Back Where She Belongs(49)

“That’s twice this week,” Jeb snapped.

“I know. I’m sorry. It’s her blood pressure. They’re worried about it. Tuesday was the hospital tour, so that was the extra time.”

“At least book the appointments on days you’re not supervising. I don’t have time to run your shifts and mine, Matt.”

“I’ll try. We’re stuck with Thursday appointments because of the doctor’s schedule.”

Thursdays. Tara felt a jolt. She looked down at the graph before her. The days with hardly any faulty parts were Thursdays. She looked at Tuesday, the day Matt had been at the hospital. A dip. Electricity sizzled through her. The high error rates took place when Matt was in charge. Could he have manipulated the tests to make Ryland look bad?

He was acting jumpy about the bad units, too.

“You know if anyone put a battery in Abbott Wharton’s car?” Jeb asked him.

“Abbott Wharton?” Now the pink in his cheeks flooded his face. “He would go to his own mechanic, wouldn’t he? Tony Carmichael? Out at Auto Angels? He does most of the e-cars in town.”

That was a lot of information, as if he was trying to shift attention away from the guilty party. Had Matt installed the part? And if he had, so what? Why hide it? Unless he knew the part was faulty....

“Carmichael didn’t do it,” Jeb said tiredly. “That’s the point.”

“Then I don’t know,” Matt said. “I need to get back to the tests.” He was gone in an instant. That had been odd. Was he just guilty about missing a shift?

Dale flipped the book closed then looked at Jeb. “I know the equipment’s off-limits, but I need to see your calibrations to get what’s going on.”

“Ah, hell. Let’s go.” Jeb Jeb’s willingness to investigate made Tara certain he’d meant it when he said he wanted this worked out. Tara and Dylan were alone in the office.

“Look at this chart,” Tara said. “There are dips in error rates whenever Matt’s off.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. Every Thursday. And the Tuesday he mentioned the hospital visit?” She tapped the dip.

“Hmm. You think Matt messed with the readings? Boosted the fail rate?”

“It fits. Plus, when he saw us here, heard we were looking things over, he got upset.”

“He sure as hell didn’t want us checking the rejects,” Dylan said.

“Right. Because he knew they weren’t duds. If it’s true, then the fail rate is bogus, Dylan. There’s nothing wrong with the Ryland assembly.”

Dylan leaned back in his chair, running his hands down his face. “Damn. That would save us.” He smiled, his face cleared of worry for a few seconds. “Now how do we prove it?” He rolled closer to the desk, leaning in, giving her that jolt, making her miss him in the middle of the investigation.

“Let’s show this to Jeb,” Tara said. “Let him test the units Matt’s about to haul away for himself. That should get him on our side.”

“Jeb’s a decent guy. He’ll do the right thing.”

“So, have you checked all the numbers? Is the Tesla part there?”

“Not yet. I’ve got a few more screens to look at.” Dylan went back to the monitor, searching more numbers. After a few seconds, he said, “Damn. It’s here. From the first failed lot, back when we had bad components from our Tennessee supplier.” His face was gray, his eyes bereft of hope. “It was our part. We caused the wreck, Tara.”

“I’m sorry, Dylan. I am.” She felt sick about it.

“I hope you were serious about that crisis plan.” All his relief had been replaced by gloom.

“Don’t forget it wasn’t just the part. The car got hit from behind. We still need to find who that was.” She paused, as a thought occurred to her. “There’s something else. Matt acted weird when Jeb asked if he knew who put the part on the Tesla. I’d bet money it was Matt.”

“How do you figure?”

“He was trying to deflect the blame to Tony Carmichael, giving us too many details. That suggests he’s hiding guilt—his or someone else’s.”

“Why hide that he put on the part?”

“Because he knew it was faulty when he installed it,” she said slowly, as the realization hit her.

“But most of the rejects weren’t bad and he knows it.”

“So he did it deliberately. Why? To harm my father? I can’t believe that. It required a crash to activate the circuitry flaw.”

“Maybe he wanted to harm Ryland,” Dylan said slowly. “You saw how hostile he was during the meeting.”

“And he brought up your bad supplier the day I took the tour. He even mentioned the plant in Tennessee.”

“Yeah. But what would he get out of that? He has relatives who work for Ryland. Friends, too. If Wharton dropped us as a supplier, Wharton’s production would suffer, as well.”

“Why then?” They looked at each other, both thinking it through. “Wait a second,” she said. “I remember something. At the funeral, Faye’s assistant told me about the factory manager who got fired. She said Pescatore had told people Wharton was going to shut down the factory and outsource assembly to a plant in Kentucky. Maybe she meant Tennessee.”

“If Wharton outsourced, Matt and a hell of a lot of other people would lose their jobs. Maybe he wanted to discredit the Tennessee plant, keep Wharton from sending work there.”

“It’s a decent theory. The only way to know is to talk to Matt.”

“Why would he admit any of it?”

“Because we’ll ask the right questions at the right time in the right way.”

“This is your area, Tara. I’ll follow your lead.”

His confidence in her felt good.

Dale and Jeb returned to the office at that moment, Dale looking frustrated, Jeb triumphant. “I don’t get it,” Dale said. “The calibrations look good. I don’t know what the problem is.”

“Like I said, we stand by our work,” Jeb said.

“I need to get back, if that’s all right,” Dale said to Dylan.

“Yeah. Go ahead. We’ll keep working here for a while.”

As soon as Dale left, Dylan and Tara laid out their case for Jeb. He listened, looked at the chart, shook his head in puzzlement. “I know you’re showing me my own data, but it sounds crazy.”

“That’s why you need to grab some rejects before they get recycled and test them yourself,” Dylan said.

“Guess so.”

“We’d like to talk to Matt, if we can,” Tara said. “See if we can get him to explain his thinking. That okay with you?”

Jeb looked at them both. “I sure as hell can’t talk to him right now. I’ll tear him a new one. Tell him I said to forget the recycling for now.”

“Will do. Thanks, Jeb,” Dylan said.

“Just figure it out. We’ve got production quotas to hit.”

Tara grabbed the digital recorder she used to capture thoughts when she was driving, and handed it to Dylan. “Put this in your shirt pocket. We’ll record what he tells us.”

They spotted Matt walking into a small hangar near some panel trucks. They set off at a lope, strategizing as they went. Closer, Tara saw palettes of parts stacked beside one of the trucks.

“Go time,” she said.

Dylan turned on the recorder and they went inside and found Matt bent over, shifting crates around. “Matt?” Dylan called to him.

“Huh?” He jolted and turned, looking guilty as hell, a dusty box in his hand. “I got the part you want.” He flushed.

“No need. We’ll grab a couple from your stack outside.”

“No,” he blurted, which told Tara their theory was right. “This is what you want.” He thrust the box at Dylan.

“Because these are actually bad,” Dylan asked, “while the others are perfectly good?” Dylan was playing bad cop. Tara would show sympathy when the time felt right.

Matt flinched, his eyes darting everywhere, desperate for escape.

“You put a bad unit in Abbott’s car, didn’t you, Matt?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said flatly, his eyes going cold, his jaw locked.

“Don’t bother to lie. We can prove it.” Not true, but it clearly terrified Matt, who went white except for red blotches on his neck.

Tara’s instincts fired up. It was time for her to speak. “We know you didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt,” she said. “Whatever you did, you did for everyone’s good, to save jobs and help people. We know you’re that kind of guy.” She spoke slowly and warmly, hoping to draw him in with her sympathy.