Hank stopped talking.
The biker was not shouting.
That was worse.
“I gave Leo this lighter.”
Hank blinked.
“What?”
“Three nights ago.”
Sully held it between two fingers.
“He got my motorcycle running after I went down on this road.”
Hank looked toward the Road King.
Then Leo.
Disbelief replaced fear for one second.
“This kid?”
“This kid.”
Sully handed the lighter back to Leo.
“The club knows that Zippo.”
Several riders nodded.
Sully’s voice lowered.
“So when you call him a thief, make sure you understand who can prove otherwise.”
Higgins stepped forward.
“All right. That clears up the lighter.”
Sully turned.
“But this is still official business.”
“Show me.”
“What?”
“Paperwork.”
Higgins stiffened.
“You don’t have authority to demand anything.”
“True.”
Sully nodded.
“So call somebody who does.”
The deputy’s expression changed.
“What exactly are you suggesting?”
“I’m suggesting we stay right here.”
Sully looked around.
“Plenty of witnesses.”
Higgins glanced at the riders.
Phones were already out.
Some recording.
That mattered.
Leo saw it.
Sully continued.
“We call state police.”
Hank’s face tightened.
“There’s no reason.”
“Child services.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Leo gets checked at a hospital.”
“He doesn’t need—”
Sully looked at him.
Hank stopped.
“You afraid somebody might document what happened to him?”
“I didn’t do anything.”
Leo laughed.
The sound hurt.