The rustling in the woods was fainter now, moving harmlessly away. Scanning the shadows, I saw nothing but trees and palmetto scrub. Feeling somewhat foolish, I hurried into the bright sun of the clearing.

“Hey, there! How you folks doin’?’’ I called to the tourists, as friendly as a Wal-Mart greeter. “Parking’s to the right. But why don’t y’all have a look at the alligator first? Ever seen one up close?’’

The woman started tugging on her husband’s Hawaiian shirt, dragging him at a run toward Ollie’s pond. “Oh, Hal! An alligator! Get the camera ready, honey!’’

I joined the visitors at the concrete wall. I could smell coconut-scented suntan cream.

“Where’s Bobby, Hal? He really should be here to see this,’’ the woman said.

“The last I saw, he was stalking off through the forest to get his Nintendo game out of the car.’’ Hal looked at me and shrugged. “Kids. What’re you going to do?’’

Judging by the size of his dad, whose flowered shirt could have been the tablecloth for a party of six, Bobby could be big enough to make the sounds I’d heard in the woods.

I asked, “Would your son normally stay on the nature path?’’ We’d groomed it, clearing away brush, after the woman in the tiny shorts complained her legs got scratched.

“He’s thirteen. What do you think?’’ Hal’s voice had an aggressive edge. “Bobby’s not so good with rules.’’

He held up his camera. “I’d love to get my wife in the picture, too. Is there any way Ev can climb down and get close to the alligator?’’

Rhonda’s warning about the S-word ran through my mind.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,’’ I said evenly. “Ollie hasn’t been fed today.’’

“Oh, that’s something we could do, Hal!’’ Ev took an excited little hop up and down. “Alligators are supposed to love marshmallows. A man at the RV camp where we’re staying says one in the canal will climb right onto shore. The alligator opens his mouth, and the man just tosses in the marshmallows, one after the other.’’

No S-word. No S-word. No S-word.

“I hope your RV neighbor’s not too attached to his arm,’’ I said. “A couple of years ago, fishermen in Lakeland found the body of a man who’d been missing for a while. A gator got ’em. In the same lake, trappers killed a three-hundred-pounder. All the residents had been feeding him. That’s illegal, by the way. They opened the gator up, and there was the poor fisherman’s forearm. It was still intact, in the alligator’s stomach.’’

Ev ran a hand down her own arm, glancing nervously over the wall at Ollie.

“Alligators are wild, unpredictable creatures.” I could hear the annoyance seeping into my voice, but I plowed ahead. “You have to realize, they’re dangerous. They’re not costumed characters at Walt Disney World, ready to pose for tourist pictures.’’

“We get it, we get it.’’ Hal stuck out his chest. “We’re not stupid. You don’t need to take that high-and-mighty tone with us. You don’t have to be rude.’’

Uh-oh.

“Sorry.’’ I backpedaled. “I didn’t mean to sound nasty.’’ I flashed them a smile that would make Rhonda proud. “It’s just that people who feed alligators cause a lot of problems, both for the people and the gators. They’re naturally skittish of humans. But if someone feeds them, they learn to associate people with food.’’ We all looked down at the gator in the pool. “Missing one eye and part of a foot hasn’t done much to slow Ollie down. And it hasn’t done a thing to diminish the power of his jaws and tail. He’s here because he got a little too close for comfort on the eighteenth hole at the new Kissimmee Links country club.’’

Hal let out a low whistle. “That’s a hell of a water hazard.’’

“Did he kill someone?’’ the woman asked.

“Not yet.’’

I recited the facts I knew by heart from my lectures to the kids: Biting strength more fearsome than a lion’s; eighty razor teeth; a tail that can break a man’s—or a woman’s—leg.

Then I agreed to take a picture of the two of them leaning against the wall. I climbed onto a step stool I dragged over from the shed. With that and my height, I could angle downward to get Ollie in the background and the stupid couple in the foreground. I took four or five shots from different angles. The visitors left with all their limbs. Everybody was happy.

Being friendly is hard work.

Giving my little talk about alligators had just about erased the uneasiness I’d felt at the noise in the woods. But with the visitors gone, a twinge of fear came back. What was it moving toward me, pinning me between the woods and Ollie’s wall? Was it just the couple’s son, stomping around in a teenage sulk? Or was it something more sinister?

I decided to try to find the Nintendo-addicted Bobby, and ask him some questions. Normally, I’d cut through the woods, reducing by half a fifteen-minute walk to the parking lot. Today, I stayed in the clearing as long as possible. Then, I chose a wide, well-marked path.

The parking lot held just three vehicles in addition to the VW and Rhonda’s car. One was a burgundy Mercury, with Pennsylvania plates. A bumper sticker on the back said: My son can beat up your honor student.

I pegged that one as Hal’s car.

Another was a rental, with a Florida map and a bird-watching brochure sitting open on the front seat.

The third, a white pickup, was the only one parked in the shade. Squinting through the heat rising from the lot, I thought I recognized the black cowboy hat on the man in the driver’s seat. I quickly closed the distance to the truck.

Engrossed in a cell phone call, the driver was alone in the truck. He didn’t notice as I approached from the rear. The driver-side door was open.

“I told you I’m good for those cattle, Pete.’’ I could hear his half of the conversation. “How long have we known each other? All I’m asking for is a little more time.’’

It sounded like Jeb Ennis’ business troubles had taken a turn for the worse.

Silently, he listened to whatever Pete was saying on the other end of the line. Then he shook his head and looked like he was ready to start arguing, until he caught me from the corner of his eye. “Listen, I’m going to have to call you back, Pete.’’ He paused. “If I say I’ll do it, I’ll do it. I’ve got someone here just now.’’

He cut off the call and slipped the phone into his top pocket. His face was shiny with sweat.

“Kind of warm to be out here sitting in your truck, isn’t it?’’

“Hey, Mace. I just pulled up a little while ago. I was headed to the office to see you when my phone rang.’’ He swung his long legs out the door and stood on the asphalt lot. When he turned and leaned in the back to grab something from the truck’s cab, I saw his shirt was soaking wet and stuck to his back.