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A middle-aged man wearing cargo shorts and a sports T-shirt stood in brightly colored crocs with a hose in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

“Excuse me, sir!” Charles called, raising his free hand.

“If Susie sent you, you can forget about serving me with any more papers,” the man snarled. I guess Charles gave off that attorney vibe even when he wasn’t anywhere near the office.

“No, I don’t work for Susie or anyone else. We’re just here to see one of your neighbors. Could you tell me about—?”

The man raised his hand.“That’s enough right there. If it’s about a neighbor, it doesn’t concern me, and I have enough trouble of my own without sticking my nose into anyone else’s business. So just go on. Keep walking. Find some other poor sap, but you won’t get a peep out of me.”

I pulled Charles ahead.“Sorry to bother you!” I called to the man.

“Hey, you! Get that overgrown rat of yours off my lawn!” the man raged from somewhere behind us.

Charles and I turned back just in time to see Paisley lift her leg and let out a mighty stream of pee right beside the spot the angry guy had been watering.

He turned his hose on her and she ran away yipping.

“Good dog,” I whispered when she caught up to us.

“I thought only male dogs lifted their legs to pee,” Charles said rather than remarking on the man’s defensiveness.

“Little dogs do it, too. You know, to put some space between themselves and the ground,” I explained.

“Ah,” was all he said to that.

We walked in silence for a while until we came upon a couple jogging.

Charles tried to flag them down, but they both pointed to their headphones and made to run past us. Surprising me and the joggers, Charles threw himself in their way, forcing them to stop.

“What’s your problem, buddy?” The man loomed over us, ready for a fight.

“I’m just trying to get some information,” Charles said, taking a step back. “We’re looking—”

“Mitch. Yeah, he’s just over there watering his grass,” the man growled, pointing a meaty finger back in the direction from where we’d just come. “That’s who you’re looking for.”

“That’s who you guys are always looking for,” the woman parroted with poorly concealed disgust. “Sue ought to just let up on the poor guy, but you vultures are all the same. As long as your invoices are paid, you keep on keeping on. How does it feel to ruin people’s lives just to cut a paycheck?”

“We’re not lawyers,” I shouted in exasperation. “Well, Charles is, but that’s not why we’re here. We’re looking for the woman that lives in the apartment with all the flamingos. Her name is Lyn Jones.”

Both of them made faces like they’d just smelled something horrible.

“Her?” the guy asked.

“We don’t know her and don’t care to.”

The woman scowled.“Yeah. Why would we? All those lawn ornaments? Yuck. As if this neighborhood wasn’t bad enough.”

They continued to bicker between themselves about new people coming into the neighborhood and messing up the good dynamic they had going.

“Thank you,” I said with a sigh.

If they heard me, they didn’t show it. The couple took off jogging again, leaving Charles and me standing there dumbfounded.

“Care to keep trying?” Charles asked, shaking his head. “Three strikes before we’re out of here?”

“I don’t think I can take another strike right now,” I answered. The last thing I wanted was another panic attack.

He didn’t even question my decision.

Together, we returned to the unit with the pink flamingos to collect Octo-Cat and the car. I tried the door one last time since we were there already.

When my knocks went unanswered, I chewed my lip, then said,“I’m going to try calling her again.”

The phone rang and rang, but only on the other end of the call, not inside the house.

Charles frowned.“Like I said, it’s possible I got the location wrong. After all, Bravo’s instructions were pretty hard to follow.”

“No, this is it.” I wasn’t sure how I knew this was the place, but something deep inside me refused to be deterred. Besides, just how many stick-colored houses were there with pink sentinels standing guard around this place?

“Why don’t we head back to the bed-and-breakfast and get some lunch?” Charles suggested as he opened the car door for me and the animals.

“Finally, UpChuck is good for something,” Octo-Cat meowed as he settled himself into the back seat. “What are the chances we can find some lobst—?”

“No,” I cut him off. “Hey, Charles. Which place had the good fries?” I said, suddenly craving something salty.

“My darling, I thought you’d never ask,” he quipped, and we were off.

13

We parked outside the bed-and-breakfast, planning to go around back and enter our room through the sliding glass door. Charles carried the overstuffed bag of greasy fast food while I held an extra-large soda in each hand.

I’d planned on feeding the pets food we’d brought from home, but Octo-Cat had argued with me unrelentingly until I acquiesced, agreeing to purchase him a fish filet. We grabbed a plain burger for Paisley, too, since it would have been unfair not to treat her as well.