Wilson thought about it, and thought it through hard because he was wondering the same. He answered slowly.

"Your grandfather, he used to go through your mother's things all the time. He had to, you know - don't think poorly of him for that - he was always scared she'd up and disappear one day and get herself murdered, so he used to look -"

"You don't have to apologize for him, Mr. Wilson. I know what he went through. I went through it, too."

"He would have told me if he found letters from anyone. Your aunt, too - she always had an eye out - but they never told me about finding anything like that. I think they would have told, especially when you started running off, but -"

Cole interrupted.

"It's possible."

"When two people want to get hold of each other, I guess they can do damn near anything. I don't think it's likely, her being the way she was, but -"

Wilson wanted to say more, but anything else would be a lie. God knows, the boy had enough of those.

"- I don't know."

A silence filled the empty space as the boy mulled that over.

"Okay, Mr. Wilson, I understand. I just needed your opinion. Like always."

Wilson felt warm, hearing the boy say that.

"I wish I could be more help."

"You help. You always have."

"This guy, Reinnike, he have any proof, anything that links him to your mother or you?"

"No."

"Was he a human cannonball?"

Elvis Cole laughed, but it was strained at the edges.

"I don't know. I'll find out."

"Well, I guess you could have one of those tests, the DNA."

"I've been thinking about it. They have to locate the next of kin first. You have to get permission."

"Well, we both know there are ways around that. Old as I am, I could get around that one."

"I'd better get going here, Mr. Wilson. Give Mrs. Wilson my love."

Ken Wilson's heart squeezed tight in his chest. He felt the tears come and looked at the little .32.

He said, "Call more often, goddamnit. I miss talking with you."

"I will."

Wilson fell silent; here he was, on the Banana River, talking to a man he had known from a boy, and this man was as close to a son as Wilson would ever have.

"I've always been proud of you, the way you turned yourself around - you rose above yourself, son. Every man should, but most folks don't even try. You did, and I'm proud of you. Whatever that's worth."

"I'd better go."

"It's time for me to go, too. You take care."

He was putting down the phone when he remembered one last thing.

"Elvis?"

"Sir?"

He'd caught the boy just in time.