Described the unusual red paint.
And explained where serial markings could be found.
The detective thanked him.
Then asked whether the missing man had mentioned anyone he was afraid of.
The old mechanic hesitated.
He thought about the anonymous messages.
The salvage yard.
And his business partner's reaction to the red tin.
Then he told her everything he knew.
He didn't exaggerate.
Didn't claim to have witnessed anything he hadn't.
And didn't insist that his old friend must be guilty.
But he explained the history.
The fire.
The missing funds.
The eleven years of estrangement.
And the partner's unusual interest in the container.
The detective listened.
Then asked whether the garage's financial records were accessible.
The old mechanic nodded.
"They should be."
For a moment, he realized how little he actually knew about the business he'd owned for decades.
His partner handled the paperwork.
The bank accounts.
The contracts.
And most of the important correspondence.
The old mechanic could rebuild a complicated motorcycle engine without a manual.
But he couldn't explain the full structure of his own company's finances.
The realization embarrassed him.
Then the detective asked a question.
"Do you have independent access to the garage's records?"
He hesitated.
Finally, he answered.
"Not all of them."
She nodded.
Then recommended that he consult an attorney and preserve any records he was legally entitled to access.
The old mechanic agreed.
He wasn't going to let another financial mystery destroy his family.
The next morning, he returned to Iron Hollow with a different kind of purpose.
The shop was already open.
A younger mechanic was cleaning a carburetor.
Another was inspecting a motorcycle's electrical system.
And the senior engine builder stood near the rear workbench, drinking coffee from a chipped black mug.
The old mechanic entered quietly.
For several seconds, the men watched him.
Then the youngest mechanic approached.
"How's your boy?"
The owner smiled faintly.
"Alive."
The young man exhaled.
"Thank God."
The older engine builder set down his mug.
"How bad?"
The father explained the injuries.
He also told them the police were investigating the crash.
For a moment, the garage remained quiet.
Then one of the men asked whether they'd located the motorcycle.
The owner nodded.
"It's being examined."
The youngest mechanic looked toward the red Harley in the center bay.
Then spoke quietly.
"We'll get him back on two wheels when he's ready."
The old mechanic smiled.
For a moment, he remembered his son's childhood.