A Thursday. Danny had worked late at the shop. He was a diesel mechanic. Had his own garage on the south end of town. Good business. Honest work.
He called me around 8 PM. Said he was heading home. Route 9 was his usual road. Thirty miles of curves through the hills. He’d ridden it a thousand times.
At 8:47 PM, dispatch got a call. Single vehicle motorcycle continue reading …
