Back Where She Belongs

chapter SIXTEEN



LEAVING DYLAN AFTER they’d worked out their plan, Tara paused in the Ryland lobby to calm down. The entire time they’d talked, she’d battled her outrage at Sean Ryland’s stunt, her disappointment that Dylan was still making excuses for the man and the terrible sadness that washed over her when she realized she and Dylan were done.

They both knew it would end. They’d set limits. They’d agreed they had no future. Still, she’d wanted more. She’d had a secret hope.

She was a fool.

She took a final calming breath and was about to leave when she remembered her phone had buzzed with a message. She dialed voice mail, her gaze snagging on the whimsical sculpture in front of her—a fountain of floating circuit boards, each with a splash of orange—the Ryland Engineering logo. The peach-colored walls were a good match.

When the first message started, she jolted. It was the accident expert from L.A. She listened as he rattled off his conclusions.

There was a lot of jargon about vectors and drag and torque, but the key point was “there was a collision of some kind, possibly tangential, but the surge in acceleration in evidence would require another factor...possibly a malfunction in the electrical system.”

Okay, she thought, sorting through what she’d heard. The car had been hit and a part had malfunctioned. Something electrical. There’d been a surge.

Her gaze kept snagging on the sculpture. All those logos. She’d seen them before. On the Ryland tour maybe?

Wait. She remembered. The Tesla. Tony had banged on a box he said he’d need to check. She’d seen the edge of the logo. Thinking harder, she realized the car had had a Wharton Electronics battery, too. The Tesla factory-installed battery had been changed out.

The Wharton test crew claimed the faulty Ryland units caused power surges. The Ryland people maintained that a major jolt or blow would be needed to cause the surge.

Like a collision?

A crash and a malfunction added up to the cause of the crash. It explained all the evidence. Her heart racing, she worked it out in her mind. Had Tony changed out the battery? He hadn’t mentioned it when they’d looked at the crushed engine. Why not?

Calling information for the number for Auto Angels, she had him on the phone in seconds. “I haven’t gotten the okay to tow the Tesla to your place yet,” she said, “but I was wondering if you’d installed the Wharton battery.”

“Nope. Not me. I would have, if he’d asked. I get busy. He probably didn’t want to wait. Maybe one of his own techs. Could have been Mr. Ryland, now that I think about it.”

“Sean Ryland?”

“Yeah. He uses my shop. I know he put a Wharton battery in his own car. Maybe Abbott asked him to do it. Why?”

“Just wondering. Thanks,” she said, hanging up. Chills ran down her arms and her mind flew, conclusions clicking one after the other like so many dominoes. Sean Ryland had installed the faulty part.

Of course. He’d put one in Dylan’s car, Candee’s and a few others. Like her father’s Tesla? He’d wanted to prove the parts were fine. Except this one had failed...and killed her father.

Her skin buzzing, her entire body crackling with electricity, she turned back toward the Ryland offices to find out the truth. She passed the startled receptionist, took the hall with long strides, found Sean’s office and entered without knocking.

The man sat at his desk, chair facing the window. When he turned, she saw a handkerchief dotted with blood was wrapped around one palm. He’d broken the glass on a picture frame. The photo lay among glass shards on his desk—the same picture her father kept under his desk glass—the two men excited about their jet engine part.

“You killed my father,” she blurted, her anger exploding.

His head jolted back, clearly shocked.

“That never occurred to you? That the faulty part you put in his car caused the wreck? Are you that pigheaded?

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You admitted you put the parts on people’s cars without telling them. We all heard you. You risked their lives out of stubborn pride. And my father died because of it. My sister’s in a coma, thanks to you.” She was shaking with rage. She wanted to attack the man, who sat in his chair shaking his head, a superior look on his face.

“I never touched Abbott’s car,” he said. “You just calm down about that. I offered to, sure, but he couldn’t risk being proved wrong.”

“So you installed it anyway. Don’t you have any remorse? Don’t you care? Or did you hate him so much you’re glad he’s dead? He got what he deserved, right?”

Sean lunged to his feet. “If you were a man I’d knock you flat.”

“Go for it!” she yelled. “What’s a punch in the jaw compared with murder?” She was out of control, saying too much, being vicious, but a storm raged inside her at this man, who’d harmed her family, harmed his own son.

“What are you doing here?” he said in a low, malevolent tone. “You think being here makes up for betraying your family. Get out. Go back to your important life. Leave us alone. Leave my son alone. Haven’t you done enough damage to him?”

“Me? If anyone’s done any damage to Dylan, it’s you—keeping him here to clean up your mess. You were so bitter. So hateful. Blaming my father for your mistakes. You—”

“What the hell’s going on in here?” Dylan stood in the doorway, clearly upset, looking from one to the other.

“She accused me of killing Abbott,” Sean said, pointing at her.

“What?” Dylan stared at her, eyes wide, disbelieving.

“He put a faulty circuit in the Tesla like he did in your car. The accident expert said there was a collision and that there had to be some other malfunction to cause that kind of acceleration. A Ryland unit was in the Tesla. I saw it myself. Tony didn’t put it in. He said your father might have.”

“Did you do that?” Dylan asked his father.

“My own son,” Sean said in a disgusted tone. “No, I didn’t. Now get out of my office before I do something I’ll regret.”

“This isn’t over,” Tara said to him. “Count on it.”

“We need to talk,” Dylan said to his father, then held the door for Tara. He passed her, walking fast. She had to half run to catch up with him in the lobby. He kept going out to the parking lot before he turned on her. “Murder, Tara? You accused my father of murder? I know you hate him, but that’s too much even for you.”

“He put the part in, Dylan. He had motive and opportunity. The Tesla was in the shop. Tony says your dad works on cars there. He admitted he put the part in a few cars, including yours, without telling the owners. He wanted to prove his point. And that part caused the wreck. The part and a collision.”

“He wouldn’t lie about that”

“Can you be that blind? Of course he would. He had a point to prove. He risked lives to do it—yours, Candee’s, my father’s, my sister’s, who knows how many others? He caused the wreck and he’s too stubborn to admit it.”

“Someone else put the part in, Tara. Another mechanic. Maybe someone at Wharton. It wasn’t him.”

She looked into his impassive face and realized the truth. “You’ll always take his side. He threw a tantrum that all but destroyed your contract with Wharton, but you excuse it, explain it away, refused to admit he’s wrong.” She stopped to catch her breath, furious, dizzy from lack of oxygen.

“That’s enough, Tara. I know you want someone to blame and I know you’d love it to be my father, the man you blame for our breakup, the man you despise, but it’s not true.”

“You wouldn’t believe it if he signed a confession.”

“My father wouldn’t lie. You want the truth, but only if it’s ugly. You want to justify your hatred of this town and everyone in it. You accused Bill Fallon, Greg Pescatore, Joseph, now my father. Who’s next? Your mother? Me? Why not me? Wharton caused my father trouble. Maybe I put the faulty unit in his car. Maybe I drove him off the highway. Why not?”

She’d never seen him so angry before. “You’re exaggerating to make my position look ridiculous.”

“I don’t need to exaggerate. You have a chip on your shoulder the size of this town. You’re angry at me because I stayed, because I helped my father.”

“Your father bullied you, manipulated you. He robbed you of college, dragged you into his company and kept you here to keep him from self-destructing again. You fell for it, you’re still falling for it, because you think if you don’t do what he wants he won’t love you anymore. Parents are supposed to love you, no matter what. You don’t have to earn their love.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, but she could tell that her words had struck a nerve. “How could you?”

“You mean with my parents, who don’t love me? No, you mean because I don’t know how to love. I’m not capable of love.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“It’s what you think, though.”

“No. It’s what you think, Tara. And you use that as an excuse to keep people at arm’s length, to reject them before they reject you. You had no right to make me choose. I loved my father and I loved you. He needed me more.”

“Don’t you get it? He’ll always need you more.” She felt so lost suddenly, so sad. It seemed hopeless. They were both trapped in their past.

“My father is flawed. I know that. His bitterness tore our family apart, okay? But he’s still my father. I love him and he loves me. I work around his flaws. I focus on the good. That’s what you do for the people you love. You don’t set impossible standards, then write them off when they can’t meet them.”

“That’s what you think I do, isn’t it? I write people off.”

“I could never make you happy, Tara. You know that. You’d always be braced for me to fail you. I can’t live like that, constantly having to prove my love, always about to lose you.”

“And I can’t live with someone who thinks that of me, who has so little respect or trust.”

“Exactly,” he said. He felt the same about her. They were stuck.

They looked at each other in silence for a long time as their words settled around them like dry leaves after a gust. Her fingers and toes felt numb, her chest hollow, her brain fuzzy.

It was over. In a way it was a relief. They’d ended it before they could hurt each other more than either of them could bear.

“What do we do now?” Dylan asked softly, his eyes so sad she wanted to cup his cheek, tell him never mind, she’d be the love he needed her to be and he’d be hers. But that wasn’t possible.

She looked out across the parking lot, then back at the front of the building. “We go back to work,” she said, fighting with everything in her to do the sensible thing, to do what she’d promised herself and her sister she would do. “Can we do that? Or is that over, too?”

“My father did not put that part in your father’s car. We don’t even know if the part caused the accident. That’s all speculation, Tara.”

She let his words sink in, as painful as that was. “You’re right. It could have been a tech at Wharton who put it in,” she said softly. “Tony mentioned that, too.” She herself had seen batteries being installed in the testing area. “I did assume the worst.”

Dylan blew out a breath. “So let’s find out who did the installation and whether or not the part was faulty.”

“For that, I have to get the insurance company to release the car so we can have the part tested.”

“If we can find the serial number in any of the Tesla photos I took, we could check it against the list of units Wharton has reported as bad.”

“So, you’ll still help me?”

“We both want the truth, Tara. If the unit was bad, if it contributed to the accident, then Ryland Engineering has to admit fault and deal with the consequences.”

“I hadn’t thought that far,” she said. That could be catastrophic for Dylan’s company. The insurance agency would likely sue Ryland for damages. When it came out that a Ryland part had killed the CEO of Wharton Electronics, there would be brutal media coverage. Dylan stood ready to do the right thing. Pride filled her. He was a good, honorable man.

“We need to look into this quietly,” she said. “We can’t afford any rumors until we know the whole story.”

“Jeb is willing to sit down with Dale and me,” he said. “I was on the phone with him when you got into it with my father.”

“You could check for the serial number while you’re there, right? Without raising eyebrows?”

“Should be easy enough. We’ll be looking at their lists anyway, looking for patterns.”

“If I come along, say, as a facilitator, I should be able to casually ask about any installation on my father’s car.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Dylan said.

“Yeah.” She had a flicker of the good feeling about working with him. “And I want you to know that if there is a problem, if Ryland Engineering is at fault, I’ll help you with a crisis plan to deal with the fallout.”

“If you’re as good as I think you are that should help. We’re not going down without a fight, that’s for sure.”

“I’ll do all I can to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“I know you will.” They held each other’s gaze for a long moment, saying goodbye to what they’d shared. The next time they saw each other, their intimacy would be gone.

“I’ll check the pictures for the serial number. I want to look for the bumper at the crash site, just in case. There was a collision, for sure. We still need to find out who hit the car.”

“We’ll touch base later then?” Dylan said. “Pin down the details before we meet at the Wharton test lab?”

“Sure.”

“You’ll need to pick up your things. There’s a key under the back mat.”

“Oh. Right.” He wanted all signs of her gone when he returned home. She didn’t blame him. “I want to say goodbye to Duster.” It was for the best. They were done with each other.

“Yeah.” He swallowed hard, then blinked, clearly fighting emotion.

The sight made tears spring to her eyes, but she was not going to cry. Why cry when you were doing what had to be done?

* * *

“CAN I TALK to you a minute?” Victor stopped Dylan in the hall on his way to have it out with his father.

“Sure,” he said, forcing himself to focus on Victor. “If it’s about the meeting, I’m going to take Dale over to Wharton and actually look at the test data, so—”

“It’s not that.” The man looked almost sheepish. “I thought you should know I’m looking at making a move.”

“A move?”

“Taking another job. There’s a plant in Phoenix that needs a manager. It’d be a lateral move, but it’s a good opportunity.”

Dylan stiffened. He’d counted on Victor to fill his shoes. “We talked about you taking over when I leave.”

“I appreciate the thought, but...” He fidgeted with his cap, finally looking at Dylan. “Hell, we both know that’s not going to happen. You and your dad are...” He interlocked his fingers and tugged, as if they wouldn’t pull apart.

“It’s not like that. I have a plan. Dad knows I’m leaving.”

“This is your company. It’s got your name on it. Your father depends on you. He brushes me off like a fly.”

He’d seen his father be brusque with Victor, that was true. “Dad can be difficult. Abbott’s death has been hard for him, I think.”

“What’s hard for him is you threatening to leave once production ramps up. He’s been throwing wrenches—figuratively—left and right. You don’t know that?”

He stared at Victor, a man he’d always trusted. Could that be true? The idea made room for itself in his head.

“Think about it. That was when he started harping at the line workers, throwing shots when we had our management meetings. All that crap about how we need a new direction, that we have tunnel vision, no imagination.”

“That was about the Wharton contract, the specs being too tight.”

“He was fine with the contract at first. He didn’t start bitching until you told him you wanted to leave.”

Dylan thought back. The first argument he could recall was not long after he’d broken the word to his dad. “Damn. You’re right.” The pieces snapped together. How had he missed that?

Still, despite what Tara said, his father wasn’t a conniving person. “He might not even realize that’s what he’s doing,” Dylan said.

“Hard to know. He shoots from the hip.”

“I need to talk with him, that’s for sure. Can you give me a week before you take the job? I don’t want to lose you if we can straighten this out.”

“Yeah. I told them I’d need some time. I’d like to stay, but not if I have to fight for authority, Dylan.”

“I understand.”

“Good luck.” Touching the edge of his cap in a quick salute, Victor turned and left.

Dylan stood for a few seconds, stunned that he’d missed something so obvious. Victor thought he and his father were locked together, that Dylan would never leave the company.

He’d already concluded he’d have to stay longer to get his father back on track after Abbott’s death.

He’ll always need you more. That’s what Tara had said.

Troy Waller had told him point-blank at lunch that he was running for mayor after all. I can’t wait around for you, he’d said. Troy didn’t believe Dylan would quit Ryland Engineering, either.

Dylan felt like an idiot. He had been blind. Not to the extent Tara claimed, but blind enough. Damn.

There would never be the perfect time to leave. The sailing would never be smooth, the ground would never be solid. Dylan had to go anyway.

Frankly he knew his father wasn’t having much fun working with him, either. They argued constantly. If Victor was ever to get the respect he deserved, then Dylan had to get out of the way so the two men could figure out a working relationship. He took a deep breath and headed into his father’s office. They had a lot to talk about.

His father stood at the window. When he turned, Dylan noticed his hand was wrapped. Then he saw the broken glass on the desk. He’d smashed the picture of him and Abbott. The man definitely had a childish streak.

“You back to apologize?” his father asked.

“No, I’m not.”

“She poisoned your mind that much? How could you think that I would harm Abbott? For all his crimes, he was my friend.” His voice dropped and went hoarse. “Good God, son.”

Dylan would not soften. Not now. “I know you didn’t put the part in his car. I told Tara that. It doesn’t change the fact that you put them in my car and Candee’s without telling us. You risked our lives, Dad.”

“That’s bullshit. There’s nothing wrong with those parts.”

“One of them was in Abbott’s Tesla. If it’s faulty, then it contributed to the accident. And if it was, then Ryland Engineering is in big trouble. Tara and I are going to find out the truth.”

“Tara? She doesn’t want the truth. She wants to destroy us! You don’t see that? Her mother’s probably in on it, too.” His eyes looked wild. “She called me that night, you know. Said she needed to talk to me, that it was important that she talk to me first. She never showed.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this?”

“Why did it matter? I never saw the woman.” His father’s eyes blazed. “That’s not the first time Rachel Wharton said one thing and did the other.”

“What does that mean?”

“Not important.”

He glared at his father, sick to death of his twisted emotions and confused motivations. “I’ll tell you what is important—the contract with Wharton which you practically cost us.”

“Maybe that’s for the best.”

“No, Dad. It’s not for the best. I don’t know why you want to kill it, and it doesn’t really matter because we need the contract. I won’t lose it if there’s any way to save it. And here’s something else. I’m leaving the company. I’ll stay until this business with the bad parts is resolved, one way or the other. I’ll see us through whatever comes of the Tesla wreck investigation. In the meantime, Victor’s going to take over most of my duties.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“It’s been ten years, Dad. I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished here. But I’m done. I need to move on. You need me to move on. You have to step up to the plate and lead the company, stop throwing stones into the works. Victor will do great in my place. Better, in fact, since he’s an engineer, too.”

“You’re that angry at me.” His father looked totally betrayed. He seemed to sink into himself. “You’d just walk out on me.”

Dylan fought the urge to rescue him, to take it back, to promise to always be there. He knew that wasn’t good for either of them. He felt the empty ache he’d felt at eighteen seeing his father so ruined. Maybe Tara had a point. Maybe he thought he had to rescue his father or lose the man’s love.

“I’m not angry. I’m just determined. It’s time, Dad. For both of us.”

“I didn’t know you were so unhappy here.”

“We both need a break from each other.”

His father looked down. “I know I’m not the easiest guy to work with.”

“No, you’re not. And maybe I put up with too much from you over the years. You can do better. You’ll have to when Victor takes over. He’s not as easygoing as I am. And you can’t afford to lose him. That’s certain.”

His father looked at him. His eyes showed hurt, but Dylan saw a flicker of acceptance. “I didn’t raise you to let people down.”

“You raised me to believe in myself, to go after my dream. And that’s what I’m doing. I love you, Dad. I respect you. You’re a brilliant engineer. This is for the best.”

“So you say,” his dad said, but there was no energy behind his mockery.

“Right now, I’m going to talk to Dale about getting the testing mess fixed, once and for all. And you’re going to change out those drive assemblies you put in my car, Candee’s car and anybody else’s car.”

“They’re not broken, Dylan. I’d bet my life on it.”

“You bet all our lives on it, Dad. You’d better hope the part on Abbott’s car wasn’t faulty or you’ve not only lost a bet, you’ve your company helped kill a man and put a woman in a coma.”

At home, a few hours later, when he dropped onto the couch with a beer, the enormity of what had happened rolled over him.

The possibility that a Ryland part might have killed Abbott Wharton was almost more than he could bear. If it were true, it might well sink the company.

It had been hard to hurt his father, to hear him say Dylan was letting him down, but the decision was right. Dylan knew that. His father would see that...or he wouldn’t. Dylan would live with it, either way. If his father quit loving him, he’d live with that, too.

And then there was Tara. Their argument and their breakup. He sighed. In some ways, that hurt most of all. He ached all over, inside and out. It hurt to breathe.

Sensing his distress, Duster hauled his arthritic bones onto the couch and rested his muzzle on Dylan’s lap, tucking his head under Dylan’s hand. He seemed to think if Dylan petted him, Dylan would feel better.

“Won’t work, pal. I don’t think I’ll feel better for a long, long time.”

Dylan and Tara had shared only two nights, but it felt like they’d said no to a lifetime together, to happiness, to a closeness he’d never known before.

Not the closeness of teenagers marveling at the wonder of being in love for the first time, but an adult intimacy, a true connection, a lifelong bond.

Too much stood between them. Too little held them together. He was almost grateful to have a work problem to focus on, anything to keep him from feeling the heartbreak that waited to plow him under.