Evan nodded.
"The wire is heating up."
The older mechanic shook his head.
"No way."
Evan pointed.
"Look."
The man crouched.
His expression changed.
The wire had been rubbing against a metal bracket.
Every time the engine vibrated, the harness moved.
Every time the temperature increased, the damaged insulation became softer.
Eventually, the wire touched the frame.
The engine computer interpreted the electrical interruption as a catastrophic fault.
The bike shut itself down.
When everything cooled, the wire separated again.
The motorcycle restarted.
Marcus stared.
"That's it?"
"Maybe."
"Maybe?"
Evan smiled.
"I'm not going to tell you I fixed it until I test it."
Marcus looked at the others.
Nobody spoke.
Evan repaired the damaged section.
He rerouted the harness.
He replaced the connector.
Then he stepped away.
Marcus climbed onto the motorcycle.
He turned the key.
The dashboard illuminated.
Everyone watched.
Marcus pressed the starter.
The engine roared.
The sound filled the garage.
Several bikers smiled.
Marcus let the engine idle.
Thirty seconds.
One minute.
Five minutes.
Ten.
Nothing happened.
He revved the engine.
Still nothing.
Marcus turned it off.
Silence returned.
He looked at Evan.
"You did it."
Evan wiped his hands on a rag.
"Looks like it."
Marcus reached for the envelope.
He held it out.
Evan didn't take it.
"That's yours."
Evan looked at the money.
"Five thousand?"
Marcus nodded.
"You earned it."
Evan hesitated.
Then something unexpected happened.
One of the older mechanics stepped forward.
"Wait."
Everyone looked at him.
He pointed at the motorcycle.
"That wasn't the only problem."
Evan looked at him.
"What do you mean?"
The mechanic reached into the engine compartment.
He pulled out another damaged wire.
It was partially stripped.
Evan's expression changed.
He crouched.
"That's not from heat."
The mechanic nodded.
"I know."
Marcus stepped closer.
"What are you saying?"
The mechanic looked at him.
"Someone damaged it."
The garage went silent.
Evan stared at the wire.
Then he looked at Marcus.
Marcus's face had gone hard.
"Who?"
Nobody answered.
But everyone suddenly remembered something.
The motorcycle had not arrived at the garage broken.
It had arrived after being parked outside Marcus's house.
And for several minutes that afternoon, nobody had been watching it.
Someone had touched the bike.
Someone who knew what they were doing.
Someone who wanted Marcus's motorcycle to fail.
Maybe worse.
Evan slowly stood.
"This wasn't an accident."
Marcus closed his hand around the envelope.
"No."
His voice was quiet.
"It wasn't."
The Man in the Gray Jacket
The next morning, Evan returned to Black River Customs expecting Marcus to be there.
He wasn't.
Instead, Marcus's motorcycle stood alone beneath the lights.
The envelope containing five thousand dollars sat on the workbench.
Evan looked at it.
Then he looked toward the office.
"Marcus?"
No answer.
He opened the office door.
Empty.
The phone rang.
Evan answered.
"Black River Customs."
A pause.
Then Marcus spoke.
"Don't touch the motorcycle."
Evan frowned.
"Why?"
"I need you to listen carefully."
Marcus sounded different.
More serious than usual.
"Someone broke into my garage last night."
Evan's stomach tightened.
"Was anything stolen?"
"No."
"Then what?"
Another pause.
"They left a message."
"What kind?"
Marcus didn't answer immediately.
"They wrote your name on the wall."
Evan froze.
"What?"
"Your name."
"Why?"
"I don't know."
"Where are you?"
"Police station."
Evan looked toward the front door.
Two men were standing outside.
Neither wore police uniforms.
They were simply watching the garage.
Evan lowered his voice.
"Marcus."
"Yes?"
"There are two men outside."
Silence.
Then Marcus said:
"Lock the door."
Evan did.
"Don't let them in."
Evan looked through the window.
One of the men raised his hand.
He pointed directly at him.
Then smiled.
The phone went dead.
Evan stepped away from the window.
His heart was beating faster.
He had repaired motorcycles his entire life.
He understood machines.
He understood engines.
He understood electrical systems.
But people were different.
People could lie.
People could threaten.
People could hurt someone for reasons that made no sense.
A knock sounded on the garage door.
Three slow knocks.
Evan didn't move.
Another three.
Then a voice.
"Open up."
Evan recognized it.