“People talk to Russell.”
“They say, ‘Arthur would’ve wanted this’ or ‘Arthur used to do that.’”
“But if I ask, they say I’m too young.”
Jim lowered himself again so they were eye level.
“I’m not saying you’re too young.”
“Then what?”
“I’m saying this is yours and your mother’s together.”
Leo blinked hard.
Jim continued gently.
“And I don’t want to take her place in your family just because I happen to know something.”
That landed differently.
Leo looked down.
Russell quietly called Claire Hayes.
She answered on the second ring.
Russell explained only that they had found something connected to Arthur.
Her tone changed instantly.
“What?”
“You should come down.”
“Is Leo okay?”
“He’s fine.”
“Russell.”
“He’s fine.”
“Then tell me.”
Jim took the phone.
“Claire.”
Silence.
Jim’s face told Russell that Claire knew his voice.
“Jim Mercer.”
Another silence.
Then Jim said, “We found Arthur’s tag inside Dutch’s FXR.”
Leo watched him.
Jim listened.
His expression tightened.
“Yeah.”
A longer pause.
Then:
“No.”
Another pause.
Jim looked at Leo.
“He found it.”
Claire said something that made Jim close his eyes.
“All right.”
He handed the phone back.
“She’s coming.”
Leo stared.
“She knows?”
Jim nodded.
“Some of it.”
“What part?”
Jim sat again.
“The part I wasn’t sure I had the right to tell.”
Leo looked at the sentence on the back.
“My boy brought her home.”
“Dutch wrote that?”
“Yes.”
“Who’s ‘my boy’?”
Jim did not answer.
Leo’s face changed.
He looked at Jim.
Then the engraving.
D.S.
A.H.
Dutch Sullivan.
Arthur Hayes.
“My dad?”
Jim swallowed.
“Yes.”
Leo’s forehead tightened.
“He called Dad his boy?”
Jim looked toward the garage.
“That’s what your mother needs to explain.”
Leo did not like the answer.
But this time he accepted it.
They returned to the repair bay.
Nobody asked questions.
One look at Jim prevented it.
Frank pointed toward the engine.
“Timing?”
Leo looked at the motorcycle.
Then at the tag.
He carefully placed it on a clean rag.
“Twelve degrees.”
Frank nodded.
This time there was no sarcasm.
“Show me exactly.”
For the next forty minutes, the eight-year-old did not repair the motorcycle.
That mattered.
He directed.
Frank turned fasteners.
Russell measured.
Another mechanic rotated the engine.
Leo explained what his father had taught him.
The modified plate.
The hand-cut spacer.
The offset reference.
A small advance limitation Arthur had added so the engine would not over-advance under load.
Frank questioned him twice.