“Nah, just toning,” Joe said. “Or Bobo could teach you some karate.” The conversation drifted to Jackie Chan and went sideways to Chow Yun Fat, while tangentially brushing on the injuries action stars incurred, and from that to doping exposés. Olivia threw in a comment from time to time.

Of all the citizens of Midnight, Olivia seemed the largest question mark. Even if he imagined that she had met and fallen in love or lust with Lemuel and moved here to be with him (and that was by no means a certainty), how could she resign herself to such solitude and isolation? Olivia was so clearly a citizen of a bigger world. Maybe that was why she traveled so often.

As Manfred walked home, he thought, Every time I take a step forward in knowing these people, I end up with more questions. How about Joe and Chuy? Granted, gay couples in a state like Texas wouldn’t have too easy a time of it. But Manfred knew that in any large city—and Texas had a few of those—there were equally large gay communities. Why hadn’t Joe and Chuy settled in one of those? Really, how many people were going to come to a hole in the road like Midnight to buy antiques? Or to get their nails done?

Once these questions had occurred to him, he thought the oddest thing of all was that he’d never set them side by side before.

Fiji had texted him this morning. “Tell Bobo about the vision,” was all she’d said. He’d glimpsed her setting off with Bobo the day before, so she could have told Bobo all about what he’d seen; but Manfred knew it was his responsibility, as reluctant as he was to relay an emotional message.

He’d been wrong not to do it before.

There was no point in putting it off. He turned in at the pawnshop, went up the steps, opened the big door. Bobo emerged from the gloom of the back of the shop, like the Cheshire cat; first Manfred could see his smile, then the rest of him.

After they’d exchanged greetings, Manfred said, “I have something to tell you. When I went to Fiji’s class the other night . . .” And he relayed what he had seen in the vision, though he didn’t dwell on the grisly details of Aubrey’s appearance. “So that’s what she said, short and complete. She wanted you to know she really loved you,” he concluded.

Bobo looked as if he’d been hit between the eyes. “You’re not making this up?” he asked, and you could tell he was praying that Manfred was not.

“I would never lie to you about a vision,” Manfred said. He liked and respected Bobo too much.