“You almost gave me a heart attack, Jack! Never thought I’d see you again.”

Sitting at a small table in the back room of Good Caesar’s Garage, I’ve positioned my chair facing the door. Not that I think a saint like Caesar would try anything funny. But you can’t be too careful in Port Town.

“When you stopped coming around my shop, stopped asking questions,” says Caesar, “I think I am about to be shut down. But then, I heard of your arrest.” Caesar’s face ...