Anne Bonny's Wake. Dick Elam

I was emotionally involved. Bill may have been correct. He had taught decision making in action situations. My forte had been posing hypotheses that I backed up with a preponderance of data and attached a statistical probability. Bill had taught intuition, used when you lacked information. He’d also taught us that intuition worked best when you suppressed personal emotions.

      “What about the big, burly guy driving the motorboat? Seen anyone like him around here?”

      “No, Hersh, I haven’t. But tell me, you still an early riser?”

      “Yes. Still come up with the dawn.”

      “Tell you what, Hersh. You borrow my pickup truck. Early tomorrow morning, drive over to Pierce Creek and talk to the old Navy chief with the smart dog. If there’s a big ‘Bear’ roaming the Neuse River, there’s a good chance the old man may have seen him. You know the old chief petty officer, don’t you?”

      “Sure.”

      “Then, Hersh, get to Pierce Creek before the old man leaves to fish.”

      “Will do. Give me the pickup keys tonight. And did you tell Min about the girl?”

      “A little bit. Min can’t wait to see what you caught in your net. Tell you what. Bet Min will get her credentials.”

      “That may be a tough job, even for Min.”

      “Wanna bet, Hersh? Bet you my Min gets an occupation, an age, old boyfriends, what Maggie likes to eat, and names and addresses of next of kin. And we won’t tell her what you told me.”

      “I’ll bet you Min doesn’t get any of that information from this woman, except maybe food preference.”

      “Bet you five bucks.”

      “Make it ten.”

      Bill beamed. “You’re on. Now start pushing. I need a beer.”