The back yard was small, but unlike the house itself, was a model of efficient planning. Kate couldn’t take credit for that fact. The truth was, she’d just left everything exactly where it had been when she moved in, and each spring, replanted whatever needed replanting. The whole thing was kept weed-free by the seven-year-old boy who lived next door, had nothing better to do all summer, and who thought that ten dollars a week for the job was a king’s ransom. A vegetable garden ran along the back fence. There was a row of corn, a few tomato plants, zucchini, eggplant and peppers. Most of these things had wound up as Kate’s contribution on the buffet table - there wasn’t much she could do to ruin fresh vegetables, especially since she had talked Josh into grilling whatever needed to be cooked for her.

There were three fruit trees in the yard - an apple, a peach and a cherry tree. All three had produced an abundance of fruit this year, plenty of it ripe and hanging within easy reach. There were a pair of stone benches under the apple tree, and between them, a tacky pink plastic flamingo. On the flagstone patio, lawn chairs and a table had been set up.

Kate stood in the doorway for a moment, watching her guests. Newt and Michael seemed to be bonding in some strange way, which was good. She’d gotten the distinct impression when the Fosters arrived that Michael was determined not to have a very good time here. September was talking to Flynn, who was sitting on one of the benches. Justin and his girlfriend Emily were in the corner of the patio. Emily was giving Justin a nasty look and he was ignoring her, dribbling a basketball and waiting for the opportunity to challenge someone to a game of one-on-one, probably hoping to pick up a couple of bucks by secretly violating Mom’s no-betting rule. Dillon was nowhere in sight - he was in his room, not wanting to sully his carefully cultivated reputation by appearing at the adults’ party. But, Kate thought, he was sure to come out when he got hungry enough.

Josh came up behind Kate and slipped an arm around her waist. She smiled at him. "Sorry to relegate you to the kitchen," she said.

"It’s the least I could do. Besides, it didn’t take long. The casserole is in the oven, and the steaks are marinating.." He glanced out at the yard, and spotting Newt and Michael, grinned. "Kate, you didn’t tell me that there was a dress code."

Kate frowned dramatically, took a step back and closely inspected Josh’s casual, but still very professional attire. "You mean I left out the part about ‘wear the tackiest thing in your closet’? And here I was ready to believe that you just have incredibly good taste. But you have to admit, they do look.. um.."

"Cheerful," Josh suggested.

"Well, I was going to say festive, but cheerful works. Come on," she said, taking his hand and started to lead him out into the yard when the phone rang inside the house. "I’ll be right back."

*****

>"Kate? This is Sharlyn. I.um...have a problem."
>
>"What happened?"
>
>"My car got a flat on the way to your house. The tow truck isn't going
>to be here for at least 15 minutes. Do you think you could ask someone
>to pick me up? I might last,but I don't think the fruit salad will... My
>car's a black Intrepid with the liscense plate "Boyz2Men" on it. I'll be
>here. Not like I can go anywhere."

"I’ll see what I can arrange," Kate said, and hung up. She quickly dialed Dinah’s number. There was no answer at her home, so she tried her cell phone number in hopes that she’d bring it along.

"Agent Weill," Dinah answered.

"Dinah, it’s Kate. Are you on your way over here?"

"Yes. Why?"

"I’m wondering if I could impose on you. Sharlyn’s car is broken down on. Would it be too terribly far out of your way to swing by and pick her up?"

*****

Dillon sat by the window in his room with his new toy - one of those high powered directional microphones. Mom didn’t know anything about it. She would never allow anything like it in the house. He aimed the microphone out at the yard and put on his headphones in hopes of overhearing something interesting.

He aimed the microphone first at the two guys in the cool shorts. They looked like they might have something interesting to say, which they might have, except just then Mr. Peters walked up to them. He called the one in the glasses Newt - Newt? - and introduced himself to the other one, and then the three of them started in on typical, boring small-talk.

Guided by the hum of other voices he made some adjustments. He listened for about half a second to his mom, talking on the phone downstairs, found that even more boring and tried again. He tried listening in to the two over by the bench - from what his mother had said and from eavesdropping, he’d figured out that those two were Flynn and September - didn’t anyone she worked with have a normal name? - but all he got was a partial sentence, ‘..join the others,’ and the started toward the group on the patio. Justin and Emily were no less boring.

"Are you just going to stand there with that stupid ball?"

"Maybe. Why, you want to do something?"

"I don’t know. I don’t want to sit here and watch you dribble all night."

Dillon sighed. It was going to be a long evening. He thought maybe he’d sneak downstairs while everyone was outside and grab a plate of food - just had to wait for Mom to show up in the yard, because otherwise she might catch him and try to force him into going out there. In the meantime, he adjusted the microphone toward the neighbor’s house. Now they were always interesting. So long as there was someone home, there was always an argument of some kind going on. As the microphone swept past the group of guests, he could have sworn he heard the name Moran mentioned by someone and he stopped to listen more closely.


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