She looked at the scrapes on her knuckles. “From the thorn bush.” She’d found the bumper in a thick bush and had to pull it out. It had had dents and scrapes, and streaks of light blue paint—definite signs it had been hit. She’d put a call in to the insurance agent, hoping what she’d learned from the reconstructionist and figured out herself would trigger an investigation.
“The reports on the failed devices.” Jeb set two thick notebooks of printouts on the table. Dylan took one, Dale the other. “Here’s my analysis.” Jeb presented Tara with several pages of colored graphs and charts with percentages of failures on each date for the past month. The graph showed a steady line, except for a few sharp dips.
Dylan was holding the slip of paper on which she’d written the serial number, while he scanned the report pages. After a while he traded books with Dale. When he’d finished he caught Tara’s eye and shook his head. Not so far.
“These reports only go back a month,” Dylan said to Jeb.
“We recycle every four weeks. Haven’t you got enough there?”
“I’d like to see the earlier results, when we did have a component problem. For comparison purposes.”
“It’s on the computer,” Jeb said with a sigh. “Archived.”
Dylan and Tara looked over Jeb’s shoulder as he clicked through screens.
“Also, we’d like to take a few of the failed parts to test them ourselves,” Dylan said.
Jeb shot him a glare. “I’m only tolerating this so-called review because our lawyer ordered me to. You aren’t the only people who stand by their work.”
“We know that, Jeb,” Tara said. “It will reassure the Ryland team that Wharton has nothing to hide.”
Jeb shook his head, irritated, but going along...so far. “I’ll tell Matt to hold a couple from the recycle load. He’s due to haul it out today.”
“Thanks, Jeb,” Dylan said. “We appreciate that.”
“I want this fixed as much as you do. And, for the record, I don’t buy that your father installed our rejects in any damn car that’s still on the road.”
Tara saw that as her cue. “Do you guys put Wharton batteries in your own cars, by the way?”
“Some do. We put them in free for employees. Here’s the first week,” he said, motioning at the screen for Dylan.
“Because my father had one put in his Tesla,” she continued, her heart racing. “I assume it was done here? He’s an employee, after all.” She held her breath, waiting for the answer.
“It’s possible. I didn’t see it.” He kept his attention on the screen.
Matt Sutherland stuck his head in the door. When he saw the visitors, he stiffened, which caught Tara’s attention. “What’s going on?”
“They’re reviewing our test reports,” Jeb said.
Matt blanched. What was that about? Tara got a prickle. She tried to catch Dylan’s eye, but he was glued to the screen.
“Grab a couple of yesterday’s duds for them,” Jeb said to Matt.
“But they’re already loaded on the truck,” he said, almost panicky.
“Then pull a few off,” Jeb said, turning to look at his assistant. “What’s with you?”
“Nothing. Stuff at home, I guess. We have an appointment this afternoon, so—”
“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.”