I’d ask what the doctors say, but Jamie doesn’t see a doctor. She doesn’t take medication, either, at least not regularly. Whatever money she has is not spent on medical care, and she probably shouldn’t be driving. If she can’t feel her toes, she sure as hell can’t feel the brake pedal.

And yet...my gaze lands on her oxygen tank, the latest, lightest model. Maybe Medicaid, but what about the yard and paint job outside? What about all this furniture? I glance around the room, taking it in, clocking the electronics—an iPad, a laptop, a sixty-inch flat screen on the wall, and that’s only the pieces I can see. Miss Jamie hasn’t worked in years. There’s no way she can afford all this.

Miss Jamie waves a hand through the air. “Are y’all gonna tell me what brought the two of you all the way over here, or are you gonna make me guess? Though I’ve been watching the news. I know it was you who fished that poor lady from under the dock, wasn’t it?”

“It was. And we’re here because there’s a rumor going around Lake Crosby that she was here because of Bobby.”

I say it slowly, gently, because I was standing on the shore the day they dredged Bobby from the depths of Pitts Cove. I saw the way she dropped to the dirt and worked herself into a coughing fit so violent that even the paramedics looked spooked. My gaze lands on an old picture of him, hanging from a nail rammed into the wall. The crooked teeth, close-set eyes, greasy dirt-blond hair I remember hanging out the window of a bright yellow Camaro. As tragic as his death was, his sister was the first thing I thought of when I saw his name on Sienna’s Twitter feed, what dredging him up all over again is going to do to Miss Jamie.

She shifts in her recliner, agitated. “God, the people in this town. You’d think gossip was an Olympic sport. Twenty years and they’re still making up tales about poor Bobby.”

“Actually, the rumors are coming from her,” Chet says. “The lady Charlie found under the dock. Sienna Sterling was her name.”

I lean forward on the couch. “She didn’t happen to stop by here, did she?”

Miss Jamie shakes her head, her gaze bouncing between us. “I don’t get many visitors these days, no. What would she want to talk to me for?”

“On Twitter, she was calling Bobby’s death a crime.”