The interior looked better than I’d imagined, given the exterior. The bar itself was polished wood and the floor had been redone recently in that fake oak flooring that actually looks pretty good. The tables and booths were clean. The décor was definitely Hunting Lodge, with deer heads and large fish mounted on the walls, interspersed with mirrors and old license plates. The jukebox was wailing country and western.

I was pleased with the place, and I smiled. Hollis asked if I wanted one of the small booths or a table, and I picked a booth. He asked me what I wanted to drink, and when I said a Coors would be fine, he went to the bar and returned with two longnecks. He also brought two napkins, one of which he solemnly placed on the heavily polyurethaned wood in front of me before he put my mug on it. I suppressed a smile.

So much for the preliminaries.

“What do you like to do?” he asked. “While you’re traveling around the country?”

Not the opening I’d expected. “I like to read,” I said. “Sometimes, we try to catch a movie. I run. I watch television. I like to watch the WNBA games, since I played a little basketball in high school. I plan my dream house.”

“Tell me about your dream house,” Hollis said, smiling.

“Okay,” I said, slowly. This was something I didn’t talk about too often. “It will have to be off the beaten road, of course. I want it to look like a log cabin, but without the inconveniences of a real log cabin. I found a plan on the Internet, and I bought it. But of course, I want to alter it a little.”

“Of course,” he said, taking a sip of beer.

“It would be two bedrooms and a study, with a family room. There’d be a kitchen here, with the washroom right off of it.” I was looking down at the table, drawing with my finger. “Around back, there’d be a porte cochere for the cars, so you could carry groceries right into the kitchen without getting wet. There’s a deck off the right side of the kitchen, see? Or maybe I’d put it off the family room. That’s where the fireplace will be, and you could keep your firewood on the deck. And you could put your gas grill on the deck. For steaks.”

“Who lives in that house with you?”

I looked up at him, startled. “Well, of course—” I began. Then I shut my mouth.

“Surely your brother will get married somewhere along the line?” Hollis asked gently, his eyes steady and his face calm. “You might want to marry, yourself. Cut down on your traveling, some.”

“Yes, that might happen,” I said after a moment. “What about you?”