"I was just curious as to how deep in the ground you had to lay the hosing."

"Shoot! Ah don' know 'bout you, man, but Ah ain't abouta lay mah hose in the ground, Ah kin tell you that! Nossir!"

Amid renewed laughter, Lisl's groundsman looked up at Ev with his clear blue eyes. He was down on. his knees, adjusting a coupling.

"Aren't you Professor Sanders?"

Ev was somewhat taken aback at being recognized.

"Why… yes."

"I thought so. Well, Professor, down here we don't have to bury the hose too deep at all. A few inches will usually do. But up where you get a deep freeze, you've either got to lay the hose below the frost line or drain the system every fall."

Ev could tell by the trace of a northern accent in the man's voice that he knew about cold winters. He studied the face, looking for that last ten percent of certainty, but couldn't find it. And up close, the nose was all wrong.

The man shot a glance at the redhead.

"I'm surprised at you, Clancy," he said. "How'd you let that remark about freezing hose get by?"

Clancy smiled. "Ah guess Ah was too shook up thinking 'bout havin' to wait till fall to get man hose drained."

And in that instant, as Lisl's groundsman laughed with the others, Everett found what he'd been looking for. It was in the eyes. When he smiled, his lids, eyes, and eyebrows crinkled in a way that was identical to the photo.

"Thank you," Ev said, hiding his satisfaction.

"You clear on all this now?" Clancy said.

"Yes. I've learned precisely what I came to know."

He hurried back to his office, intent on calling the State Police immediately, but by the time he reached his desk he'd had second thoughts. Everyone had secrets—Lord knew, Everett had his own. Did he have a right to do the State Police's work for them and expose this man's?

The question plagued him the rest of the afternoon. He'd almost come to the decision to tear up the slip of paper with the state cop's name on it when he saw Lisl in the hall. She glanced at him, gave a quick wave, then turned away. She'd been acting that way for nearly a week. Almost as if she were avoiding him. Had he done something to offend her? He couldn't think of anything. But seeing her reminded him of just how disturbed this groundsman must be. He remembered how upset Lisl had been by that phone call in the middle of her Christmas party. It had ruined the whole day for her. The memory of her distress the following week angered him.

Perhaps his fingering this man as her tormentor might change her opinion of Ev. He knew she thought of him as a very stiff and very dull man. Which he was. Ev was the first to admit it. He was no fun. But maybe Lisl would warm up to him a little if he did this for her. He didn't want much. Maybe a smile, a touch on the arm once in a while. There was no warmth in his life, hadn't been any for too long.

A little warmth. That wasn't too much to ask.

Ev stepped back into his office and dialed the number the detective had given him. A motel switchboard answered—the Red Roof on the edge of town. The operator rang the room half a dozen times, then said that Mr. Augustino wasn't in. She offered to take a message. Ev told her he'd call back later. He wanted to make sure the detective got the information firsthand.

He closed up his office and took the number with him. He'd call again from home.

I must have Lisl on the brain today.

Ev stood at his living-room window and looked down on the street. He'd been passing by a moment ago while cleaning up after dinner—eight ounces of baked chicken, a cup of frozen peas, and a small can of corn niblets—and could have sworn he'd seen Lisl passing under the streetlight below. But when he'd looked again, she was gone. Must have been someone else. After all, what would Lisl be doing wandering around down here? She was probably out having dinner with that Losmara fellow. And after dinner they'd probably go back to his place or hers and…

He glanced at the clock on the wall, then at his watch. They both read 7:32. He knew it was the right time because he checked them regularly against the Weather Channel's clock. Time to go. The meeting didn't start until 8:00 but Ev always liked to get there early and grab a cup of coffee while the urn was still fresh. Especially since he'd forgone his after-dinner coffees and cigarettes to save them for the meeting. Heavy smoking and coffee drinking were the rule at the meetings, and he didn't want to go over his daily limits.

The Weather Channel had said there was a possibility of rain so he put on his raincoat and stuffed his Totes rain hat in the pocket. He made a last check of the apartment, made sure all the dinner dishes and utensils were put away, then headed for the street.

As was his custom, he stopped at Raftery's front window and watched the drinkers inside for exactly one minute. As he was turning away he caught a flash of blond hair down the street. For a moment he thought it was Lisl standing in a doorway. But when he squinted through the darkness for a better look, he saw nothing. /

He continued on his way, wondering why Lisl would be on his mind like this. He knew he'd been thinking about her more than usual, but that was because of the photo the detective had shown him. At least he hoped that was why. Ev was well aware of how prone he was to obsessions. He didn't want her to become one. Not Lisl. Not a colleague.

He continued on his way. It was only a few more blocks to the St. James Episcopal Church. When he got there, he bypassed the imposing granite front steps and went around to a small wooden door on the north side.

"There!" said Lisl, unable to resist gloating. "There's his big bad secret. A clandestine meeting in the church basement."

She rubbed her chilled hands together as they stood in a shadowed doorway across the street from the church. The excitement of following Ev along the darkened street, of ducking out of sight every time he paused or turned around, had left her feeling a little wired.

She glanced at Rafe, who had remained silent since Ev had entered the church.

"Come on, Rafe," she said. "Cheer up. Don't take it so hard because he didn't sneak off to some gay leather bar. You can't win them all."

"What do you think our friend Everett is doing in there?" Rafe said finally.

"Who knows? Maybe he's a deacon or something."

"Has he ever struck you as a religious man?"

Lisl considered that. She couldn't remember Ev ever referring to God, even once. She didn't know of many people who got into higher math and still believed in God.

"No. But we both know from last week that his apartment is a model of frugality, sobriety, and orderliness. I don't think it's much of a leap to accept him as a churchgoer."

"Perhaps not. But I'm still not convinced he's not hiding something."

"Give it up, Rafe. He's one of us. He's a Prime." She liked the idea of recognizing Ev as an official member of the club.

"Maybe. But I won't be convinced until I know what's going on in there."

"It's a church, Rafe."

"I'm aware of that. But I'm also aware that churches traditionally allow civic and community groups to use their basements and function rooms. I wonder what group is in the basement tonight?" .-

"What difference does it make?"

"For all we know it could be a self-help group for child molest-ers or transvestites or—"

"Really, Rafe. Must you?"

She couldn't see his face in the darkness, but she hoped he wasn't wearing that sardonic half smile of his. They stood there in silence for a while and watched other figures approach the church and enter the side door; men outnumbered women three to one; they were mostly middle-aged but a few looked barely out of their teens; some came in pairs but the vast majority arrived alone. By 8:10 the flow stopped.