He thought of the dead cat in the mailbox, thought of Barney.
"But why would they do that?" he said aloud. "What's the point?"
Hank shrugged. "They're trying to extend their influence into town, trying to make us all into a part of their little kingdom. Corban's unincorporated, and they want to take over. We have no town council, so they figure they can call the shots."
"But no one's buying into it," Lyle said. "Their Master Plan just won't fly here."
Joe nodded. "So they're trying to force their lifestyle on us. They don't allow pets, so they start killing our pets."
"Next they'll be painting our houses for us, cleaning up our yards."
"Let 'em!" someone called from a booth near the door. "I'd appreciate some free maintenance work!"
There were scattered chuckles, even Lyle smiled, and the mood seemed to be broken. The tension that had been gathering over the coffee shop dissipated, and Lurlene brought over his Coke. "Sandwich's coming,"
she said.
"I'muna get me one of them motion detectors," Joe said. "Put it on in the backyard where I keep Luke tied' up. Anyone comes snoopin ' around in the middle of the night-Warn!--all the lights'll go on, and I'll come out with my shotgun, blasting."
"Not a bad idea," Hank said. "Maybe everyone with a dog oughta do something like that."
Lyle nodded. "Maybe they should."
Barry walked back to his office after lunch feeling strangely unsettled, and though he immediately fired up the old computer and sat down before it, more than an hour passed before he finally started writing again.
He closed up shop late, time-fooled by the summer sun, but when he got home, Maureen was still down in her office, knee-deep in calculations.
She was auditing the pay roll expenses for Corban Title and Mortgage, and she informed him that she didn't have time to cook dinner and wasn't in the mood for any of the limited number of dishes he knew how to cook, so he was on his own tonight.
"No problem," Barry said. He went upstairs, micro waved a frozen pizza, and sat on the deck eating, watching the sun start its slow descent toward the canyons.
After depositing his plate and glass in the dishwasher, he told Maureen that he was going to go for a walk, get a little exercise, maybe step by Ray's for a minute.
"Say hi to Liz for me," she said.
"Will do."
Barry hiked up the road to the top of the hill. It was still light out, but the world was suffused in an orange glow, and from this angle the Dysons’ house looked like it was on fire, so bright was the reflection of the setting sun in the home's windows. Ray must have seen him walking up, because his friend was on the porch steps drinking a beer and waiting to greet him as Barry trudged across the gravel driveway.
Ray smiled. "Hey, stranger. What brings you up this way on a school night?"
"The homeowners' association."
Ray's smile faded. He nodded toward the front door. "In or out?"
"The weather's nice. Let's stay out here."
"Want something to drink?"
Barry shook his head. "That's okay. I just had dinner."
Ray took a sip of his beer, sighed. "So what's happened now?"
Barry told him about lunch at the coffee shop, the story of the poisoned pets and the conviction of the locals that the homeowners'
association was responsible. "So what do you think?" he asked. "Do you think they're really killing off pets?"
Ray thought for a moment. "I doubt it," he said. "It's not that I
think such a thing would be beneath them. It's just that I don't think they have any interest in things outside of Bonita Vista. The rest of the world could go to hell in a hand basket for all they care. As long as we're still safe up here, as long as the houses are painted the proper color and no one has an extra car in their driveway, all is right with their world."
"But like you said, they have the sheriff in their pocket. Maybe they want to expand their reach, take over Corban ."
"Maybe," Ray said doubtfully. "But Hitman's in their pocket only when it comes to Bonita Vista matters. I'm not defending those assholes, you understand. But I really think that their interest lies here, that their only concern is what happens in our little area. They might kill our pets, but I don't think they'd cross the border and go outside their territory." He paused. "You know, it's not power they want, not specifically. It's power over Bonita Vista. It's hard to understand, at least for normal people like us, but they really do seem to have some sort of primal territorial feeling about this place, some sort of myopic localized interest that forces them to focus on Bonita Vista and Bonita Vista only. To the exclusion of everyplace else."
"The land under a gated community possesses evil energy and has some sort of hold over its residents, making them do horrible, unspeakable things." Barry smiled. "Sounds like the plot of one of my novels."
Ray nodded seriously. "You're right," he said. "It does."
"I was joking."
"I know."
But Ray was still not smiling, and he sipped his beer as he walked over to the side of the house and looked down on the town of Corban , where lights were beginning to flicker on against the coming darkness.
Barry watched him. His friend had been acting odd lately. Nothing specific, nothing overt, nothing concrete, but there'd be a vibe, at strange moments, at strange times, that made Barry sense something was wrong. He'd hesitated to mention it before for fear that it was some sort of marital trouble, some problem between Ray and Liz, but that did not seem to be the case, and he cleared his throat and stood next to his friend. "Is ... is there anything the matter?" he asked awkwardly.
"Nope."
He tried humor. "You don't seem your usual happy-go lucky self."
Ray waved his hand dismissively, still not looking at him. "It's nothing. I'm just tired."
Barry let the matter drop. Maybe it was nothing. If it wasn't...
well, no doubt his friend would talk to him when he was ready. It wouldn't do any good to push.
Ray looked away from the edge, glanced over at Barry. "Liz wants to have another party, a neighborhood get together for all us outsiders.
You and Mo game?"
"Sure."
Ray shook his head. "I'm getting too old for this shit. Never thought I'd say that, never thought I'd end up one of those old farts who just likes to sit on the couch and watch Jeopardy, but damn if that's not what I'm turning into." He sighed. "Getting old sucks. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."
"I always knew it did," Barry told him.
His friend was silent for a moment, and when he finally spoke again, his voice was soft. "You don't want to cross them. The homeowners'
association. There's no telling what they're capable of. The best thing you can do is just stay out of their way."
"Something did happen!" Barry said.
"No. Nothing did. Something could've. But nothing did."
"Then--"
"It's one thing for an old-timer like me to be defiant, have a high profile. They know me. I've been around for a long time, and ... I'm tolerated. But someone new, someone like you ..."
"But nothing. I'm not afraid of those bastards."
"Maybe you should be."
"Why?"
Ray sighed. "Just try to stay out of their way," he said. "If they come after you, go at them full force. Use everything at your disposal to defend yourself. But don't go looking for trouble, that's all I'm saying. Don't put yourself in harm's way for no reason; for pride or stubbornness or principle. It's not worth it."
"Don't worry," Barry said. "I'm not stupid."
"I know you're not. I just want you to keep that in mind, though. Just keep that in mind."