodded. “Yeah. I thought I saw it moving, but wasn’t sure, and then Moore said there was something wrong with the car. I was telling him to slow down when he lost control. I went back and watched the video. The wing was definitely moving.”
“Shit,” Rory breathed.
Jordana sat up straighter. “And…what? Do you think one of our guys screwed up?”
“No, but I’m afraid we’ll get blamed. There’s no way James wouldn’t have noticed if the wing was loose. He would have felt it flex in his hands while opening and closing the engine cover when he was making adjustments to the setup. I don’t think it was loose in the garage.” He paused. Saying it out loud would make it real but it was something that he knew in his gut. He took a deep breath. “I think someone loosened it. Maybe gave the screws a half turn, and then let nature take its course.”
The room was silent as his siblings stared at him. Rory let out a low whistle. “The vibration…. That’s what you mean, isn’t it?” Rory asked. “You think someone turned the screws just enough to loosen them slightly and then with all the driving on the track and hitting the curbs and riding rough, the screws loosened over time until the wing started oscillating.”
“Yes, that’s what I think,” Dalton agreed. “But the problem is why? So he lost downforce. The accident and fire were a fluke. He might have noticed and pulled off, or he might have crashed but, what would that outcome bring anyone? We would’ve given him one of the coaches’ cars. It’s not like he would miss the race. There was no way to predict the accident would kill him. No one has died in racing in years. So what was the end game? Was it murder or was the intention something else?”
“And you’re sure it couldn’t have been James? Maybe he just didn’t notice that the screws were loose?” Rory asked.
“He didn’t notice the screws were loose, obviously, but what caused them to be loose? It wasn’t just one screw. It had to be all of them. That means someone had to do it on purpose. No way did they all suddenly come loose. No way in hell.”
Rory stared at the wall. “You’re right. There’s no logic to it. It had to be someone interfering with the car. But why?”
“I know. It’s baffling. And what’s worse, it might cost us the team. We need to fill Moore’s seat to survive, and if rumors start running rampant that we killed him through negligence, then we’re dead in the water. His wife and son have already threatened to sue.” Dalton took another swig of soda and again wished for something much stronger. He set the can aside and continued, “I have to tell you I spoke to a lot of people today and told them it was a heart attack, but I asked lots of questions and maybe...”
“Maybe what?” Jordana asked.
Dalton shrugged. “Maybe I struck a nerve.”
