Delgado raised his eyes. I watched relief and fear cross his face together, an expression more complicated than the stories people tell about confession and redemption. There was no promise that his part in it would be forgotten. There was only the possibility that telling the truth might finally lead somewhere useful.
Grip called Jack inside. The three men agreed that Delgado should speak with an attorney and a law-enforcement investigator, not only with members of the charter. Jack called a lawyer he knew and arranged for the preserved part, my notes, and Delgado's documents to be transferred under a documented chain of custody. Nothing about it sounded fast enough to satisfy someone hungry for revenge.
That was precisely why it sounded right to me. Hector had taught me that a repair meant making sure the problem stayed repaired after the customer left. I wanted the truth handled with the same discipline. A frightening accusation wasn't a result; it was the beginning of work that had to hold up after emotions cooled.
When Delgado stood, he looked exhausted. Grip asked him to remain available and not contact Pruitt or anyone associated with the commission while the evidence was secured. He made no threat and no promise beyond that. Delgado thanked me for answering his call.
"I didn't know whether you'd listen," he said at the door.
"I didn't know whether I should," I answered.
He considered that. "Maybe that's fair."
After he left, Grip remained beside the bench. He looked at the red motorcycle and then at the old portrait of Hector hanging above my desk.
"You did right calling me," he said. "And you did right not handling this alone."
"What does Carver mean to you?" I asked.
Grip's face grew very still. "It means we need to look beyond a motorcycle. There have been other things in the valley: property disputes, pressure on businesses, and an accident a few years back that never felt right. The name came up around the edges of some of it."
"You think it's connected?"
"I think it's possible. I won't pretend it's proven."
He told me to lock the doors and call if anything unusual happened. Then he left, taking Jack and the other man with him. I stood alone in the garage, the red paint catching the light above the bench, and tried to understand how a repair job had become a story about a developer I had never met.
At eleven forty-eight, my phone vibrated. The sender was unknown. The message contained four words.
You should have quit.
I read it twice. Then I remembered Hector telling me to preserve the evidence before deciding what it meant. I took a screenshot and called Grip.
He answered on the first ring. I read the message aloud. When I finished, I heard him breathe slowly.
"Don't answer it," he said. "Save it. Keep the original. If they make another threat, we'll report it with the rest. Is anybody with you?"
"No."