I only know about one guy from the old team here in Miami, he said, after a quick and savage glance at me. Oscar Acosta. Saw him at Publix two years ago. We could run him down. He pointed his chin at Deborah. Two other names I can think of. You look ’em up, see if they’re here. He spread his hands. About all I got. I could maybe call some old buddies in Virginia, but no telling what that might stir up. He snorted. Anyway, take them two days to decide what I was really asking and what they ought to do about it.

So what do we do? Deborah said. We stake this guy out? The one you saw? Or do we talk to him?

Doakes shook his head. He remembered me. I can talk to him. You try to watch him, he’ll know it and probably disappear. He looked at his watch. Quarter of three. Oscar be home in a couple of hours. You-all wait for my call. And then he gave me his 150-watt I’m-watching-you smile, and said, Why don’t you go wait with your pretty fiancée? And he got up and walked out, leaving us with the check.

Deborah stared at me. Fiancée? she said.

It’s not really definite, I said.

You’re engaged!?

I was going to tell you, I said.

When? On your third anniversary?

When I know how it happened, I said. I still don’t really believe it.

She snorted. I don’t either. She stood up. Come on. I’ll take you back to work. Then you can go wait with your fiancée, she said. I left some money on the table and followed meekly.

Vince Masuoka was passing by in the hall when Deborah and I got off the elevator. Shalom, boy-chick, he said. How’s by you?

He’s engaged, Deborah said before I could speak. Vince looked at her like she had said I was pregnant.

He’s what? he said.

Engaged. About to be married, she said.

Married? Dexter? His face seemed to struggle with finding the right expression, which was not an easy task since he always seemed to be faking it, one of the reasons I got along with him; two artificial humans, like plastic peas in a real pod. He finally settled on what looked like delighted surprise—not very convincing, but still a sound choice. Mazel tov! he said, and gave me an awkward hug.

Thank you, I said, still feeling completely baffled by the whole thing and wondering if I would actually have to go through with it.

Well then, he said, rubbing his hands together, we can’t let this go unpunished. Tomorrow night at my house?

For what? I asked.