“We never went.” She shook her head. “There were two things Mr. Cobb hated with al his might. Doctors and fags. That’s what he cal ed, wel , you know.” She dug for another Kleenex, blew her nose again.

“It was like arguing with a cinder block. To his dying day Charlie Senior believed Charlie Junior just needed to toughen up. That’s what he was always tel ing him. Tough up, kid. Be a man. No one likes a girly boy. No one likes a pansy.” I looked at the boy in the photo, and thought of cool guys shoving geeks in the hal s at school. Of kids taking lunch money from smal er kids. Of loudmouthed bul ies picking at flaws and frailties, making others bleed like unhealed scabs. Of kids taunting, tormenting, persecuting until their victims final y give up on themselves.

I felt anger, frustration, and sadness.

“After Charlie Junior left home he decided to live as a female,” I guessed.

She nodded.

“I’m not sure exactly when he switched, but that’s just what he did. He”—she struggled for the proper pronoun—“shevisited once, but Charlie Senior pitched a fit, told him not to come back until he’d straightened himself out. I hadn’t seen Charlie in over ten years when he”—more pronoun confusion—“when he went missing.”

Conspiratorial smile.

“I talked to him, though. Charlie Senior didn’t know that.”

“Often?”

“He’d cal about once a month. He was a park ranger, you know.”

“A Fish and Wildlife Service agent. That’s a very demanding profession.”

“Yes.”

“When was the last time you spoke with Charlie Junior?”

“It was early December, five years ago. I got a cal from a cop not long after, asking if I knew whereCharlottewas. That’s what Charlie Junior took to cal ing himself. Herself.”

“Was your son working on anything in particular at the time of his disappearance?”

“Something to do with people kil ing bears. He was pretty fired up about it. Said people were slaughtering bears by the bushel just to make a few bucks.

But, as I recal , he talked about it like it was something on the side, not an official assignment. Like it was something he just stumbled on. I think he was real y supposed to be looking out for turtles.”

“Did he mention any names?”

“I think he said something about a Chinese. But wait.” She tapped a bony finger to her lips, raised it in the air. “He said there was a guy in Lancaster and a guy in Columbia. Don’t know if that had to do with bears or turtles, but I remember wondering about it later, because Charlie Junior was working up in North Carolina, not down here.”

The clock cuckooed once, marking the half hour.

“More coffee?”

“No, thanks.”

She rose to refil her cup. I spoke to her back.