“They’re real. They’re from Dan.” Hobie stared silently out at the trees, as if watching something. Doug followed his friend’s gaze, but could see nothing there. When he turned back, he saw that Hobie was on the verge of tears. “I don’t know where the mailman found those letters, but they’re in Dan’s handwriting and they have things in them that only he could know. The only thing is… I mean, I’m not a religious guy, you know? But I keep wondering if maybe those letters were supposed to be lost, if we weren’t supposed to get them because…” He shook his head, wiping his eyes. “I’m learning things about my brother that I didn’t want to know. He’s a completely different person than I thought he was, than my parents thought he was. Maybe he changed in Vietnam, or maybe…” He looked at Doug. “You know, I wish I’d never seen those letters, but now that I got them, now that I’m getting them, I have to keep reading. It’s like I don’t want to know, but I have to know. Does that make any sense to you?”

Doug nodded. “How many have you gotten?”

“I get one a day.” Hobie attempted a halfhearted smile. “Or one a night. They come at night.”

The two of them were silent for a moment.

“The mailman’s responsible for Stockley,” Doug said quietly. “I don’t know what he did or why or how he did it, but he did it. He drove him to murder. He somehow got him to go into that bank and start shooting. It sounds crazy, I know. But it’s true.”

Hobie said nothing.

“I’m not sure if Bernie Rogers killed himself, but I do know that if he did, he was pushed into it. The same goes for Ronda.” He reached over and put his hand on Hobie’s shoulder. The gesture felt strange, uncomfortable, but not unnatural. He realized that, in all the years he had known him, this was the first time he had ever touched his friend. “I’m worried about you,” he said. “I want you to be careful. I don’t know what’s happening here, but it seems like the mailman’s picking on you for some reason, that—”

“That what? I’ll be next?” Hobie snorted derisively, and for a moment he seemed like his old self. “You think I’d actually kill myself? Shit. You got another think coming.”

Doug smiled. “I’m glad to hear you say that.”

“I’ll admit, this thing’s got me a little worked up, but I’m still playing with a full deck here. I’m not about to let a little mail drive me over the edge.”

“Okay.”