"But you need to understand something."
"What?"
"If somebody's willing to accuse a kid to protect himself, he may be willing to do worse."
The president felt the warning settle heavily.
He remembered the lead mechanic's anger, the collector's sudden appearance, and the strange urgency surrounding the offers to buy the motorcycle. He had considered the possibility of financial fraud. He hadn't considered that the teenager might become the target of retaliation.
Now he was afraid he had underestimated the situation.
The third mechanic found the boy shortly after three.
He had volunteered to check several places near the river where people sometimes took shelter during bad weather. He wasn't sure what he would say if he found the teenager, and he wasn't comfortable approaching a frightened child alone. But when he noticed the olive-green jacket beneath the bus shelter, he parked nearby and called the family services coordinator before approaching.
The boy saw him immediately.
His body stiffened.
The mechanic stopped several feet away.
"Hey."
The teenager didn't answer.
"You okay?"
The boy stared at him.
"Did they send you?"
"People are worried."
The boy gave a bitter laugh.
"Because they think I stole something?"
"No."
The teenager opened his backpack.
"You want it back?"
The mechanic frowned.
"What?"
The boy held up the wrapped component.
"This thing. Somebody put it in my bag."
The mechanic's face changed.
He didn't reach for it.
He took a slow breath.
"Don't throw it away."
The boy's eyes narrowed.
"Why?"
"Because it may help show what happened."
The teenager looked confused.
The mechanic sat on the far end of the bench, leaving plenty of room between them. He explained that the club had discovered irregularities in the Shovelhead repairs and that the president was reviewing security footage. He didn't reveal every suspicion, but he made clear that the boy wasn't being treated as a thief.
The teenager listened without moving.
Finally, he asked, "Why should I believe you?"
The mechanic looked down.
"Because I saw something the first night, and I should've spoken up sooner."
The boy stared at him.
"What did you see?"
The mechanic hesitated.
"The lead mechanic hiding something near the workbench."
"What?"
"Something small. I think it was a bolt."
The teenager's breathing changed.
"The ground strap?"
"Maybe."
The mechanic looked toward the river.
"I didn't say anything right away because I was scared of losing my job."
The boy studied him.
"You were scared?"
The mechanic gave a tired smile.
"Yeah."
The teenager looked down at the component in his hand.
"Me too."
For a while, neither spoke.
Then the mechanic said, "The woman helping you with housing is on her way. She knows you're here."
The boy nodded slowly.
"Am I in trouble?"
"No."
"Are you sure?"