“No,” Helen said. “Lee Roy’s been keeping me company.” She pointed to the corner of the carport, where a sixty-pound white-and-brown English bulldog lay on a fluffy khaki pillow snoring. “Haven’t you, boy?” Helen asked.

Lee Roy wagged his stubby tail and grunted. Then he went back to snoring.

“Yeah, he’s a barrel of laughs,” Bo said, smirking at the animal. Bo had inherited Lee Roy from the Professor. Despite the dog’s current state of being, he’d been a good and faithful companion.

“Here,” Helen said, grabbing one of the beer bottles and handing it to him. “Join me.”

Bo took it and popped the top. After a long sip, he grimaced. “Drinking the good stuff, I see.”

She snickered. “Our mutual friend Powell liked these. Thought I’d give them a try.”

Bo smiled. Powell Conrad was the district attorney of Tuscaloosa County and an old friend. Whom I haven’t seen since the Professor died, Bo thought, shaking his head and taking another sip of beer. He leaned against the hood of the Crown Vic and gazed down at Helen. “What brings you out here in the middle of the night, General?”

“Ennis Petrie was granted parole,” Helen said, grabbing a bottle from the carton and opening it.

Bo gripped the beer bottle tight and gazed down at the cement. “I know. There was a blurb about it in Sunday’s paper.”

Helen smiled. “You still read the newspaper?”

Bo smirked. “The online edition. When will he be released?”

“Already has,” Helen said. She took a sip of beer and then sighed. “Last Friday, a few hours after the ruling. Look, I’m sorry I didn’t call. I just didn’t want to bother you with the child-custody dispute still going on.”

Bo shook his head. “I’m sorry I wasn’t at the hearing.”

Helen plopped back down on the storage bin. “How did the custody trial go?”

“I lost,” Bo said, his voice soft. Rain now pounded the roof of the carport.

Helen grimaced but didn’t say anything.

If he was honest with himself, Bo didn’t think she looked all that surprised. And why should she be?

For at least a minute, Bo and Helen drank in silence, the only sound being the breathy hum of Lee Roy’s snoring. Finally, Bo cleared his throat. “Did Booker T. show up at Ennis’s hearing?”

Helen shook her head. “No. There was no family present. I tried to get him to come, but he’s been hard to reach.”

Bo cocked his head at her. “Really? What’s going on with Booker T.?”

She squinted at him. “You don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“He lost his farm. Bank foreclosed a couple months ago.” She frowned. “I would have thought for sure you knew about that. I assumed he’d probably asked you for money.”