I have been one acquainted with the night, amaudlin little voice inside her chanted romantically, trying to get her to cry again.
Yeah, right, Mary-Lynnette told the voice cynically. She reached for the bag of Cheetos she kept under her lawn chair. It was impossible to feel romantic and overwhelmed by grandeur while eating Cheetos.
Saturn next, she thought, and wiped sticky orangecrumbs off her fingers. It was a good night for Saturn because its rings were just passing through theiredgewise position.
She had to hurry because the moon was rising at 11:16. But before she turned her telescope toward Saturn, she took one last look at the Lagoon. Actuallyjust to the east of the Lagoon, trying to make out the open cluster of fainter stars she knew was there.
She couldn't see it. Her eyes just weren't good enough. If she had a bigger telescope-if she lived inChile where the air was dry-if she could get above the earth's atmosphere . . . then she might have a chance.
But for now . . . she was limited by the human eye. Human pupils just didn't open farther than 9
millimeters.
Nothing to be done about that.
She was just centering Saturn in the field of viewwhen a light went on behind the farmhouse below. Not a little porch light. A barnyard vapor lamp. Itilluminated the back property of the house like a searchlight.
Mary-Lynnette sat back, annoyed. It didn't reallymatter-she could see Saturn anyway, see the rings that tonight were just a delicate silver line cutting across the center of the planet. But it was strange.Mrs.
Burdock never turned the back light on at night.
The girls, Mary-Lynnette thought. The nieces. Theymust have gotten there and she must be giving them a tour. Absently she reached for her binoculars. Shewas curious.
They were good binoculars, Celestron Ultimas,sleek and lightweight. She used them for looking at everything from deep sky objects to the craters on the moon. Right now, they magnified the back of Mrs.
Burdock's house ten times.
She didn't see Mrs. Burdock, though. She could seethe garden. She could see the shed and the fenced-in area where Mrs. Burdock kept her goats. And shecould see three girls, all well illuminated by the vapor lamp. One had brown hair, one had golden hair, and one had hair the color of Jupiter's rings.
That silvery.Like starlight. They were carrying something wrapped in plastic between them. Black plastic.
Hefty garbage bags, if Mary-Lynnette wasn't mistaken.
Now, what on earth were they doing with that?
Burying it.
The short one with the silvery hair had a shovel. She was a good little digger, too. In a few minutesshe had rooted up most of Mrs. Burdock's irises. Then the medium-sized one with the golden hairtook a turn, and last of all the tall one with the brown hair.
Then they picked up the garbage-bagged objecteven though it was probably over five feet long, it seemed very light-and put it in the hole they'd just made.
They began to shovel dirt back into the hole.
No, Mary-Lynnette told herself. No, don't be ridiculous. Don't be insane. There's some mundane, per fectly commonplace explanation for this.
The problem was, she couldn't think of any.
No, no, no. This is notRear Window,we are not in the Twilight Zone. They're just burying-something.
Some sort of ... ordinary ...
What else besides a dead body was five-feet-andsome-odd-inches long, rigid, and needed to be wrapped in garbage bags before burial?
And, Mary-Lynnette thought, feeling a rush ofadrenaline that made her heart beat hard. And.
And...
Where was Mrs. Burdock?
The adrenaline was tingling painfully in herpalms and feet. It made her feel out of control, which she hated. Her hands were shaking so badly she had to lower the binoculars.
Mrs. B.'s okay. She's all right. Things like thisdon'thappenin real life.
What would Nancy Drew do?
Suddenly, in the middle of her panic, MaryLynnette felt a tiny giggle try to escape like a burp. Nancy Drew, of course, would hike right down there and investigate. She'd eavesdrop on the girls from behind a bush and then dig up the garden once they went back inside the house.
But things like that didn't happen. Mary-Lynnette couldn't even imagine trying to dig up a neighbor's garden in the dead of night. She would get caught and it would be a humiliating farce. Mrs. Burdock would walk out of the house alive and alarmed, and Mary-Lynnette would dieof embarrassment trying to explain.
In a book that might be amusing. In real life-she didn't even want to think about it.
One good thing, it made her realize how absurd her paranoia was. Deep down, she obviously knew Mrs. B. was just fine. Otherwise, she wouldn't besitting here; she'd be calling the police, like any sensi ble person.
Somehow, though, she suddenly felt tired. Not up to more starwatching. She checked her watch by the ruby glow of a red-filtered flashlight. Almost eleven-well, it was all over in sixteen minutes anyway. When the moon rose it would bleach out the sky.
But before she broke down her telescope for the trip back, she picked up the binoculars again. Just one last look.
The garden was empty. A rectangle of fresh darksoil showed where it had been violated. Even as Mary-Lynnette watched, the vapor lamp went out.
It wouldn't do any harm to go over there tomorrow, Mary-Lynnette thought. Actually, I was goingto, anyway. I should welcome those girls to the neighborhood. I should return those pruning shears Dad borrowed and the knife Mrs. B. gave me to get my gas cap off. And of course I'll see Mrs. B. there, and then I'll know everything's okay.
Ash reached the top of the winding road andstopped to admire the blazing point of light in the south.
You really could see more from these isolated country towns. From here Jupiter, the king of the planets, looked like a UFO.
"Where have you been?" a voice nearby said. "I'vebeen waiting for you for hours."