Thirty riders arrived in three waves.
Headlights filled the parking lot.
A large man with a gray beard approached Walter.
“You good, Walt?”
“I'm good, Hollis.”
Walter pointed toward Casey.
“This young lady did most of the work.”
Hollis looked at her.
“Heard you handled six guys with a bicycle chain.”
Casey looked at Walter.
“Five and a half.”
Walter laughed.
“The old man got one for free.”
For the first time that night, Casey smiled.
The Envelope
Four hours later, Brody Kane was arrested.
The security footage showed everything.
The police also found evidence connecting him to an earlier assault.
This time, there were witnesses.
There was video.
There was nowhere to hide.
Three days later, an envelope arrived at the Marlo house.
There was no return address.
Inside was a cashier's check made out to Riverside General Hospital.
The amount was exactly $4,217.
Casey stared at it.
Her hands trembled.
A typed message was attached.
This isn't charity. Consider it back pay for thirty years of you not being born yet to fix my bike sooner.
Casey knew immediately who had sent it.
She called Walter.
“You paid the hospital bill.”
“I invested in good work.”
“I can't accept this.”
“You already did.”
“Mr. Doyle—”
“Casey.”
She stopped.
“You helped me when you didn't know my name.”
He paused.
“Let me help you when I do.”
She didn't know what to say.
Finally, she whispered:
“Thank you.”
Walter answered:
“Don't thank me yet. Come by the shop Monday.”
“Why?”
“Because you've got work to do.”
Doyle Custom Cycles
Doyle Custom Cycles operated out of an old converted barn at the edge of town.
Casey arrived Monday morning.
Walter handed her a wrench.
No ceremony.
No speech.
No special treatment.
“That's a stubborn transmission.”
Casey looked at the motorcycle.
“What's wrong with it?”
Walter smiled.
“That's what you're going to tell me.”
She spent the next six hours diagnosing the problem.
Walter watched from a distance.