He laid the coat over the back of his leather chair.

The worn wool collar matched the shadow in the photo exactly.

“That’s me.”

My eyes went from the coat to the paper on the desk.

“So you were at the lake with him,” I said.

“I met him by the water at six o’clock that Thursday evening,” Vance said.

He sat back down and squared the photo against the corner of his green blotter.

“He didn’t want anybody in town seeing us talk.