Bob is not the most patient with authority. They are often chained to their forms and reports, often forgetting that there are leagues of difference between them and reality, much like expecting that reading science fiction has put him in good stead for a career in space.

Bob on the other hand, knows perfectly well his job (albeit he did need correcting by his son that 'always get your man' wasn't the motto in favour of 'Maintain the Right'.) and the practicalities of living it.

...Not that it's automatically clear to people who meet him.

He doesn't fear this interrogation. Or conversation. Or whatever the young lady wants to call it.

He's probably pretty amiable as she escorts him, relating some story about some curiously named Northern Canadian, like Old Fish Bob, who earned the name through hard work and oddness.

He finds the arrangement amusing, if only he's done this sort of intervention and its familiar and obvious.

"Hello, son," he said in greeting. After all, the dead don't stand on ceremony, do they?