“A few short-term construction hires, though the companies he uses are from Columbia and bring most of their own people. There’s some minimum-wage work as security guards and groundskeepers. Sometimes his clients need someone to mop floors or unclog a toilet. All in all, Bryan’s offering great career opportunities for the folks of Oconee County.”

The front door opened and Randy and Ronny came in with their wives, Jill and Nadine. The children were with them, running ahead of their parents to claim certain seats. Jill and Nadine wore slacks and blouses, but the twins were dressed in overalls and brogans. They had probably left the river and gone straight to their orchards. The two families filled the table at the room’s center.

Unlike Billy, the twins had never left the county, not even for school. Nor had Jill and Nadine. The life they always imagined for themselves was marriage right after high school. They had aged quicker than I had and not just from bearing and raising children. Long hours spent helping their husbands in the orchards had lined and weathered their faces. Jill and Nadine looked tired, but they also looked happy as they got the kids seated and settled.

Don’t sentimentalize their lives, I told myself. Don’t believe this little Norman Rockwell portrait is necessarily anything more than a brief respite. Still, I could not help thinking how, if things had turned out differently, Ben and I might have brought our own families here on Friday nights.

Luke leaned back and raised his arms, letting them spread across the back of the booth, as if to see Allen from a wider angle.

“This is not about that girl’s body being in the river.”

“Then what is it about?” Allen asked.

“It’s about whether federal law can be circumnavigated. Once a precedent is set, there’ll be other exceptions. Bryan understands that. Why else would he be helping Kowalsky and Brennon?”

“You don’t think publicity about the Tamassee being this dangerous worries him?”

“Total bullshit. Most of Bryan’s clientele have their hands full getting in and out of their bathtubs. They’re not getting into that river under the best of conditions.”

Luke paused.

“If anybody has to worry about clientele it’s Earl Wilkinson. His customers want the illusion of danger, not the real thing. They read about a place on the river so bad it’ll not only kill you but won’t give your body up, they’ll choose to get their weekend thrills risking mall traffic instead.”

Luke checked his watch.

“I’ve got to go in a minute. Someone from the Sierra Club’s supposed to call me at eight.”

He turned and leaned slightly in my direction, shutting Allen out of his line of vision. His tone was almost conspiratorial.

“I’m tempted to tell them to stay out of this.”