The father’s attorney located probate records.
The fabrication lead had been arrested two months after the founder died.
Not for anything connected to the car.
For tax fraud.
He pleaded guilty.
Served eighteen months.
The single father had never known.
The old man later told his family he had “made mistakes.”
The CEO read case files.
The tax investigation began only three weeks after the founder’s death.
Anonymous tip.
Documents delivered to prosecutors.
Some fraud was real.
But the timing was useful.
A man holding forty percent of Project Twelve’s rights became legally vulnerable, financially ruined, and publicly discredited.
The CEO asked:
“Could the chairman have arranged it?”
The attorney answered:
“Maybe.”
“Could also be coincidence.”
“Do not outrun evidence.”
She hated that sentence.
Everyone had started using it on her.
The single father joined them at the garage later that morning.
He had not shaved.
The boy was at school for half a day because his father insisted normal life mattered.
The CEO explained the tax case.
The father was not shocked.
“My wife’s grandfather never talked about prison.”
“Your wife knew?”
“Maybe.”
“She didn’t tell me.”
The CEO looked frustrated.
“So every generation kept half the story from the next.”
“Fear does that.”
“Or manipulation.”
“Yes.”
He looked at her.
“Both can be true.”
A forensic audio specialist arrived for the microcassette.
The tape was removed manually.
Stable.
No visible mold.
Transferred using a serviced deck under controlled tension.
The first eleven minutes contained engine noises.
Two men talking.
One was the founder.
The other was likely the fabrication lead.
They argued about brake bias.
Then laughter.
Then more testing.
The CEO sat in the garage office wearing headphones.
Hearing her father’s adult voice after twenty-two years was almost unbearable.
She removed the headphones twice.
Then continued.
At minute seventeen, a different recording began.
The founder speaking alone.
The date, spoken aloud, was two days before his death.
His voice was tired.
If this recorder ends up with the car, then the Monday meeting did not happen the way I hoped.
The CEO froze.
The attorney leaned closer.
The recording continued.
Project Twelve belongs sixty percent to me, forty to the fabrication lead until both parties execute assignment.
No assignment exists as of tonight.
Any document stating otherwise is false.
The CEO covered her mouth.
The founder continued.
I am moving the chassis off-site because the president instructed security to seize it Monday morning.
The “president” at the time was the current chairman.
I do not believe he intends physical harm.
The CEO exhaled.
Then:
I do believe he thinks saving the company gives him permission to cross lines.
Silence in the garage office.
The founder’s recorded voice went on.
We are short on cash.
The investors want clean ownership.
He believes one signature is standing between us and survival.
Maybe he’s right about survival.
He is wrong about the signature.
The CEO closed her eyes.
If something happens to me, do not assume it was him.
That stunned everyone.