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“But the polizei saw the video, and they still say it’s a heart attack,” Rory pointed out.
“For now. Who knows what the autopsy will turn up?” Not to mention Greer’s insurance review.
Jordana cocked her head. “I thought they finished that this morning and said it was a heart attack.”
“They did,” Dalton agreed, “but Greer said they were doing further tests. God knows what they’ll find. Between that and the wing, well, I just want to be as prepared as possible.”
“So that’s it?” Jordana asked. “That’s the team for this year?”
Dalton grunted. He knew Jordana wanted to race, but he wasn’t sure they could afford it. No, he was sure they couldn’t afford it. None of this made him feel any better. He needed money. They were desperate for cash. If Greer hadn’t come along with the policy, they would have been dead in the water. He hated that she could be the one to save their asses. And if little miss sunshine and roses didn’t give them the money, they were screwed. That was what Greer smelled like to him. Sunshine and some kind of flower. When he’d caught a hint of the indelible scent last night at the bar, memories had almost crippled him.
Greer's green eyes had haunted him for years. They exuded intelligence and spirit in their depths. She had a competitive streak that was downright sexy. Just how that played out in the insurance investigation world, he had no idea, but his gut said it wasn’t going to work in his favor.
Dalton avoided Jordana’s question. “We’re telling the world that Greer’s here to investigate for the insurance company. The cause of death is officially a heart attack. Any thought that something else might have caused Moore’s death is totally wrong. That’s the message we have to send out.”
“But what about investigating? We can’t let a murderer go free,” she countered.
“I know,” Dalton agreed.
“I still think the cops are the best idea,” Rory stated as he crossed his arms over his chest.
Dalton shook his head. “I’m going to continue to poke around.” He held up his hands to ward off the arguments he knew were coming. “I will be very careful.”
”Fine,” Rory growled. “But if anything happens to you, I’m going to kill you myself.”
Dalton nodded. “I hear you, Rory. I’ll be extra careful.” He’d play along for now, but he wasn’t giving up. He felt as unbalanced as if he was driving with a flat. If Greer saw the video, she wouldn’t pay. The racing professional in her would recognize the vibration in the wing, and that certainly didn’t play in his favor. With luck, she’d listen to the rumors and gossip and recognize them for what they were. Either way, it was too late to worry about it now. He had other fish to fry. “Rory, do me a favor and see what Hank knows about this Bianchi guy. Find out if Bianchi knows yet that he’s inherited part of the team.”
“I’ll try.”
“Call the other lawyer, Otto, and ask him. He should be able to tell you,” Jordana said.
Rory nodded and went over to the corner to make the call.
His sister was studying him. “What are you going to do?”
He shrugged. “I’m going to do what I normally do and keep the drivers and the team going. What else can I do?”
“Maybe Greer can help with the investigation. She is an investigator.”
Was she serious? In an ideal world, Jordana would be as far away from all this as possible. “I’m going to poke around, as you say, but I don’t want you anywhere near this. If this blows up in our faces, I want you and Rory to be able to walk away unscathed.”
Dalton squeezed his sister’s shoulder as he left the trailer. He walked over to the garage where Greer was still talking to Felix Weber, the guy who took care of the tires and drove one of the trailers to all the races. Why she’d want to talk to Felix was beyond him, but he supposed she had to speak to everyone.
He sauntered up to Mario and spoke in a quiet voice, “Tell everyone the woman, Greer Styger, is an insurance investigator. They need to answer her questions but ask them to tell me about anything that worries them.”
Mario nodded. “Will do.”
Dalton walked over to the coffee station. “Hey, Kendra, how’s it going?”
“Great,” she said with a smile. “Today is going to be a better day.”
He nodded. It could hardly be worse. “Hope the rain holds off.”
“You are hoping in vain, my friend,” Jack Roundtree quipped as he entered the garage along with his brother-in-law, Clyde. They were both wearing their fire suits but with the top half tied around their waists.
He nodded to the two of them.
“I wanted to offer my condolences for yesterday,” Clyde said. “That was a tough one.”
