The look Kevin gave Remy made him hesitate for just a moment. Like an animal caught in a trap or facing down a gun. He had started to forget just how twitchy their sort could be. He wanted to break down that barrier, show him it was all right. Oh well, he could push and push. It was simply what he did, never taking no for an answer. He gave a gentle, still-charming smile at Kevin's startled look, then kept on walking. If Kevin wasn't going to make a big deal out of it, Remy wouldn't either.
Remy liked the owner well enough. He was an older man, very trusting and content in his life. His wife had died years ago, his children called from time to time, and he lived with a cat. He didn't think there was anything valuable enough to warrant having an aggressive dog, and he didn't bother with weapons because people just didn't go around robbing scrapyards, off the beaten path, all that often. Best to just enjoy life. He was in his office when the two approached, and Remy gave him a knowing smile and wave, so the owner didn't feel that he needed to tear himself away from the James Bond movie he was watching to go out and greet them.
Remy gave Kevin a wave and a nod as he went off digging for unsalvageable parts. The old man would probably be glad to just have them off his hands, have a little more room. Remy, though, needed to start his hunt for pieces he could use to make the motorcycle run again. He didn't want to lose sight of Kevin, but they both needed their own things. He felt like a bad ride out, since he was taking some time to not talk to the other boy, which just felt wrong for the social Cajun. But they had to do what they had to do, so Remy searched about for some motorcycles to start taking apart first, pull out pieces. He didn't mind getting dirty, though he shirked his usual trench coat early on, flinging it casually over the rear view mirror of a car poking out of a pile. His scavenger hunt took some time due to the precise pieces that he needed, and he constantly made his way over once or twice to check on Kevin, though he didn't try very hard at conversation.
It took over an hour for him to find the last piece he needed, stowing it in a canvas bag. He went to seek out Kevin, see if the kid had finished - he hoped he hadn't made him wait too long. "How ya doin', homme?" he called out as he found Kevin once more. He had the satchel over one shoulder and his trench coat casually draped over the other.