Big Dave looked toward the basement stairs. “Gravel needs to see that.”
As though the old building had heard him, footsteps sounded above them. Gravel had been outside speaking with members of the riding club about Saturday's route, and he now appeared at the bottom of the staircase, his white beard catching the light from Rusty's work lamp.
“What did you find?”
Rusty turned.
For several seconds, he couldn't answer.
Then he held out the envelope.
Gravel stepped closer. His expression changed the moment he recognized the handwriting. He took the envelope in his enormous hands and stared at the name.
“Arty.”
Mara stood beside Leo.
“It's addressed to you.”
Gravel swallowed.
“May I?”
She nodded. “Please.”
He carefully opened the envelope and unfolded the letter.
The basement became silent as he began reading.
Marcus,
If you're holding this letter, I suppose Dutch has finally managed to confuse every mechanic in California. I hope he's there with you, complaining about the price of parts and insisting that his motorcycle was running perfectly yesterday.
Gravel laughed once, but the sound broke halfway through.
He continued.
The spare components in this case were made when we completed the last major engine modifications. They are not ordinary replacement parts. I've left the drawings, measurements, and notes so a qualified machinist can check them properly before anybody attempts another repair.
Please don't let Dutch rush the work. He'll tell you the motorcycle has to be running by morning, even if nobody has anywhere important to go.
Rusty smiled sadly.
Gravel wiped his eyes with the back of one hand.
There's also a second ignition circuit that we installed because Dutch was worried about theft. It was his idea. If the electrical behavior seems impossible, don't assume everything is broken until the professionals have checked the custom wiring against my records.
Now for the part that matters.
Gravel stopped.
His eyes moved toward Leo.
Then he continued reading.
I don't know how much longer I'll have. The doctors are trying, and Mara keeps telling me to stay hopeful. I'm doing my best. But I've started thinking about what happens when I'm not around to answer questions.
Leo loves motorcycles because I love them. Sometimes I worry he'll confuse my love of machines with my love for him.
I don't want that.