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“Who was the mechanic?” she asked.
“James Macht.”
She seemed to relax slightly. “Did you talk to him? It’s obvious there was a problem with the wing.” No one said anything. She continued. “It definitely added to the situation and may have caused the crash.” She met Dalton’s gaze.
“Moore lost control of the car and crashed. Somewhere in there he had a heart attack. No one can prove exactly when that happened. Maybe the wing had an effect or maybe he was already having a heart attack when he went into the corner.” He drew a deep breath. “All we know for sure is that Dennis Moore had a heart attack. That was not caused by a wing issue.”
He had said everything in an even tone, trying to mask the horror that he was even arguing about this. What she said was true but he couldn’t fault his team. Every single person affiliated with Hughes Racing was safety conscious. His knuckles were white on the back of the chair, which seemed like the only thing holding him upright at the moment. He wanted to puke. Instead, he just held Greer’s gaze, clamping his teeth together and gripping the chair for dear life.
She swallowed. “That’s what you were so worried about; the wing.”
He said nothing. There was nothing to say.
“Do you think James screwed up?”
Dalton shook his head. “No. He would’ve noticed the wing was loose when he closed the engine cover. I don’t think he screwed up. I think there was no way he could have known the wing was loose because it wasn’t. I think someone turned all six screws along the wing a tiny bit before Moore went out, and as he drove, the vibration loosened them more and more until he crashed.”
Greer glanced at Jordana and then back at Dalton. She sat down hard in a chair. “You think someone did this on purpose? You think Moore was murdered?”
Dalton stared at her. It was a wild conclusion to jump to, but he had no other explanation. His team was beyond reproach. This had to be someone else’s tampering. He finally nodded. “Yes, I do. I just… I can’t figure out why or if it was done on purpose.”
“The murder?” Greer frowned. “I’m not following.”
Jordana cleared her throat. “Dalton means, did they just want Moore to crash for some reason, but he ended up having a heart attack and dying by coincidence? Or is there more to it and they really wanted him dead?”
Dalton tried to think once more of how anyone could guarantee Moore would die from this, and he came up empty. “It just doesn’t add up.”
“No, it doesn’t, “Greer agreed, “but I see why you didn’t want to tell me. The wing is a mitigating circumstance. My company won’t pay.”
Dalton glared at her. “Why am I not surprised? That’s it then, right? You’re done? Well, don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.”
He’d known that there was no way the insurance company would pay once Greer saw the video, and she was always going to have to see the video. He just chose to show it to her now to end his misery. He couldn’t take being next to Greer. Too many memories. Too hard to keep her at a distance. It was self-preservation. This morning he’d had no idea his father had purchased an insurance policy. Now that lifeline was a moot point. He hadn’t lost anything. It was never his to begin with. Neither the money nor Greer.
Greer’s eyes were big, and her cheeks had paled. “Dalton, I still have to complete my investigation.”
“No, you don’t. You just said the key phrase ‘mitigating circumstances.’ Your people won’t pay. No need to go any further.”
Greer squeezed her forehead with one hand “The thing you’re forgetting is that I don’t need your permission. I’m duty-bound to carry out this investigation with or without your help. That’s how it works. And if you’re smart, you’ll help me.”
“How is helping you smart?” Dalton demanded. “You’re not giving me the money, so why the fuck should I care what you do?”
He knew he was hurting her. Her skin was chalk white, and she couldn’t conceal the tremor in her hands. He was deliberately being a bastard to her, and he hated himself for it. But if his behavior got her gone, so be it. This had to be business no matter what he thought or felt about her. She’d dumped him and then ghosted him. And it had crushed him for the longest time. He’d thought he’d managed to put it all behind him, but he’d been lying to himself. The stinging hurt remained just underneath the surface, even after all these years. He needed her as far away as possible if he was going to survive this mess and save the racing team.
“You say your guy, James, didn’t do this. If he wasn’t negligent, you need to let me find out who was. There could still be an avenue where you get paid if Moore’s death isn’t on you.”
“But how likely is that?” he snarled.
She gripped the back of the chair, her knuckles turning white. “I…I’m not sure.”
“Yes, you are. You know the chances are slim. Just go, Greer.”
“No,” she said in a quiet voice. Then in a louder one, “I’m not leaving. I have a job to do, and I’m going to do it with or without your help like you said. But if you help, you get to spin the narrative a lot more than if I do it on my own. You know what the paddock is like. Gossip flies faster than the cars. If you help me, we can find out Moore’s death had nothing to do with Hughes Racing. You don’t help. and people will be left to their own suspicions. Seems to me you already have a lot of people looking for your downfall. This would put another nail in the coffin.”
“She’s right,” Jordana said. “We need to protect the team. Look at the situation Claasen is in with his team screwup in Carrera. We’re already on the edge. If it gets out that it was our fault, we’ll be done for. Hughes Racing will cease to exist.”
Dalton closed his eyes. He should’ve just deleted the video. Not shown it to anyone. Said there was a technical error and let it go. But then a killer would go free, and he couldn’t live with that. Now, the killer still might walk, and his family legacy would go down in flames. He hadn’t improved the situation at all. “It’s over. We need to face it,” he said.
“Bullshit,” Rory exploded.
