For the first time since she’d entered the garage, Ace felt his interest sharpen.
The distinction mattered.
A struggling engine could lose power for many reasons.
A machine that stopped instantly often suggested an interruption involving ignition, electrical control, or the system responsible for allowing the engine to continue running.
The mechanics already understood that.
But Emma wasn’t asking whether they understood it.
She was asking whether they’d treated that particular behavior as the most important clue.
Ace rested one hand against the handlebar.
“What are you thinking?”
Emma hesitated.
“I don’t know yet.”
A mechanic laughed under his breath.
“Finally, something we agree on.”
Ace turned toward him.
The word wasn’t loud.
It didn’t need to be.
The mechanic stopped talking.
Emma looked briefly surprised.
She was accustomed to adults questioning her ability, but she hadn’t expected the owner of such an expensive Harley to silence a room on her behalf.
Ace returned his attention to her.
“You said you wanted to hear it.
You’ve heard it twice.”
Emma looked at the diagnostic equipment.
“Can I ask what you’ve already changed?”
The atmosphere shifted again.
Several mechanics exchanged glances, and one of them gestured toward the open parts boxes.
The answer, apparently, was going to be a long one.
The first mechanic approached the Harley and began explaining everything they’d tried.
He described the sensors they’d tested and replaced.
He pointed toward components they’d removed for inspection, mentioned electrical readings that appeared normal, and explained why the engine should have continued running.
Another mechanic interrupted him to clarify a detail.
Then a third joined the conversation.
Before long, the garage sounded less like a repair shop and more like a room full of men defending their professional reputations.