“Everything is properly registered,” Marcus said. “Papers are in the saddlebag.”
Wade stepped forward, hand dropping near his holster.
“Don’t reach for anything.”
Marcus turned his palms outward.
“I wasn’t.”
Stroud leaned toward the sidecar.
“What about the dog? That animal restrained right? Looks like a safety violation to me.”
Blue wagged his tail once and tried to sniff the deputy’s sleeve.
Stroud jerked back.
“Keep that thing away from me.”
Marcus’s eyes hardened for half a second.
Then softened again.
“His harness is bolted to the frame,” he said. “Better secured than most passengers in this county.”
Wade laughed under his breath.
Stroud did not.
He moved closer, lowering his voice.
“You got a mouth on you for an old man riding around on a bike he probably can’t explain.”
“I can explain it.”
“I’m sure you can.” Stroud tapped the gas tank with two fingers. “Custom parts. High-value build. Could be stolen components. Could be drug money. Could be anything.”
Marcus looked at him calmly.
“Or it could be mine.”
Stroud’s smile vanished.
“You people always think paperwork changes what common sense can see.”
The words hung between them.
A white woman at the pump looked over, then quickly looked away. The cashier inside the gas station suddenly became very interested in wiping the counter. Wade watched Marcus’s face, waiting for anger.
Marcus gave him none.
That disappointed them.
“Step off the vehicle,” Stroud ordered.
Marcus looked at him.
“On what charge?”
“Suspicion of transporting stolen property.”
“You have no basis for that.”
“I got eyes.”
“And what do your eyes see, Deputy?”
Stroud stepped closer.
“A man who doesn’t belong on something this valuable.”
There it was again.
Clearer this time.
The kind of sentence men later claimed had been misunderstood.
Marcus stepped off the bike.
Slowly.
Carefully.
He unclipped Blue’s harness and helped the old hound down from the sidecar. The dog pressed against his leg, uneasy now, sensing the shift in the air. Marcus kept one hand on Blue’s head.
“Where are you taking it?” Marcus asked.
“Impound lot across the street,” Wade said, grinning. “Convenient, isn’t it?”
Stroud took the bike without permission.