A big touring motorcycle rolled forward from the center of the group. Leo recognized the shape of the front fender and the repaired Road King's distinctive rumble before he recognized the rider. Sully lifted off his helmet, and the scarred face beneath it looked even harder than it had in the garage. The bandage across his shoulder showed at the edge of his vest, but he moved with deliberate control as he stepped onto the ground.
His eyes found Leo immediately. They moved across the boy's swollen lip, the dust on his clothes, and the way he held his injured side. Something cold settled into Sully's expression. He turned toward Hank without hurrying, and Leo experienced the unfamiliar sensation of seeing the man who frightened him become afraid of someone else.
"Afternoon," Sully said. His voice carried across the apron without the need to shout. "Looks like I got here at a bad time."
Higgins stepped forward quickly, trying to recover control before the crowd completely took it away. He introduced himself as Deputy Carl Higgins of the Mohave County Sheriff's Office and declared that he was conducting a lawful recovery of a missing juvenile. He ordered the riders to remain away from the police vehicles. His voice sounded official, but he kept looking toward the line of motorcycles as if expecting the answer to come from there rather than from Sully.
"Then you shouldn't mind a few witnesses," Sully said. He turned his head slightly toward a huge rider standing beside him. "Ox, keep everybody calm. Nobody makes this worse."
Arthur Callahan, known as Ox, stepped forward from the nearest group. He was taller even than Sully, with a braided beard and an old scar visible above his collar, and his presence was enough to make Higgins reconsider his next movement. Ox stopped several feet away rather than crowding the deputy. He spread his hands where everyone could see them and told Higgins, in a surprisingly quiet voice, that no rider wanted trouble with a uniform.
Higgins seemed relieved until Ox added, "But that boy isn't leaving with anyone until somebody listens to what he's saying."
"You don't get to decide that," Higgins replied. "He's a minor."
"Neither do you get to decide he's lying," Ox said. "That ought to matter, too."
Sully had reached Leo by then. He lowered himself into a crouch despite the stiffness in his wounded shoulder, and for a moment his face was the same wary, concerned face Leo had seen by the workbench. "Kid," he said quietly. "You look a lot worse than when I left you."
Leo tried to answer and discovered that words were harder than he expected. He nodded toward Hank. "That's him. Hank Dawson. I told you I had nowhere safe to go." He swallowed and added, "He's the reason."