Hidden compartment.
Jack stared.
“Your dad missed his calling.”
“As what?”
“Bank robber.”
Sophie smiled.
Inside lay a thick leather binder and a small cigar box.
She pulled the binder onto the bench.
Opened.
Photographs.
Dozens.
Sophie at four wearing enormous safety goggles.
Sophie at six sitting on David’s shoulders.
Sophie at eight listening to a motorcycle engine with a stethoscope.
Notes beside everything.
Sophie identified the loose lifter before I did.
Sophie can tell 10mm from 12mm by hand now. Dangerous development.
Never let her near my good ratchet unless supervised.
Sophie started crying.
Not loudly.
Tears simply appeared.
Jack looked toward the floor.
“She loved this place,” Sophie whispered.
Jack corrected gently.
“He.”
She looked at him.
“You said she.”
“You said loved.”
Sophie swallowed.
“My dad loved this place.”
Jack nodded.
“Yes.”
Then she shook her head.
“No.”
“He loved me here.”
Jack looked at her.
That was more accurate.
She turned pages.
Near the back:
Another folded note.
THE PERSON WHO CAN FIX IT ISN'T ALWAYS HOLDING THE WRENCH.
LOOK AT THE NECK OF THE FRAME, SOPH.
They returned to the motorcycle.
Jack used a flashlight.
Sophie leaned on her crutches beside him.
At the steering neck he found the engraving.
Heart.
Wrench.
Initials.
S.C. + D.C.
Below:
REDLINE-001-SOPHIE
Sophie touched the letters.
“It’s mine.”
Jack studied the custom serial.
“Looks that way.”
“He registered the build.”
“Probably.”
Sophie smiled through tears.
“He actually did it.”
Then Gordon’s voice came from behind them.
“No.”
They both turned.
He stood inside the side door.
Jack’s expression hardened.
“I told you to stay outside.”
Gordon ignored him.
He looked at the motorcycle.
Something moved across his face.
Recognition.
Then frustration.
Sophie noticed.
“You knew.”
Gordon said nothing.
“You knew this was here.”
“I knew David had projects.”
“This one has my name.”
“That doesn't establish title.”
Sophie looked at Jack.
Gordon stepped closer.
“Custom serial numbers aren't legal ownership.”
“This shop partnership owned materials.”
“Frames.”
“Parts.”
“Equipment.”
Sophie’s face fell.
Jack spoke.
“If that's true, you can prove it later.”
Gordon looked at him.
“The county tears this down tomorrow.”
“Exactly.”
Jack nodded toward the bike.
“So we're moving it tonight.”
“No.”
Gordon’s response came too quickly.
Jack smiled without warmth.
“Interesting.”
“You aren't removing partnership assets.”
“Your partnership ended years ago.”
“Not cleanly.”
Sophie stared.
Gordon continued.
“Your father left obligations.”
“Assets remained against debt.”
“That motorcycle may be part of them.”
Jack looked toward the binder.
“Then why are you worried about a twelve-year-old seeing it?”
Gordon’s eyes narrowed.
“I’m worried about theft.”