chocolate drop as a reward.
I heard a man's voice no more than twenty meters behind me, but I hoped he was in one of the dips.
'Bob! Where are you? Come ...'
I recognized his voice as well. I'd tripped over these guys last night, and now they were going to return the favor.
The girl said, 'Where is he. Jimmy?'
Jimmy was angry.
'I told you we should keep the dog on a fucking leash, man, or back in the car.'
She sounded as if she'd started to cry a little.
'My parents will kill me.'
He started to backtrack.
'It's OK, Bob will be OK. I'm sorry.'
I hoped they were more interested in making up than they were in following Bob into my bush. But I was ready, I'd just stick with my tabloid story; they'd be able to see the camera. Besides, if I were a reporter I wouldn't have told him last night. I'd just have to keep the bow hidden.
They obviously had no idea that I was there yet, but Bob did, the nosey little fucker. The girl was still fretting.
'I gotta go back. My parents will freak if I'm late with the car and I've lost Bob.'
He wasn't impressed.
'OK, OK, I told you I'd get you home on time.'
He sounded pissed off; he could see all hope of a midday knee-trembler in the woods evaporating.
I heard giggling; he was giving it one last try.
'Jimbo, not here! I gotta get home. Bob, come on, boy, let's go!'
Bob was having none of it. He was sniffing big time at the OP. Next thing I knew, the dog's face was straight in front of me, demanding his share of the pizza. I gently scooped up a handful of earth and nicked it at his eyes. Bob now thought the pizza man was putting up a fight.
He backed off, but not as much as I'd hoped, and started barking. I had fucked up but I'd had no choice. As soon as he barked, they knew where he was.
The girl must have come over the brow. Her voice was much clearer.
'Bob! Oh, look, Jimmy, he's found something. What have you found, Bob?'
I got myself ready.
'What have you found, boy?'
The moment she saw me, I would launch into my reporter's spiel.
'What's going on, Bob?'
Bob's ass was in the air, his shoulders more or less on the ground with his front legs splayed, and he was jumping back and then coming forward and barking. I kept my eyes on target and now my ears on her as she started to walk directly toward the hide.
I heard the guy shout from somewhere behind me, very pissed off:
'Come on, let's go. Bob ... come!'
I saw the first-floor curtains twitch.
Bob was still leaping around with excitement, and on top of that I heard a vehicle. The tires rumbled along on the dirt track.
As Bob's nose once again came up to the cam net I decided to give him the good news with the pepper spray. He jumped back, yelped and ran to Mommy.
I heard the girl: 'Bob, see, serves you right! Stop messing around!'
She probably thought he'd got his nose bitten by something.
I listened as they shuffled through the sand. Jimmy was still behind somewhere, complaining. Next time they slipped into the woods he'd lock Bob in the car again to steam up the windows, like last night.
I got my head back on the ground, watching and listening, just waiting for shit to happen.
The Explorer had come back. Two up. I looked up just before it turned left off the track and downhill toward the garage.
It came down the hill and headed away from me, toward the garage.
Too Thin To Win was still in the driver's seat. I couldn't make out his new playmate in the passenger seat.
The wagon stopped just short of the garage and the side door of the house opened. Sarah again. She was looking at the woods behind me, keeping a wary eye out for Bob and his friends. I watched her and tried to keep contact with her eyes. I would know if she suspected anything.
I watched her scan the tree line, uphill and then back down again, toward me. As her eyes approached my OP I moved mine out of contact. I couldn't look at her. A sixth sense can sometimes let you know when you're being looked at, and I didn't want to take the chance.
I knew I was doing the wrong thing. Even if her plan was not to react to anything she saw, but to go back into the house, then return with an automatic weapon to hose down the area, I knew her well enough to see it in her eyes. I could feel sweat running around the back of my legs and neck.
I waited three or four seconds more, then moved my eyes up again.
She was finishing off her scan, past me and down to the lake. Once there, she quickly turned her head to the wagon and walked up to the passenger door.
A white guy clambered out. By his style of dress I would say he was American. He was wearing a black nylon bomber jacket, tight blue jeans and white trainers. He was above-average height and build, about midthirties with black, fairly long, curly hair, and a mustache like the sheriff's in the Bugs Bunny cartoons. He looked good enough to be the hunky lumberjack in any soap.
The meeting with Sarah was intimate: they hugged, kissed each other on the mouth, then held the embrace. They spoke in low voices as Sarah ran her hand across his back. There was something odd going on, though.
They looked pleased to see each other, but the talking wasn't loud and they weren't going overboard.
I got two pictures of them during the thirty or so seconds that they were together.
Too Thin To Win had the tailgate down on the Explorer. He was looking quite smart in jeans and a dark checkered jacket. He pulled out a brown suit carrier with an airline tag on the handle.
Sarah had disappeared inside the garage with the white guy, followed by Too Thin To Win, who closed the door behind them. It was time to send another sit rep.
had just started to prepare my message when Too Thin To Win emerged from the side door with MIB. He, too, had had a shit, shower and shave, and was dressed a lot smarter in brown trousers and jacket. They both got into the Explorer, Too Thin To Win in the driver's seat. The wagon backed around to point uphill. They weren't talking to each other, smiling, or looking at all happy. Something was happening.
The 4x4 bumped along the track and disappeared from sight. I looked back at the house. All the windows and doors were closed, and so were the curtains. That was strange; if someone was arriving at such a nice spot, surely you would show him the view? Maybe she had better things to do with him. Maybe he was just another sucker that she was using. But for what exactly?
It was nearly two hours before the Explorer returned. There were bodies in the back, but I couldn't work out how many as it turned downhill, my eyes nicking between the wagon and the side door of the house, waiting for it to open. When it did, it was the American who appeared. Sarah was nowhere to be seen. He was looking aware, checking the lake and, as MIB had done, playing with worry beads. I watched him, listening to the slow rumble of tires past my OP. His denim shirttails were hanging out of his jeans and showing below his bomber jacket. I was right, he and Sarah did have better things to do than look at the scenery.
The wagon stopped and I counted an additional two heads in the rear seats. All four got out and I pressed the cable release.
The two newcomers were both dark-skinned. They hugged and kissed the American on both cheeks. It looked as if they knew him pretty well.
All the same, there were no loud shouts of welcome or smiles, and everyone spoke in a murmur I couldn't understand. The meeting also seemed to have an air of relief about it.
Too Thin To Win and MIB had opened the tailgate and were pulling out two square aluminium boxes that
