They ride all the way out to the end of the White Street Pier where people are fishing and the wind stammers in steadily from the choppy Atlantic, its whitecaps particularly bright against the dark water. A big pelican is picking at itself on the concrete railing but as soon as Justin zooms by the bird rises, tucking up its legs and flapping away, perturbed at the disturbance. The three of them stand straddling their bikes, and look out at the endless black ocean. Very far away are a few boat lights but mostly there is nothing but the darkness and the warm wind and the sound of the waves supping at the cement pier.

Asher feels exposed here, though, because there are too many bright streetlamps. Nearby stands an older couple, fishing, wearing matching airbrushed tee shirts. The man tries to control the long fishing pole in the pummeling wind. The woman, maybe bored with watching him fight the rod-and-reel, keeps looking over her shoulder at the threesome as if fearing she and her husband are about to be mugged. But Asher thinks that perhaps she is wondering why he looks so familiar.

Justin takes off and Evona follows, pedaling away without a word. Asher rushes to catch up and rides behind them both, watching Justin’s strong little legs pump the pedals, feeling safer once they are back in the cover of darkness. Then Evona is singing the chorus of “My Sweet Lord” and Justin joins in with her.

Some nights Asher feels like they have lived in Key West much longer than a month. Nights like these he wishes they could stay here forever. But he knows that is impossible. Every day that becomes clearer.

They ride along in streets striped by deep shadows, past small, pastel-colored houses with people on their porches smoking or laughing or singing. Often the doors are open or the windows are uncurtained so that Asher can see into each golden-lighted room (people watching television, eating late suppers, a woman pointing her finger at a man seated in a recliner, her mouth contorted by anger) and see all the little dramas happening to each person in the world.

He still looks for Luke. He cruises the streets and hopes to happen upon him. He searches the internet and he occasionally asks a stranger on the street if they know a Luke Sharp. But he has no more leads tonight than he had before he got here.