Free MURDER IN RETROSPECT (Allie Griffin Mysteries Book 5) by Leslie Leigh

consequences.' That's an exact quote. I'll never forget his voice when he said it."
                  "Whose voice?"
                  "Hawkes, of course. The cover-up was his idea from day one. He covered up the hospital's negligence—my negligence—and the negligence of my associate from Maine, and he went and ensured that your husband's death would be left unrelated to the events."
                  "Your associate from Maine?"
                  "The guy who sold me the parts."
                  What was the name Jimmy Welles had given her? MLA? MTL?
                  "MTS," she said, "the company in Maine that manufactures semiconductors."
                  This time, there was a look of surprise and awe on Teller's face.
                  "Exactly."
                  Allie thought for a moment. "So these parts came directly from the factory. There would be no reason to want to test them again, being factory-certified and all. Richard, you have nothing to worry about. I don’t hold you responsible. Testing those parts would have revealed their defectiveness, but you had no reason to do so. The real culprit here is the guy who slapped a certification on those parts and let them go as defective as they were. All I need is a name."
                  Teller rubbed his hands together. Allie could see that he was beginning to sweat.
                  "Richard, if it's any consolation, nothing would ever come back to you. You can trust me."
                  He looked around again. Uttering the name was weighing on his conscience. Then a change came over his face, and he said calmly, "Ganz."
                  "Ganz?"
                  "Don’t write it down. Eddie Ganz. Works for Morley. Still works there. He gave me the parts. He was paid off with hospital money. Hawkes was afraid that if Ganz was implicated in the accident, then he would be too."
                  "Richard, being a whistleblower doesn’t make you a rat fink."
                  A look on the man's droopy face let her know that there was some comfort to her words.
                  "I've got to go. I'm on my lunch break, you know."
                  "I know, thank you. I'm going to stick around here and browse a bit."
                  He smiled. "I'd give anything to join you. Instead I gotta go back and deal with Cass Hawkes: The Wicked Witch of the West."
                  "Robert Hawkes's wife? What's up?"
                  "She returned a POC to me the other day and she's been on my case."
                  "A POC?"
                  "Portable Oxygen Concentrator. Hawkes was in worse shape than any of us thought. Anyway, she wants—"
                  "What is that? Is that like one of those things you use for emphysema?"
                  "Exactly."
                  "Interesting. And I'm sorry, what does she want you to do with it?"
                  "She's been on my case about processing it for disassembly."
                  "What's involved in that?"
                  "I take down the serial number. I contact the manufacturer. They send me authorization to send the thing back. Then I send it back and they take it apart and they test the parts and make a log of all the ones that need fixing, if any. Then they fix what needs fixing and throw away what can't be fixed. Based on the state of the thing and how long we had it, we could be in line for a credit."
                  "And you’re going to do that now?"
                  "Yeah."
                  "Do you mind if I come with you, Richard? I want to take a look at a couple of things."
                  He hemmed and hawed for a moment. "Aw, jeez, I don’t