The Lottery

It was a lovely, warm summer morning; the cool breeze that traveled in off the ocean, was a welcomed friend. As I stood gazing from the deck overlooking the bay, I saw this crazy seagull plunge to the ground, picked something up in his beak, and then he flew up in the air and dropped it. Again and again this procedure was repeated. At first, I couldn’t figure out what the hell that silly bird was doing? After watching him for a good five minutes, all the sudden it occurred to me that the seagull was trying to crack some kind of shell open so he could eat the contents. I then had a good chuckle. My verdict for this technique, gave me an entirely new respect for what I thought was a rather dim-witted bird.

As I sipped my morning coffee, I instinctively reached for my binoculars. That had become a daily ritual for me, glancing out over the ocean’s sphere to see what kind of ships I could see coming and going. Promptly I realized that I had lost all concept of time, since retirement, one year ago. I smiled and held my cup in the air as if I were drinking a fine glass of champagne, and spoke aloud a little toast to my new wonderful life. As I was carrying on with myself, I was jolted by a distant laughter. Immediately I was flushed, overcome by embarrassment to know that the old couple that lived next to me had been standing on their deck the entire time, and had overheard everything, & found my adolescent like frolics, entertaining.

Giggling, as I said “Good Morning” still flustered from being caught in such a charade, I went inside the house and broke out in relentless laughter, feeling equivalent to a silly schoolgirl. Perhaps they think I’m cracked? It really doesn’t matter much; after all, I am living a dream. A full year ago, I gambled and came out on top. I won the lottery. That’s how all of this came to be. Still young at heart, a real zest for life, I go to bed when I feel like it, I wake up when I wake up, and most importantly, my charming beach cottage has never seen a clock! I poured myself another cup of coffee, and off I went to lounge in my hammock, taking in the morning sun until I could decide how I wanted to spend my day.

Edit* type O





[edit on 6/15/2008 by jensouth31]

As the hammock slowly rocked from side to side, she fell asleep quickly
and peacefully. He was there again, in her dream, watching her through
the distant trees, with binoculars of his own. When she looked directly at
him, he was almost entirely invisible, but when she looked away and came
back quickly to his position, she saw him move steadily backwards into
the shadows.
She suddenly jerked as an arrow shot out of the trees where he had
just been observed. It was heading directly for her and she struggled to
move out of the way but could not. She watched frightfully as the arrow
flew at her with tremendous speed. She pictured the arrow hitting her
dead center in the throat, tried to breathe but fainted away. She awoke
with a start, gasping and moving frantically. The hammock dumped her
unceremoniously to the groud. Getting to her feet, she was glad to see that
the old couple who had witnessed her craziness earlier had retired to their
kitchen. Good. No one had seen her tumble out of the hammock.
She turned around to go inside . . . .and that's when she saw the arrow
sticking into the side of her cottage.
Pivoting in a one-eighty, she stared at the distant woods where in her
dream she last saw movement. She could see nothing. A fog was coming
in over the bay, cooling the cliffs and beaches as it swirled about. She
turned around again and walked towards the arrow. Reaching up she
yanked the shaft out of her wall and threw it to the ground. Just as she
went to crush it under a vicious stomp, she saw the packet attached to
the rear of the shaft near the flights. Bending over, she picked up the
arrow and tore the packet off, exposing a piece of paper within. Easing
the paper out of the packet, she carefullu unfolded it until she was able to
read the very neat writing. It read : "Lottery Lady, would you consider
having dinner with me ? I too am retired, and would enjoy laughing with
you."


[edit on 16-6-2008 by SIEGE]

[edit on 16-6-2008 by SIEGE]

He watched her as she read his note. He saw her smile and roll her eyes,
then look once again trying to locate him. She seemed to be staring right
at him but he knew she could not distinguish him among the shadows.

A week passed and still he watched her religiously from his vantage point.

On the eighth day, as he walked up to his usual spot, he saw a manilla
envelope stuck to the tree that served him as a backrest when he had to
remain immobile for any length of time. Holding the envelope fast to the
tree was his arrow, without the packet ! He pulled the envelope down
and using his handy-dandy pocket knife he slit open the flap. Inside he
counted about a dozen pictures, all of him. They were 5 x 7's, all of him,
and all appeared to have been taken through some rifle sight, with his
image squarely in the center ! He looked around carefully, uneasily.

Sifting through the pictures, he came to the last of them, a "headshot" type
of picture that clearly showed him as a candidate for assassination. On the
back of this last picture was written a message in neat penmanship.
It read "No thank you, I prefer to dine by myself."
Laughter overtook him; deep, throaty, belly laughs. He liked this gal. This
Lottery Lady. Not only was she adept, but she had made him laugh.
Oh she was good, . . .real good.

I placed the envelope in the exact spot I had seen him the day before. About twenty-five yards away, I hid behind an old hollow tree and waited for him there. I waited for a while before I got lost in my own imagination. It was a beautiful sunny morning, and the warm breeze made the trees sway as if they were dancing.

He arrived around the same time I finished my last sip of coffee. I was startled because when I looked up at the spot where he watches, he was already there waiting for me to begin my morning ritual. I set my coffee cup on the ground next to me and slowly lifted the scope to take more pictures of this mystery man. Close range, sniper style.
He was handsome. I would guess him to be about six feet tall with short salt and peppered hair and kind eyes.

He sat there intently for a while before he noticed the manila envelope next to him. He picked it up and looked around, almost spotting me behind the hollow tree. He stood up, opened the envelope and flipped through some of the photos I had taken of him a few days prior. He looked shocked at first, but turned over the final picture and read the note I’d written. He laughed in a way that warmed my soul, so to speak and started on his walk home. I was tempted to follow him, but decided to climb down the hill and process the photos I’d just taken of him. I was ready to go home anyway, I heard my stomach growl, and realize how hungry I was.

He lived in a silo. A grain silo to be exact. The small farm he had
purchased three years previous had contained no actual living quaters,
the house having eroded away to little more than foundation. A dirt
driveway led from the highway in to his barn and silo, and what was left
of the farmhouse. The silo was partially attached to the barn at its base,
but rose up to a height of 120 feet, overlooking the bay like some
forgotten lighthouse. Upon seeing the silo for the first time, he was
immediately taken with potential uses, but quickly settled on the
possibilty that here might lie his living quarters. Three years and eight-
hundred thousand dollars later, the silo did indeed provide a comfortable
living space, and escape, from the ever-prying eyes of society.

As he approached the entry door, he hummed a specific tune and the
door unlocked automatically, sensing that the master was home. As soon
as he was inside; the door, of course, closed and locked itself again.
Stepping into the escalator, he pressed "up" and was lifted rapidly in a
cork-screw motion up to the tenth floor, his main sanctuary.
Although the rest of the silo was silent steel, here, on the tenth floor, he
had installed tinted windows in a 360-degree rotational pattern that
enabled him to see ten miles out to sea as well as four-to five miles in
any other direction. The roof itself was made of clear tempered glass that
made star-gazing on dark nights a breath-taking experience. It was home.

He sat looking out over the wind-swept water, every now and then
turning his head to stare at the pictures of her on one wall. He had three
different pictures of her, two he had taken himself, and one had been
taken from an old newspaper. In all three pictures she was quite
striking. Her hair, her eyes, her smile, . . .they all talked to him. But it
was her laugh that he remembered best. Having heard her laugh while
dining out one night, he was consumed with her manner, her graceful
body language, and vowed to himself that he would ask her out someday,
if for nothing else than to enjoy a laugh with her. This Lottery Lady, she
was quite the woman.

Once home, I looked around for my cup, but couldn’t find it. Taking a clean cup out of the cupboard, I poured a cup of coffee and without thinking opened the refrigerator to grab a raspberry yogurt. I was sure he was not in the trees watching, so I went outside on the deck to read the morning paper. While scanning the leisure section of the newspaper, I noticed an article for a black tie function at a neighboring establishment. The ad stated it was a benefit for a local widow. I remembered hearing this story on the news. He was a deep-sea fisherman whose vessel had been lost at sea. So tragic!

I picked up the phone and made my dinner reservation. Even if I didn’t feel like going, they could charge my card and my anonymous contribution would indubitably be appreciated. When I finished making the reservation, I picked up my mess and set out to develop the photos I had taken earlier. A short while later a clever plan came into view. I found the best headshot of the pictures I had taken, and with a black sharpie drew a bow tie around the neck of the unknown man; carefully I cut out the advertisement and wrote on the back of his picture, “Do you have a black tie?” then I placed the photo inside the envelope along with the clipping.

At dusk I snuck over and placed the envelope where he was sure find it.

It was just beginning to get dark when the motion detectors sensed an
intrusion and triggered a silent alarm, rousing him from the pages of his
current paperback. Glancing up. he watched her approach on two
different screens at opposing angles. She very carefully made her way to
the front of the barn, where she placed an envelope beneath the latch on
the wooden door. He watched her as she smiled and turned away, almost
running back to the trees. If audio had been installed with the remote
cameras, he was sure he could've heard her laughing softly as she
reached the cover of shadows.

He waited thirty minutes, making sure she was not coming back, then
went to retrieve the envelope.
Opening it, he was amused to see his picture, highlighted the way it was.
She had drawn a tie around his neck. He smiled at this, thinking that it
could've been much worse, it could've been a noose !
Reading the article, he remembered the loss of this local fishing trawler.
The incident had left everyone in town distraught for months. The
portuguese community especially.
He'd attend this benefit to pay his respects to the widow. Maybe
contribute to the fund too.
Yes, he had a black tie. He wondered what she would wear. Would she
acknowledge him ? Would she dance with him ? He liked slow dancing.
Although he generally disliked high society and the arrogance it brought,
and though he'd rather be more comfortable in a knit pullover than in a
stuffed tuxedo with a black tie, and though he was more of a loner than
a mixer, he'd go to this benefit just to finally get a chance to formally
meet her.
She had brought excitement into his life lately. Nothing obsessive, just
healthy adventure.
He hurried inside to see to a reservation. He wondered what type of
perfume she wore, if any.

Lottery : An activity or event regarded as having an outcome depending
on fate . . .

Anthing that happens suddenly or by chance, without an apparent
cause.


Hmmmmm . . . .luck ? Karma ? Fate ? Is Fate and Destiny the
same ?

She was sure she had giggled all the way home, feeling sneaky, she was so proud of herself. It had been years since she’d done anything so risky. Man it felt good! It brought back memories of her younger years and all the stunts she pulled back then flooded her thoughts. One special memory in particular had to do with one of her best friends, Luanne.

Lou had the biggest crush ever on a guy named John, who happened to be a coworker. Lou used to call me about eleven PM every night. She would ringng the phone one ring and then she would hang up. That was my queue to sneak out of my bedroom window. As the story goes, we would follow him home from work and stick a note on his windshield once he had gone in the house. The note always said the same damn thing… “Want to know who…It’s blue. Honk, Honk… come out and play!” Then we would honk twice and speed off.

Lou drove a blue Camaro and this specific adventure went on for weeks before he finally caught us, which ended in a high-speed pursuit through his neighborhood, followed by an adrenaline filled foot chase, a good tackle, and so much laughter that we nearly wet ourselves. We drove that poor guy insane for weeks & had so much fun doing it! That wasn’t the only incident, but perhaps one of the funniest.

That’s what tonight reminded her of…

It was late, however she was restless tonight. Opening her closet at that moment, stirring hangers back and forth, taking this garment out- then that one- just to put them all back again, she meticulously visualized what gown she wanted to wear. With selfish consideration she decided she would need a new gown to wear to the benefit. She wanted to look stunning for that special night… what girl wouldn’t? Tomorrow she would initiate a search for the perfect evening dress.

After putting her robe on, she went outside to the deck folded the head of the lounge chair down, then got cozy gazing up at the night sky. She lay there for hours thinking about stuff, all kinds of stuff. Would he now reject her offer as she had first rejected his? Would he be a gentleman, or would he expect something of her? Would he like her perfume? As she pondered these sorts of circumstances- listening to the waves break on the beach had caused her to relax completely and she drifted off to sleep





[edit on 6/20/2008 by jensouth31]

He finalized his reservation for the benefit dinner and dance, making sure
they sent him his confirmation no later than noon of the following day.

He brought out some stationary and began to write.
"Dear Lottery Lady, Thank you for the very informal invitation to the
Fisherman's Relief Fund Gala being held this next Saturday. Had you not
pointed it out to me, I believe I would have missed it completely. Yes, I do
have a black tie. And I now plan to attend so that I may be of assistance
to the fund-raising committee in whatever capacity they may need me.
Another reason for my attendance is of course to meet you, formally.
I must say, I find you quite entertaining. There's an air about you that's
both electric and comfortable. I look foward to meeting you. Regards."

Putting the note in an envelope, he took a second to look through his
telescope , which happened to be facing in the direction of her cottage.
There she was, out on the deck, sound asleep ! Hmm . . very pretty when
she was asleep !! An idea came to him then, and he realized he'd have to
hurry.

Twenty minutes later he was beside her on the deck. Very quietly, he slid
the envelope under her make-shift pillow. As he started to leave, a cool
breeze blew in from the bay. He looked around for a blanket, and finding
one near the back door he took it and covered her up. She moved only to
pull the blanket around herself and then continued her deep slumber.
Leaving a pair of roses on the table beside her, one white and one red, he
departed as silently as he had arrived.

She was startled awake! The man from the shadows had been in her dreams again. She sat straight up from a sound sleep, quickly looking around as if someone was trying to get her, and then realizing that she was only dreaming. Who was this man in her dreams that shot arrows at her and then hid from her in shadows? She believed dreams to signify something, however couldn’t put her finger on anything of any importance going on in her life at the moment. It was pitch black outside and the cool sea air had brought her a chill. She went inside- crawled into her bed pulling the covers up tight around her, falling asleep once again.

The sound of birds singing along with the brightness of the morning sun woke her. Rolling over, she stretched her body arching her back as if she were an infant then lay there hugging her pillow as she slowly woke up. About ten minutes later she folded back the covers, got out of bed & reached for her robe as she made her way down the hall to the kitchen to make some coffee. While the coffee was brewing she stepped out front, retrieved the morning paper then went back inside pouring herself some coffee, grabbed her binoculars and went out on the deck to see what she could see. She saw one huge cargo ship making its way north, a couple of commercial crab boats heading down south and a hand full of various beach-comber with their dogs running loose on the beach below.

As she sipped her coffee she noticed one of her nice quilts lying on the deck floor beside the lounge chair. She didn’t recall using a blanket when she fell asleep outside the night before. Shrugging her shoulders, she walked over picked up the quilt then neatly folded it before a seagull flew over and relieved himself on it. As she was folding the quilt, she glanced down at the table beside the lounge chair and noticed two roses. One was white, the other red. Confused, she picked them up, smelled them, and then placed them back on the table. That was when she saw the envelope tucked up under the beach towel that she had used as a pillow the night before.

She picked up the envelope, opened it, finding a short note inside that said…

"Dear Lottery Lady, Thank you for the very informal invitation to the
Fisherman's Relief Fund Gala being held this next Saturday. Had you not
pointed it out to me, I believe I would have missed it completely. Yes, I do
have a black tie. And I now plan to attend so that I may be of assistance
to the fund-raising committee in whatever capacity they may need me.
Another reason for my attendance is of course to meet you, formally.
I must say, I find you quite entertaining. There's an air about you that's
both electric and comfortable. I look forward to meeting you. Regards."

She smiled as she placed the note in the envelope, stepped inside the cottage taking out a pen and paper she then penned her reply….

“Dear Casanova,
Thank you for the lovely roses! I see that you have established where I live. So, without further protest, would like to request that you to drop by this evening for a refreshing glass of ice tea. Seven-thirty works for me. Please bring your binoculars; the whales have been migrating. Ha! I know you have some….

Best Wishes,
The Lottery Lady”

She then sprayed the note with perfume and paid the neighbor boy to deliver it.



[edit on 6/21/2008 by jensouth31]

It was noon before she made it out of the house to shop for an evening gown. She thought she had the perfect place to start her search; she would first go to the boutique down on Main Street. As she drove, she flipped through radio stations until she found something that suited her mood. Glancing up in the mirror, she noticed that she had forgotten to put lipstick on before leaving the house; she reached in her purse and then quickly applied some. Carefully she touched up the corners of her mouth with her fingertip.

When she arrived, she was immediately greeted by Gretchen, the shop owner and gave her a hug. Gretchen was an extraordinary woman who was somewhat akin to her in spirit. They had a few friendly exchanges before going on to look over the gowns. A few moments later she had several modest gowns in the dressing room. She put the first one on, and then came out for Gretchen’s appraisal. “It’s too conservative honey,” Gretchen said. She was afraid Gretchen was going to say that, however, she was so leaning toward the traditional side of things with this being a first date and all.

Gretchen stepped away and returned seconds later with a beautiful gown in her size. It was shamefully sexy! She quickly refused to accept the dress as a possible prospect because of its very nature. A small argument ensued, then the next thing she knew she had been tricked into putting the dress on. It was stunning! It had a low cut halter style bodice with sparkling rhinestones that had been meticulously placed all across the band that ran under her breast, which then continued around to the middle of her back where it fastened there. It was black, and had a mid thigh slit that ran up the front of the dress. The back of the gown was open, swooping down, stopping in the small of her back.

She stood and looked at herself in the mirror for a few moments, then said “Oh my goodness, it’s beautiful. I’ll take it!” Shocked that she even considered it, but she couldn’t help but think that her mystery man had probably already seen more skin than this dress shown –had he ever seen her sun bathing on her deck. She put her clothes back on while Gretchen placed the gown in a garment bag and cashed her out. They said their good byes, and she went on her way. She made a quick stop at the grocery store thinking it only right that she have a nice plate of summer fruit on hand in the event that he may stop by for a visit this evening.


[edit on 6/22/2008 by jensouth31]

The perfume continued to linger in the air as he read and then re-read
her note. He inhaled slightly, appreciating the clean yet intoxicating
fragrance that hinted of eastern european manufacture.
He grinned when he read "Casanova", knowing that he was about as far
away from being a ladies man as a man could be. It had been a long time
since he had felt romantically inclined. Most of the time he avoided women
whenever he could. Didn't like them, basically. Didn't like their catty
behavior, didn't like their pragmatic attitudes and actions. But this one, this
"Lottery Lady", she brought out good vibrations from his soul. A true free
spirit, she was about as close to being a soulmate as one could get.
Independent, with an open mind, her carefree manner was something
to enjoy and relish, . . . so many others always seemed to have problems
being 'real".

If he had his choice, he would have preferred a nice bottle of red wine to
share with this lady while whale-watching, but she had invited him for
iced tea and iced tea it would be. He brought a loaf of fresh french bread
and some cheese wedges with him, and when he knocked on her door at
precisely 7:30 he was amazed with how relaxed he was. Usually he would
be nervous on a first date but tonight he felt steady. She opened the door,
saying hi and reaching out to take the bread and cheese at the same time.
She looked very very good.
Holding the bread in her hands she walked around him in a semi-circle,
then said matter-of-factly, "I thought you'd be taller", and walked on in to
the kitchen. Following her, he watched her hips move in the tan jeans she
was wearing, and exhaled slowly. Setting the bread and cheese down on
the kitchen counter she turned to face him and her eyes sparkled. There
was mischief in those eyes, but there was also a longing. A longing for
maybe the right relationship. A longing for friendship. A longing for
compatiability.
He stood maybe two inches taller than her, but at an almost eye-to-eye
level her eyes drew him into her, and he went willingly. She handed him
a glass of iced tea and said, "Come on, let's get out there before the
whales call it a night". She led him by the hand and started out the door,
stopping immediately and looking up at him said "I don't even know your
name do I ?"
"It's Jonathan", he said quickly. "And yours ?"

“Oh…. my name? It’s Bertha!” instantly she started laughing and shook her head. “I’m just kidding Jonathan, my name is Jennifer.” The look on his face made her laugh, as she reached for his hand leading him out back. She was a tad bit nervous, but felt comfortable. He had strong hands. "That’s a nice snack you brought, maybe we should have a glass of wine with that? Wine certainly goes better with cheese & bread than ice tea! Do you like wine Jonathan?”

She caught herself. Was she talking too much? She certainly didn’t want to be annoying. It had been awhile since she had a friend over to visit with. “ Yes, Jennifer, I do like wine,” he said and then picked up his binoculars to look out over the bay. She glanced over at him as he looked out over the water. He was calm & well mannered. She liked him. Not as tall as she estimated, but things like that didn’t truly mattered. He looked over at her, and in doing so he caught her watching him. She blushed, having been caught gawking at him. She liked the way he looked at her; his gaze was warm & tender. What woman wouldn’t like to be looked upon in such a way? She turned away.

“I’ll be right back,” she called over her shoulder as she went inside. She returned a moment later with two glasses of merlot. “Let’s visit Jonathan,” She said as she carried the cheese plate out. “What do you do in your spare time besides spy & bird watch?” She gave him a playful look as she teased him.




[edit on 6/23/2008 by jensouth31]

"I'm a regulator. A lottery regulator to be exact. It's not the best job
around but it's far from the worst."
Jennifer looked at him with a new-found interest. "Just how do you
regulate?", she asked.
"I regulate by making sure some people don't win the lottery."

She stepped back from him then and said, "You know, I'm a lottery
winner. Did you have anything to do with that?"
"No, you were a natural winner, no doubt about it. You have . . . . . . .
. . .something special, a gift . .maybe."

"If you make sure some people don't win the lottery, doesn't that mean
that you help others to win it?"
He answered quickly, "No, I just make sure that certain individuals don't
win. The odds for everyone else to win remain basically the same."

Jennifer looked out over the ocean, then her eyes once again settled on
his. "Who do you really work for ?" she asked.

"Sometimes I don't really know myself", he answered.

She let it go, and they began to whale watch. Two chairs by the rail held
two notepads that held two pencils. Picking up her binoculars she
hollered "The one with the most sightings wins". And so it began. Hours
later he conceded that she was indeed the winner, because she had an
uncanny knack for sighting pods, which scored more points. It was getting
dark when they totaled up the points on the notepads, and he couldn't
remember the last time he'd had such a good evening. The time seemed to
have flown by.

They went inside and finished the cheese wedges, cut up some pears and
strawberries and dipped them in warm milk chocolate, eating them as they
dripped. The bread was heated, then sparsely covered with a weak
garlicky meat pate' that was washed down with cold ice tea and warm
wine.

They laughed a lot, feeling comfortable with each other.
Jennifer put some soft music on, and as the later evening hours
approached, they danced slowly around the living room floor, holding each
other close.

While the last song was ending, they both feared the night was over. There was a more serious air to the room. She ought to suggest a late night walk on the beach, but a walk on the beach might lead to other things and she damn well knew it. They were both adults visibly attracted to one another. God how she wanted him to kiss! It had been a long time since she felt any sensation this intoxicating. “I’m so glad you came over Jonathan, I had a wonderful timmeee…” He took hold of her softly kissing her. Her legs went limp- she could barely stand. Embracing him, she kissed him back. She was all but putty in his arms.

When their lips parted, they looked at each other. Letting go of him was not easy, yet it was the right thing to do before anything delightfully naughty happened. He said “I had a great time too. Thank you for inviting me over.” At the door he stopped once again to look at her, he smiled before closing the door.

Seconds passed before she tore out the front door “I’ll send my messenger boy tomorrow!” and she watched him walk away….

She slept so deeply the night before, refreshed, she almost hurdled out of bed to meet the day. After pouring a cup of coffee, she went out back to have a look. The tide was out! Quickly she put on some sweats and went down to the beach. That was her favorite time when the tide was out. It was a mile and a half to the next town and a very beautiful walk. When she got there, she was starving and went in the cafe for breakfast.

On the walk back home, she walked through the tide pools and touched the anemones. They were so soft she loved the way they stuck to her fingers. Looking up, she saw Jonathan. He was walking up further ahead with his back to her. She carefully snuck up behind him and startled him! “Good morning!” she said as she ran on past … he chased her and caught her around the waist and tickled her sides until she dropped to the ground laughing. He reached down to help her up; she sprung up and kissed him on the cheek. Looking up at her cottage, she noticed the snoopy old couple that lived next to her; ‘they’ were watching them with binoculars. “Come with me and have some coffee…” they held hands as they walked giving the old goats something to talk about. “What am I going to do with those two?” she asked shaking her head.

"Fixed-one to Mobile-one over?"

"Fixed-one to Mobile-one, over?" "Come in Mobile-one."

"GO AHEAD FIXED-ONE, OVER ?"

"Mobile-one, she has company, over ? Repeat, she has company."

"WE COPY THAT FIXED-ONE. SHE HAS COMPANY. ROGER THAT."



"AH, FIXED-ONE, WE'RE GOING TO HAVE TO POSTPONE ROUNDUP, OVER?
REPEAT, . . .ROUNDUP POSTPONED !"

"We copy that Mobile-one. No roundup. Will contact tomorrow."



The old couple pulled back into their apartment, knowing full well that they
had been spotted by the girl. Was she on to them or just innocently
annoyed with their snooping ? And who was this man in her life now ?
Where did he come from ? What was his involvement ? He was going to
mess up this operation sure as hell !