Standing at the sink, I survey the kitchen, which is pretty clean, considering. Annie’s lost in her computer. Looking past her to the den, I see Mia reading her book on the sofa. I may be wrong, but there appears to be a trace of a smile on her lips. Though I watch her for some time, she never looks up at me. She merely licks one finger and turns the page, the faint smile still in place.

About ten thirty p.m., Serenity texts me that she wants to drive down to Athens Point to see Cleotha Booker in the morning, if I have time. So . . . she wangled that private information out of Carl without any trouble. I text her that I do have time, if we leave early. She sends another text saying that she’s talking to Keisha Harvin’s brothers and won’t be back for some time yet. It’s then I realize that I’ve been waiting for her to return so that we can discuss the Athens Point issue as well as what happened at the Devine house.

Once I know Tee will be late, I decide to go upstairs and try to get some sleep. As I say good night to the girls, Annie looks up from the TV and says, “Is Serenity coming back tonight?”

So I’m not the only one waiting for Tee’s return. “Yes, but not for a while yet.”

My daughter looks worried. “Is she okay?”

“Oh, yeah. Carl will take good care of her.”

Mia glances up at me then, but she makes no comment.

“I’ll see ya’ll in the morning,” I say.

“’Night, Dad.”

At the foot of the staircase, I realize I’m not really ready to sleep. Instead, I text Tim and ask if he’d like to take a walk with me. He’s been doing some paperwork on one of the cots in the basement, and he’s happy for a chance to get some exercise in the night air. The only caveat: he insists that I put on my bulletproof vest—with the ceramic inserts—which goes a long way toward turning our outing into a good walk spoiled.

As we start toward the river, I spy an old man walking his dog in the distance, where Commerce Street meets Orleans. The animal seems to be pulling its master along, impatient at being constrained by age or infirmity. Something about the old man looks familiar, but I say nothing to Tim, who is also watching the pair. Natchez is a small town, and if I don’t know the dog walker well, I’ve certainly seen him many times in my life.