The Judge Asked For The Amendment Garrett Could Not Produce

The driver stopped beside us and lowered his window.

"Switchback? Eleven bike frames?"

June showed him the order. She asked for his dispatcher's number and spoke to the dispatcher on speaker while the driver read his pickup sheet.

The booking had been made Thursday. Garrett had never canceled it.

"I'm not getting mixed up in this," the driver said.

"You aren't being asked to," June told him. "Please record that the pickup was canceled before loading."

He made a note, took a picture of the court's case number, and left with an empty truck.

Garrett stood inside the open door.

"It was just storage," he said.

June asked him to preserve the booking and all messages with the carrier.

He looked at the clerk's clipboard. Then he let us in.

We spent three hours making the inventory. The clerk recorded where each item sat and who claimed it. I checked every frame for fresh damage without starting any work. All eleven were there.

Luis's red frame had been wrapped in a moving blanket with no tag on it.

I fitted a new tag through a bolt hole and wrote his full name beside its number.

On Tuesday, Garrett arrived at court with a lawyer named Owen Wren. Owen carried a slim folder and looked as if he had spent the weekend learning bad news.

Garrett wore a dark suit. He waved to someone across the hall, then realized he did not know the man and lowered his hand.

Inside, June asked for access to be restored under the operating agreement and for rules to protect the customers while the case continued.

Owen said Garrett had become the practical head of the business.

"Mr. Eze was focused on fabrication," he said. "My client handled the commercial side."

The judge turned a page.

"Was there an amendment to this agreement?"

"Not a signed written amendment."

"A transfer of the sixty percent interest?"

"No completed transfer."

Garrett leaned toward his lawyer. Owen touched the edge of the table, and Garrett sat back.

June entered the ledger with the invoices and bank records that supported it. I explained how the tools had become company property in exchange for my share. Then we turned to the frame register.

"Why keep this separately?" June asked.

"So a frame never lost the name of the person waiting for it."

She asked about the seven deposits and four repair tickets. I answered from the entries instead of guessing.

Owen asked whether I could make a mistake in a notebook.

"Yes," I said.

He paused.

"Then your entries aren't certain."

"That's why I kept the receipts and signed orders. You can check them."

He asked whether unpaid balances meant the new frames were still ours.

June pointed the court to the title clause. The judge read it, then asked Owen whether Garrett disputed the signatures on those customer orders.

He did not.

From my chair, I could see a patch of dust on my work boots. I had cleaned them before court and missed the seam beside the sole. Garrett's shoes shone beneath the table. For once, that difference did not make me feel as though I had come dressed for the wrong room.

The credit union submitted its inspection report through its lawyer. The report excluded all eleven frames. It valued the eligible used shop equipment at about $18,000, far below the purchase cost and the total Garrett had claimed for collateral.

No one pretended my old receipts could make used tools worth more than a buyer would pay.

The judge continued the protection order. He directed Garrett to provide keys and records and stop blocking my management duties under the agreement while the case proceeded. Customer property could be released by a written process, with its condition recorded. The shop's own major assets stayed put.

The debt and damages claims still needed review.

Outside the courtroom, Owen told June he would work on a record transfer. Garrett watched the floor.

At the shop that afternoon, I used a new key. The gold rug had a pale rectangle where the display stand had sat.

I hung up my coat, put on my apron, and checked Luis's bridge. After the other checks, I tapped the tube. A small clean note filled the bay.

It did not clear the loan or finish the case. It did tell me I could release that repair after the paperwork was signed.

Over the next two days, we returned the four repair bikes to their owners. The seven build customers chose whether to finish with me or take their frames elsewhere. All seven chose to stay, with new dates in writing.

Then the bookkeeper June had hired to review the bank records sent her first report.

At the top was a transfer of $14,500 into an account Garrett had never listed in our books.