"The Two Men Who Followed Your Motorcycle Are Outside," the Boy Warned, Until the Hells Angel's Asked, "Did They See You Come Inside?"

"The Two Men Who Followed Your Motorcycle Are Outside," the Boy Warned, Until the Hells Angel's Asked, "Did They See You Come Inside?"

Chapter 11

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Hollis gave her a small nod. She gave him one back. Neither of them said a word.

The old man in the wool coat had his paper folded and his tea finished and his coat buttoned, and he stood up and put money on the counter and said, "Night, Renée. Night, Dale," and walked out into the rain, and the bell over the door rang behind him, and Hollis watched through the window as he crossed the lot to an old Ford Ranger and climbed in and sat there with the dome light on. He did not start the engine. After a minute the dome light went off. He still did not start the engine.

Hollis had no idea if the old man had seen anything, or if he just liked to sit in his truck in the rain. Either way, Hollis liked him.

"Excuse me," he said, and stood up, and walked to the counter, and sat down on the stool next to Dale.

Renée looked at him. "You need something, hon? More coffee?"

"Sure," Hollis said. "And whatever he's having, put it on mine."

Dale turned his head and looked at him. Up close he had pale blue eyes and a nose that had been broken at least once and a scar through his left eyebrow. He was not a stupid man. Hollis could see that right away. There was a carefulness in him.

"That's all right," Dale said. "I got it."

"I insist," Hollis said. "I knew your father."

He watched the words land. Dale did not move. His face did not change. But his hand on the coffee mug went still in a particular way, and Hollis knew he had guessed right.

"You've got his shoulders," Hollis said. "And his eyebrows. I didn't see it at first. Ray Rusk. Out of Erie. He had a place on the east side, by the bayfront, and a boy named Dale who was about eight years old the last time I saw him, and who used to sit on the gas tank of Ray's Shovelhead in the parking lot of the clubhouse on Parade Street and make engine noises. That you?"

Renée had gone very still at the coffee station. The trucker woman across the room had stopped pretending to look out the window.

Dale Rusk turned his mug a quarter turn on the counter. "My dad's been dead fourteen years," he said.

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"The Two Men Who Followed Your Motorcycle Are Outside," the Boy Warned, Until the Hells Angel's Asked, "Did They See You Come Inside?"

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