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“Look, I think we’ve established that we’re meant to be together, Jaq,” said Monica as she got up from the couch and started dressing. “You’re not happy with Francine and I’m unhappy with Garvin. So why not break the news to them and get married?”

He could have given her plenty of reasons why he didn’t want to divorce Francine, but he decided to refrain from bringing such a mundane and boring topic as money into the conversation. He was still enjoying the postcoital glow and didn’t want to spoil the wonders it did for his complexion. So he merely said, “Let me think about it.”

“Please do. Because I’m ready, Jaq. I’m ready to commit to you. All I need to know is: are you ready to commit to me?”

He took her into his arms again and gave her a wolfish grin.“Oh, you bet I am.”

Monica finally having left, Jaq locked up his office and walked the few streets that separated him from the new home he and Francine had acquired. It had cost them a pretty penny, but when he caught sight of the lovely little villa he couldn’t help but think it was all worth it. How quickly things had turned around. Six months ago he’d been in the depths of despair, and now look at what life had brought: a thriving office with tons of patients and a new life in the Hamptons. Not too shabby for a reformed addict.

He stepped through the little gate, admiring the nice white picket fence, and let himself in with his latchkey. And it was as he placed his coat on the rack that he heard the sound of four tires exploding with a loud bang and a sly little smile lit up his face.

Moments later, his front doorbell rang, and he opened the door. As expected, his next-door neighbor Barney Sowman stood before him, his face a nice beet red, eyes blazing, the veins at his temples pulsating. If he were Barney’s doctor, which he wasn’t, he would have advised him to have a lie down before he suffered a coronary. Instead, he said, “Oh, hello Barney. Nice day we’re having. Wonderful weather for a little stroll in the woods.”

“I’ve called the police, you scoundrel,” said Barney in response, and held up a strange device that Jaqlyn immediately recognized. It was a steel plate with sharp spikes sticking out of it. Police departments used it at roadblocks and they were called tire shredders.

“You destroyed my tires! Ripped them to shreds!”

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about, Barney. Why would I destroy your tires?”

“Oh, don’t you play dumb with me, Jaqlyn Jones,” said Barney, shaking a meaty fist. “You put this thing where you knew I’d come driving past.”

“Well, that’s exactly the problem, Barney. You’re not supposed to come driving past. That access road is private property—my private property, and you can’t simply drive across another man’s land like that. There are laws, you know.”

“There are laws against slashing someone’s tires!”

In the distance, a police siren made itself heard, and moments later a squad car parked at the curb and a heavyset man got out. As he walked up to them, Jaq saw that it was Hampton Cove’s chief of police himself. Alec Lip.

“What seems to be the problem?” asked Chief Lip as he waddled up. He was a large man with russet sideburns, hooded eyes and bushy brows who looked like a well-fed balloon.

“This man put this thing on the road,” said Barney, waving the steel contraption in the Chief’s face. “He punctured all four of my tires in one go!”

The Chief took the contraption and studied it.“Is this true, sir?” he asked. “Did you put this spike strip on the road?”

“First off, there is no road,” said Jaq. “This gentleman keeps driving across my property, even though I’ve told him many times he shouldn’t. Secondly, no, of course I did not put this thing where he would drive over it.”

“So how do you explain how it got there!” Barney cried.

“Calm down, Barney,” said the Chief. “Yelling and screaming and getting all worked up is not going to do anyone any good.”

“My best guess?” said Jaq. “Must have been neighborhood kids.”

“Neighborhood kids,” repeated the Chief in a skeptical tone of voice.

“We’ve got some real rascals roaming these streets, Chief. You should probably do something about it.”

Chief Lip gave him a scrutinizing look.“So if I study this spike strip for fingerprints I won’t find yours on it, is that what you’re saying, Doctor Jones?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

The Chief directed a sad look at Jaq’s neighbor. “Show me where it happened, Barn.”

And as he and Barney Sowman walked off to inspect the damage, Jaq couldn’t help but smile. Good thing he’d had the presence of mind to wear surgical gloves when he put that strip down. And even better that he’d bought them in Hampton Keys, paying in cash. Deciding that the matter didn’t interest him any further, he closed the door.

He was surprised to find that his wife wasn’t home yet. Probably gone shopping, he gathered, and spent the next half hour sending a series of saucy texts to Monica, making sure to use the secret cell phone he’d bought especially for the occasion.

Chapter 9