“Professional opinion.”
Mason's stomach tightened.
There was something here.
Not enough.
But something.
Eli tugged Sarah’s coverall pocket.
“I’m hungry.”
The adults stopped.
Sarah looked down.
Of course.
The boy had been standing through grief, motorcycle resurrection, and adult suspicion.
Still four.
She crouched.
“Crackers?”
“Yes.”
Mason pointed toward the office.
“Top drawer.”
Eli knew exactly where.
Sarah took his hand.
They walked away.
Mason waited until the office door closed.
Then looked at Victor.
“Now.”
Victor crossed his arms.
“What?”
Mason stepped closer.
“Do not leave.”
Victor laughed.
“You cannot hold me here.”
“No.”
Mason nodded.
“You can absolutely walk out that door.”
“Then I will.”
“But I'm preserving the bike exactly where it is, pulling security footage, and calling Paul Michaels.”
Victor’s expression altered.
Small.
Mason caught it.
“Why police?”
“Because if somebody interfered with Sarah's property to manipulate a sale, that's not a shop disagreement.”
Victor stared.
“You've lost your mind.”
“Possible.”
Mason pointed toward the ceiling camera.
“But cameras are calmer than I am.”
Victor looked up.
That was the first moment Mason became nearly certain.
Not proof.
Recognition.
Victor had forgotten the camera.
Hale Motor Works had installed a new system three months earlier after a burglary.
Old cameras had covered entrances.
New cameras covered each bay.
Victor knew the old layout.
Maybe not the new one.
Ray looked toward the camera too.
Then Victor.
The garage door felt farther away.
Victor picked up his folder.
“This is ridiculous.”
Mason moved aside.
“Door's open.”
Victor stopped.
Mason continued.
“If you're clean, footage wastes ten minutes.”
“And if I leave?”
“Footage still exists.”
Victor stared at him.
Then smiled.
Too late.
“Fine.”
“Pull your little movie.”
Ray went to the office.
Mason remained with the motorcycle.
Sarah returned holding Eli and a packet of crackers.
“What’s happening?”
“Checking cameras.”
Her face went pale.
“Because of Victor?”
Mason looked toward Eli.
“Because something was touched.”
Sarah understood the wording.
She nodded.
No accusations in front of the boy.
Good.
Eli held out a cracker.
“Mason?”
He took it.
“Thanks.”
Victor watched.
Something about the tenderness irritated him.
“Unbelievable.”
Mason looked at him.
“What now?”
Victor pointed vaguely.
“All of this.”
“The suit.”
“The kid.”
“The sentimental motorcycle.”
“You've turned a repair shop into a church.”
Mason chewed the cracker.
Then said:
“Maybe you need one.”
Ray shouted from the office:
“Mason.”
Everything stopped.