Noel put the bag on the counter and looked toward the taped-off section of the lot. Sarah had already called him the previous night, but he needed to see the empty space where the motorcycle had stood. He asked no sensational questions. He simply stood with his hands in his pockets, surveying the lot like a man considering the safest place to park a load of fuel.
"Your dad would have been scared," he said eventually.
Sarah frowned. "He would've called for help."
"Those aren't different things."
It bothered her how easily he had found the thought she had avoided all night. Noel had watched Martin face illness, financial setbacks, and a dozen broken machines without losing his sense of humor. If anyone knew what her father's courage actually looked like, it was him. She let the remark sit while he poured coffee from the pot she had set aside for him.
Noel asked Wyatt whether he had spoken to the investigators. Wyatt said he had answered some questions and declined others. Noel nodded, apparently satisfied with the honesty. Then he told Sarah he would come back in the evening to help secure the workshop if she still felt uncomfortable leaving it alone.
"You're not sleeping here," she told him.
"I didn't say I was. I'm too old to volunteer for a bad night and too smart to pretend an old man with a wrench can fix everything. But I can bring you another pair of hands before dark."
By midmorning, two unfamiliar men in a dark SUV pulled into the parking lot. They wore ordinary clothes and moved with the careful politeness of people determined not to reveal how much they were noticing. One bought a bottle of water. The other looked at the salvage yard longer than was necessary for a customer interested in coffee.
Sarah asked whether they needed parts. The taller man said no, then asked if she'd been having trouble with motorcycle people. Her stomach tightened. She could see Wyatt through the workshop doorway, standing still with a rag in his hand.
"We've had a little trouble with everybody lately," Sarah said. "You looking for a place to get breakfast or a place to ask questions?"
The man smiled. "A friend of ours said you met some interesting riders yesterday."
"A lot of interesting people stop here."
"This friend hopes there aren't any misunderstandings."
Sarah looked directly at him. "A man almost died in my parking lot. I'm afraid your friend's definition of a misunderstanding might be different from mine."
The smile thinned. He put a five-dollar bill on the counter for the water, and the two men walked out without another word. Their SUV stayed in the lot long enough for Sarah to note its license plate and the direction it took when it returned to the highway. She wrote the information in a notebook, then telephoned Deputy Mercer and told her about the visit.
Wyatt emerged from the workshop with his jaw set. "Graham sent them."
"I assumed."
"He wants you frightened enough to leave."
"Then he should have sent somebody who could afford to buy a sandwich."