Bob spoke again and broke my reverie. “If you want my advice, Kennesaw—unsolicited though it is—drop the whole thing. Tell the woman the police know what they are doing, and leave it alone. If that girl did kill herself, it’s sad enough. And if someone pushed her off the bridge, it’s even worse. But no matter what the reason, that girl had gotten herself into something mighty ugly. And if you fool with it, some of it’s liable to get on you, too.”

I took a pull on my beer before setting the bottle on the table and responding to my friend’s words of concern.

“I hear you, Bob. And that’s good advice.”

“But you won’t be taking it, will you?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No, I guess not. I promised the mother I’d look into it.”

Bob took a deep breath and slowly blew it out as he looked across the water and off into the distance. Looking back at me again after a few seconds, he had a wry smile on his face.

“Didn’t think so,” he said, shaking his head. “Sheriff up there is the son of an old schoolmate of mine. Want me to call him and say you’ll be dropping by to see him sometime soon? His name is Anson Zimmer. I’ve never met him, but I hear he’s a good man.”

“I’d appreciate that, Bob,” I replied.

“Okay,” he responded. “Just do me one favor. Stay out of there after sundown. Even the local cops don’t patrol the back roads after dark. And strangers have been known to get lost in those swamps.”

“I’ll do what I can, Bob. But I’m no more afraid of the dark, or what’s in it, than you are. And you might not know it to look at me, but I’m a pretty good navigator.”

“I guess I am starting to sound like an old woman, huh?” he said with a self-deprecating grin.

“No, partner. You sound like a friend,” I returned.

At that instant the shade cast by the building’s roof engulfed us in its shadow. And as a chill breeze blew across the waterfront, I saw Bob shiver slightly before zipping up his jacket.

“I think it’s time I headed for the house,” he said as he got to his feet. “I want Fran to think I’ve been sitting home alone all day, reading the Good Book, instead of hanging around with derelicts and ne’er-do-wells.”

I laughed as I stood and helped Bob sling the pouch carrying his oxygen bottle over his shoulder. As we walked through the building, Tyrone came around from behind the bar and opened the door for us. He put his hand on Bob’s shoulder as we passed by and said, “You call me when you get home.”