I’d first met him when he was working missing persons and I was looking for one. For years, he’d been married to a girl he’d met in seventh grade when they both were thirteen years old. He thought marriage was for life, but Camilla’s commitment was on-again, off-again. She left him at intervals, taking their two daughters with her, leaving Jonah with a year’s worth of frozen dinners she’d done up herself. Jonah was hopelessly smitten with her, and the worse she treated him, the more hooked he seemed to be. At one point she left with the two girls and came home pregnant by someone else. Jonah took her back without a murmur of complaint. That little boy, Banner, was coming up on three years old by my count.

Rosie appeared from the kitchen and made a brief stop at the bar before she headed in our direction. Now that police department personnel were gracing the tavern, she’d begun to make eye contact with new patrons, whereas before she generally looked to me or to someone familiar to translate requests from strangers. She delivered a fresh glass of Michelob on tap for Jonah and a basket of freshly popped corn for the table. I sprinkled Parmesan cheese over the surface and began to munch.

“What’s happened to you? You look great,” I said.

“That’s a backhanded compliment.”

“I didn’t mean it that way. You look fabulous.”

“What makes you say that?” he asked. “I’m not fishing for compliments. I’m really curious.”

I studied him. “Good haircut. You’ve lost weight. You look rested. Also, depressed, but that’s not always unattractive in a guy.”

“Camilla’s back.”

“Good news.”

“She’s perimenopausal.”

I paused with a handful of popcorn halfway to my mouth. “Which is what?”

“Hot flashes and night sweats. Irregular menses. Loss of libido. Vaginal dryness. Urinary tract infections.”

“Shit, Jonah. I’m trying to eat.”

“You asked.”

“I thought you’d talk about mood swings.”

“Yeah, well, those too. She says she’s home for good. No more fooling around.”

“Then why so glum?”

“I just got used to her being gone. The girls have been living with me for the past year, and we do great. Camilla parked Banner with us when she took off. That was last September as a matter of fact. Kid’s in preschool; bright, verbal, well-adjusted. She comes back and now he’s wetting the bed and socking classmates in the mouth. I get calls from his school twice a week. Camilla wants us in counseling and she thinks he should be on medication.”

I decided to steer off that subject. The pair had been in counseling off and on for years at Camilla’s insistence and look where it had gotten them. “How old are the girls now?”

“Courtney’s seventeen. Ashley’s fifteen.”

“Are you serious?”

“Sure. That’s them over there.”

Astonished, I turned and stared. These were the two young women in consultation with Anna Dace. All three of them were gorgeous, which I’m sure wasn’t true of me at that age. “I don’t believe it.”