“Who are the men up there with him?”

“The guy in the brown coat I don’t know. The other is Herb Kowalsky.”

I looked at Allen. He studied the people who filled the room. You could tell he was making mental notes of what they wore, the expressions on their faces, the way they appeared to align themselves by where they stood or sat. An intensity I’d not seen in his face before marked his features, and there was something of the confidence and detachment I’d seen on the book jacket. Then the expression evaporated as quickly as it surfaced, as if he’d caught himself engaged in a habit not yet totally broken.

Walter Phillips stepped behind the lectern. For a few seconds he said nothing, just stared at his right hand as if waiting for someone to fill it with a gavel, because there were already some heated voices in the room he’d have to quiet. If Phillips was like most rangers, this must have appeared to be a dream appointment: a Wild and Scenic River, mountains, low population density. He probably hadn’t believed his luck when he’d gotten this assignment, especially young as he was. Right now he seemed anything but thrilled to be district ranger of Oconee National Forest. Phillips looked like a man who’d wandered into a minefield without a map.

He finally nodded at Myra Burrell, who’d been Will McDowell’s secretary and now worked for Phillips. She had a pen and notebook in her hand. His words were so soft people in the back didn’t hear him.

“My name is Walter Phillips,” he said, louder this time, loud enough to quiet the other voices. He looked at a sheet of paper that lay on the lectern and began to read. “I’m district ranger for the Oconee National Forest. The purpose of this meeting is to get community input concerning possible ways to recover the body of Ruth Kowalsky from the Tamassee River.”

For the first time since he’d said his name, Walter Phillips looked up. His round, boyish face was flushed, and though the room wasn’t particularly warm, sweat darkened his armpits and the edge of his collar. He wore a mustache, no doubt to look older, but the hair was blond and wispy. You could bet he still got carded when he bought alcohol.

“It seems only right that the first person to speak should be Herb Kowalsky, Ruth’s father.”