Bobo knew what she meant the minute the words left her mouth. “Feej, I don’t have any idea how that old Colt got out there. I did take it out target shooting, because I’d never fired a gun like that, but I brought it back to the shop. Maybe I didn’t lock it back into the case? Maybe I left it in the truck? But I know you know I didn’t kill Aubrey.”

“I do know that,” Fiji said steadily. She suppressed the awful split second of doubt she’d experienced. “And Olivia knows that, too.”

“Even if Lemuel thought I’d killed her, he’d back me,” said Bobo, not as if he exactly approved of that.

Fiji now had had time to think of a hundred questions about Olivia and Lemuel and their landlord protection program, but she kept them to herself. It was not the time; just as it wasn’t the time for her strongest impulse, leading Bobo to her bedroom so she could distract him from all these worries. It was too soon, he was still struggling with his conflicting feelings about Aubrey . . . that was what she told herself.

But really, she didn’t do it because she feared he would say no.

16

In the days that followed the first and only Annual Picnic, the residents of Midnight resumed trundling along their accustomed paths and pursuits, though they all (except Grady, Rasta, and possibly Mr. Snuggly) felt they were operating under a cloud. Manfred certainly felt that way, and when he looked at the faces of the other townspeople, he could read that in their faces, too.

Bobo opened Midnight Pawn on Thursday morning. It was garbage pickup day, and he wheeled his garbage can to the curb along with Olivia’s, which Lemuel shared. Bobo took the time to gather all the newspapers that had collected in his driveway. Manfred watched through his front window as his landlord resumed his life, and he was glad.

Manfred saw the other denizens of Midnight at Home Cookin, which had a few more customers than usual, thanks to reporters, law enforcement, and the idly curious. Sometimes the residents could not sit at their accustomed table.

Teacher told Manfred he’d made some extra money changing tires that had gotten punctured on the rocks over by the riverbed.

Both Fiji and Chuy made grocery runs to Davy. Fiji got the items on the Rev’s short list and delivered them to his little bare house, and in her own kitchen she cooked between helping store customers, so she could take Bobo chicken and dumplings and some seasoned green beans. Another night, Chuy cooked Tex-Mex with Joe’s assistance, and they invited Manfred and Bobo to come to dinner.