As awkward as things have been, something about this is so familiar it puts her at ease. It's not the same-- she won't steal fries off his plate or tangle their ankles together under the table. They won't head back to adjoining rooms in some awful motel and spread crime scene photos over one of the beds and argue theories all night. He'll go home, and she'll go to her condo. (That is-- she'll go home; her condo is home.) And in a month or more they'll text about something else, and if they're really lucky, it won't be strange and fraught.

"How credible do you think they were?"

She's humoring him a little-- he doesn't need to ask to know she's doubtful about all Bigfoot sightings on principle-- but not totally dismissive; they have, after all, seen stranger thing in their time.