“Enough to kick back.”
Everyone looked toward the apprentice whose shin had been bruised earlier in the week.
Tommy whispered, “Son of a…”
Rusty held up a hand.
“Don't jump ahead.”
He turned to Leo.
“You remember an exact number?”
Leo hesitated.
“Dad always said twelve.”
“Twelve what?”
“Degrees.”
Jim looked at Rusty.
Rusty looked deeply uncomfortable.
“You seriously expect me to retime Dutch Sullivan's motor because an eight-year-old remembers a conversation?”
“No,” Leo said.
Rusty looked at him.
Leo pointed at the motorcycle.
“I expect you to open it and look.”
Nobody laughed.
Jim's gaze remained on Rusty.
“Open it.”
“Not right now.”
“Why?”
“Because we already put the cover back on after checking it.”
“So take it off.”
Rusty looked at the clock.
“Jim, that is not a ten-minute job.”
“You've got until Friday.”
“Exactly.”
Jim stepped closer.
“Then stop explaining how long things take.”
Leo spoke again.
“And the battery isn't draining because of a normal short.”
Pete turned.
“What?”
Leo looked toward the left fuel tank.
“There's another switch.”
Pete blinked.
“No, there isn't.”
“Yes.”
“I traced that entire harness.”
“You didn't trace the one inside the frame.”
Pete's expression hardened.
“Kid, I have been fixing motorcycle electrical systems since before your mother was born.”
Leo immediately looked frightened.
But he did not retract the statement.
Jim said, “Pete.”
The old electrician breathed out.
“Fine.”
He looked at Leo.
“What switch?”
“My dad said Mr. Dutch was paranoid about people taking the bike.”
Jim muttered, “Also true.”
“He had Dad help hide an ignition bypass under the left tank. It doesn't look like a normal switch.”
Pete stared at the tank.
“Where?”
“Underneath. Toward the back.”
Pete walked over.
He crouched.
Reached under the metal.
Moved his fingers.
Nothing.
He shifted position.
Then stopped.
His face changed.
“No.”
He felt again.
There.
Almost flush with the underside of the tank sat a tiny recessed toggle, grimy and nearly invisible.
Pete looked over his shoulder.
Rusty stared.
Jim did not smile.
He only asked Leo, “What happens if it's in the wrong position?”
Leo answered immediately.
“Bike won't run right.”
Pete examined the switch.
“And the drain?”
Leo nodded.
“Dad said Dutch wanted anybody stealing it to think the battery or wiring was bad.”
Jim slowly looked toward Dutch's old bike.
For twenty years, he had believed he knew almost every secret the man had.
Apparently not.
Rusty walked to Leo.
“How much else did your father tell you?”
Leo looked at the floor.
“A lot.”
“Why?”
“He talked when he worked.”
“You understood it?”
“Sometimes.”
“And when you didn't?”
“I asked.”
Rusty studied the boy differently now.
He remembered Arthur Hayes.
Quiet.
Thin.
Always carrying too many pencils in his shirt pocket.