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When Vincent pulled into his driveway one evening he wanted to celebrate. Once terrified, he’d miraculously managed to get rid of his CPA firm’s evasive, suspicious clients. He felt sociable again. Glancing up, he noticed curtains swaying in the vacant house across the street. New neighbors must have moved in. He ought to invite them over.
As Vincent walked around a hedge in front of the neighbors’ house, the curtains were open just slightly. Inside he saw a camera with a telephoto lens on a tripod.
The door opened.
“Mr. Novak? I’m Hendricks with the FBI. We need to talk.”