We don't protect Sky by claiming things we haven't checked." Gregory closed his eyes briefly. He heard his old friend in the statement, the way Luther used to tell the younger riders that you couldn't repair a bike by swearing the damaged part ought to be good.
Later that day Jeff found an odd entry in the old correspondence. It was a forwarded message from an investigator retained by a private law firm, requesting information about the Iron Jaws' members and past incidents. The timing was close to Luther's custody petition. The message mentioned a private client whose identity had been removed from the summary, but a later response included the name Michael Ventry by accident. Jeff stared at it, wondering why a stranger had been asking about a mechanic's associates while a little girl's future was being decided.
He brought the page to Lucy, expecting her to shrug. Instead she went very still. "Ventry?" she asked. "Michael Ventry?"
Jeff nodded, and Lucy looked past him toward the faded memorial photographs on the wall. She knew the name from a different chapter of the club's history, one no one enjoyed revisiting. It belonged to a man who had spent nine years claiming Luther Holloway caused his brother's death, even though the police investigations had never supported the accusation.
Lucy went into Gregory's office and closed the door. When she placed the email in front of him, he read the name and stopped. For the first time since Sky walked into the garage, the danger no longer felt limited to a troubled child welfare placement. It had acquired a face from a bitter old feud and a reason to reach into a history they had tried to bury. Gregory looked at Lucy and said, "Tell me everything you've found before anybody else hears a word of this."
Nine years earlier, on a night of heavy rain, two motorcycles crashed on different stretches of highway. The first belonged to Luther Holloway, who struck a slick patch near a curve and never made it home. The second belonged to Aaron Ventry, a member of the Steel Chains motorcycle club, who lost control on another road more than an hour later. Investigators documented separate scenes, interviewed witnesses, and found no evidence the two men had encountered each other that night. But Michael Ventry, Aaron's older brother, refused to accept the official conclusion.
Michael had known Luther in the years when the Iron Jaws and Steel Chains competed over charity events, garage business, and the kind of small-town pride that turns ordinary arguments into lifelong grievances. He had a gift for turning uncertainty into accusation. When Aaron died, that