“Mack.”
Sully nodded toward Leo.
“This is him.”
Mack Devlin looked Leo over.
“You the desert mechanic?”
“I fixed one bike.”
“Sully says you’re a genius.”
“Sully exaggerates.”
Mack smiled.
“Excellent.”
Sully frowned.
“Why is everybody taking his side?”
Mack inspected the Road King.
He found Leo’s temporary repair.
Did not laugh.
Did not praise it either.
He studied everything.
Then looked at Leo.
“What did you intend this to do?”
“Get him somewhere safe.”
“Permanent?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Wrong materials. Wrong environment. No proper equipment.”
Mack nodded.
“What would you do here?”
Leo pointed out the proper areas that needed replacement and inspection.
Mack listened.
“Who taught you?”
“My dad.”
“Name?”
“Patrick Gallagher.”
Mack froze.
“Reno?”
Leo stared.
“You knew him?”
“Met him.”
Mack walked toward the office wall.
Pointed at a photograph.
Leo stepped closer.
A younger Patrick Gallagher stood near the center of a group of mechanics at an old motorcycle show.
Same dark hair.
Same crooked grin.
Same hand resting on an engine.
Leo forgot to breathe.
“That’s my dad.”
“I know.”
Mack leaned against the wall.
“He helped one of my friends with a transmission problem. Wouldn’t take payment.”
Leo smiled faintly.
“Yeah.”
Mack looked at him.
“You want work?”
Leo immediately said:
“Yes.”