"I'm trying to clean up some old photographs so I can view the faces."

"Whose?"

"Savannah Osprey is in one shot. And the man who was kil ed last week."

"The guy who was stabbed in jail?"

"No. The person the police think was his victim."

"Awesome."

He moved into the room.

"Can I see?"

"Wel , I guess there's nothing in the way of sensitive information here. As long as you promise not to discuss these things with anyone but me, you can pul up a chair."

I brought up the Myrtle Beach photo and indicated Savannah and Cherokee Desjardins.

"Man. That dude looks like a reject from the WWF."

"World Wrestling Federation?"

"World Wildlife Fund." He pointed at Savannah. "She's sure no ole lady."

"No. But it's not uncommon for bikers to drug young girls and hold them against their wil ."

"And she's no beach bunny. Man, her skin's the color of a bedsheet."

I had a thought.

"I want you to take a look at something."

I closed the picnic photo and opened the police-check photo.

Kit leaned in and studied the scene.

"Is that the same dude?" He indicated Cherokee.

"Yes."

"We stil in Dixie?"

"South Carolina."

"Looks like a road bust."

His eyes moved across the group, then locked onto the cycle at the periphery.

"Holy shit. Sorry. When was this taken?"

"That's unclean Why?"

"That's the same chopped hog we saw in the funeral picture." My pulse stepped up.

"Are you sure?"

"Auntie T, that is the sweetest piece of Milwaukee iron I have ever seen. You could real y ride the edge on those wheels."

"That's why I was asking about the other picture."

"Did you find it?"

"No."

"Doesn't matter. That's the same bike. How can you be sure?"

"Can you zoom it up?"

I magnified that part of the photo.

"Jesus. That is five hundred pounds of thunder" "Tel me how you know it's the same bike."

"Like I said before, it's an old FLH, a police touring cycle that's been stripped and customized. That's no big deal. But it's the way he did the chop that's so bitching.?'

One by one he again pointed out the bike's wonders. "This dude wanted a truly raw machine, so he changed the power-to-weight ratio.

His finger touched the front of the bike.

"He lengthened the wheel base and raised the front end by instal ing longer front forks. Man, those puppies must be twenty inches over stock. He probably cut out a section of the neck of the frame. You've real y got to know your shit to pul that off."

"Why?"

"If you screw it up the bike wil split and you'l find yourself eating cement at high speed."

He indicated the handlebars.

"He used dog bones, steel struts to raise the handlebars."

"Mm."