Nearing the house, he passed a beat-up old rustbucket Honda Civic parked in the deep shadows on the grass adjacent to the cul-de-sac. Hadn’t been there when he passed by before.

On alert now, Jack slowed his pace. Before rounding the rear corner of the house, he peeked first. He froze when he saw the silhouette of someone squatting beside one of the trees between his house and Anya’s. Was this who’d been watching him?

Dropping into a crouch he hugged the jalousied back porch and crept toward the figure. The wash of light from the parking area of the cul-desac cast long shadows across the space, but not enough light for Jack to make out his features. Could be one of those weird-looking characters from the pickup truck this morning.

Then the figure flicked a flashlight off and on—only for a second, but that was enough for Jack to identify him.

He straightened and walked up behind him.

“What’s up, Carl?”

The man jumped and let out a little yelp. He wore a lightweight, long-sleeved camouflage suit—if nothing else, it protected him from mosquitoes—but a screwdriver instead of a hand protruded from the right cuff. He looked up at Jack and held his left hand over his heart.

“Oh, it’s you. Tom’s son…” He seemed to be fumbling for the name.

“Jack.”

“Right. Jack. Boy, I gotta tell you, Jack, you shouldn’t come up on a body like that. You just bout scared the life outta me.”

Jack noticed something metallic with a silver finish on the grass before Carl. He couldn’t tell what it was, but he knew it was too bulky to be a gun.

“I’ve found that people tend to get jumpy when they’re doing something they shouldn’t. You doing something you shouldn’t, Carl?”

Still in a squat, Carl looked away. “Well, yeah, I guess so. Sorta. But not really.”

Now there’s a clear-cut answer, Jack thought.

“And what would that be?” When Carl hesitated Jack said, “Share, Carl. It’s good to share.”

“Oh, all right. Might as well tell you since you caught me in the act.” He looked up at Jack. “I’m doin a job for Dr. Dengrove.”

“Who’s he? Your therapist?”

“Naw. He lives three houses back, near the beginnin of the cul-desac. He wants me to catch Miss Mundy in the act of waterin her stuff and all.”

“Why would he want to do that?”

“Because it’s makin him crazy that his grass and his flowers is all dead and wilty while Miss Mundy’s is all green and growin like a jungle.”

“So you’re supposed to hang out here all night and catch her in the act?”

Carl nodded. “Sorta. He’s been after me for weeks, offering me money to do it, but I keep tellin him no.”

“Because you don’t want to get Miss Mundy in any trouble, right?”

“Well, yeah, there’s that, but also on account of how I gotta be up bright an early ever mornin for my job. That don’t stop him from offerin me more money, though. But I just kept on tellin him no.”

“‘Kept’?” Jack said. “I guess your being here tonight means he made you an offer you couldn’t refuse.”

“In a way, yeah.” He motioned Jack down. “Here. Take a look at this.”

Jack glanced around to see If anyone else was lurking about. He sensed Carl was exactly what he seemed to be: just a cracker working as a groundsman. But still…after having one of his tires slashed by another cracker this morning, he wasn’t taking any chances.

It looked like they were alone out here, so Jack squatted beside Carl.

“What’ve you got?”

“Somethin really cool.” He picked up the metal object and held it toward Jack. “Dr. Dengrove lent it to me. Ain’t it somethin?”

Jack took it and turned it over in his hands. A digital minicam. He noticed two slim wires trailing from the casing.

“What do you think you’re going to do with this?”

“Get pictures. Dr. Dengrove wants me to get a movie of Miss Mundy water in her stuff.”

Jack shook his head. “In this light, Carl, I’m afraid all you’re going to get is a dark screen.”

“Nuh-uh. Nuh-uh.” Jack detected a certain note of nyah-nyah glee in Carl’s tone as he reached over and pressed a button above the camera’s pistol-grip handle. “Take a look.”

Jack raised the viewfinder to his eye and blinked as the walls of Anya’s house and the grass and plants surrounding it leaped into view.

“Whoa,” he said. “A night-vision camera.”

He could make out the palms and the larger flowers—not the colors, of course, because everything was either green or black, just the shapes—along with her array of crazy lawn ornaments. As he swung the view past a lighted window the image flared, losing all detail. As he kept moving, the light from the window left a wavering smear across the tiny screen that quickly faded, allowing him to make out details again.

“Yeah,” Carl said. “Almost like I’m runnin aBig Brother show, dontcha think?”

“I suppose.”

Jack had never watched a single episode. His own life was more interesting than any reality-TV show. He couldn’t resist tuning intoThe Anna Nicole Show now and again, but that couldn’t be classified as reality. At least he hoped not.

“These don’t come cheap,” he said as he lowered the camera and turned it over in his hands. “What’s this Dr. Dengrove doing with it?”

“Ask me, I think he bought it just so’s he can catch Miss Mundy in the act. He don’t seem to be hurt in none for bucks, but he’s sure hurt in bad for a green lawn.” He snorted a laugh at this little turn of phrase. “Hurtin so bad he’s near about crazy.”

“Crazy enough to drop a bundle on a night-vision video camera and hire you to run it?”

Carl grinned. “You betcha.”

Jack shook his head. Some people. “I think Dr. Dengrove should get a life.”

“Mostly I think he eats. You should see the gut and butt on him—real pan-o-ramic.”

“Pano—?”

“You know.” He spread his arms. “Like you told me: wide.”

A panoramic butt…Jack opened his mouth, then shut it again. Let it ride.

“He’s like most of the folks here, I guess. They got too much time on their hands so they worry about all the wrong things. That’s why I liked your daddy so much—”

“Like, Carl. He’s still alive, so you can still like him.”

“Oh, yeah. Right. Well, anyway, he didn’t just sit around and complain. He kept busy. Always seemed to have somethin to do, someplace to go.”

“Speaking of going place s…the accident happened out on a swamp road in the dead of night. You have any idea what he was doing out there?”

Jack couldn’t make out Carl’s expression but saw him shake his head.

“Nope. I go home at night and I stay there.”

“Where’s home?”

“Got me a real nice little trailer in a park just south of town. Me and the guy next door share a satellite dish. For bout thirty bucks a month each we got us a zillion channels. No reason to go out. And even if there was, you wouldn’t catch me out in the Glades at night. I told you: It’s angry these days.”

“Right. You did. But you’re out tonight—nice camo suit, by the way.”

“These here are my jammies.”

“They’re you, Carl. So the plan is, you’re going to sit out here all night and wait for Miss Mundy to show?”

“Nup. Don’t hafta. At first I figured I’d just set the camera up and let her run, but that wasn’t going to work. Even if the battery would last, the memory wouldn’t. But then I came up with this real smart idea to solve all my problems. Look it here.”

He held up a little circuit board.

“What’s that do?”

“It’s a motion detector.”

This Carl was full of surprises. “Did Dr. Dengrove give you that too?”

“Nup. Got it myself. Took it out of a singin fish.”

“I’m sorry,” Jack said, poking a finger in his right ear. “I thought you just said you took it out of a singing fish.”

“That’s right. That’s what I did. Actually, I took it out of the board the fish sits on.”

“You’re losing me.”

“Big Mouth Billy Bass…the singin fish. He bends out from the board and sings ‘Don’t Worry, Be Happy,’ and some other song I never heard before.”