Even though it was past midnight, three cars were leaving the compound on the hill. There hadn’t been anyone to come in or leave the house since they started their surveillance, except for the cleaning service and the gardeners. Albert and Dante sank down into their seats as three town cars passed by, rolling down the hill toward the marina. After they passed, Dante took out their infrared binoculars. He pointed them toward the house. There were three people around the perimeter, but everyone else was gone.

“There are three security guards left. The rest are gone.” Dante put the glasses down.

“That’s a lot of people to leave all at once.” Albert flicked his eyes at Dante.

“Yes it is,” Dante ran his hands through his hair. “We’ve got to figure out if he’s in there, Dad. The binoculars only tell us so much, and the listening devices we have aren’t working from this distance.”

“I know. I’ve been thinking a lot about that.” Albert tapped the newspaper in his hand against his palm. “I think it’s time for me to go back to work.”

“You are back at work.” Dante slid his eyes over to him.

“No, I think I’m going into the gardening business.” Albert tapped the paper again. “This paper right here says the resort is looking for a gardener, and well, I guess I didn’t save enough for retirement.”

Dante swiped the paper from his hand. He read the small advertisement that his father had circled. Then he threw into the back seat so hard the paper bounced off the seat, hitting his father’s seat before falling to the floor.

“No.” Dante shook his head. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I’ve been doing this for much longer than you’ve been alive. Of course it’s dangerous, but it has to be done.” A note of finality entered Albert’s voice.

“No.” Dante pinned him with a look. “We’ll find another way. Or I’ll do it.”

“There is no other way, and you have Fed written all over you. No one would suspect a lonely old man. I’ve spent so many years on a farm, there isn’t a plant I haven’t met. I can get on that property, and drop off some of our bugs. Then we’ll know if he’s here.”

Dante brooded for a while, thinking over the plan, trying to find any possible holes, any reason to protest. But his father was right. There wasn’t another way to find out unless they got onto the property. There were very few people coming and going. He sighed, running his hands through his hair.

“I will let you do this under one condition; you have to wear a hidden mic. If anything goes wrong, anything, I’m coming in.”

“I knew you were going to say that.” Albert smiled.

“Did you?”

“Of course.” Albert lifted his eyebrows. “It’s exactly what I would have said.”

Dante smiled and gave a little laugh. He was surprised to find that being compared to his father didn’t quite irk him as much as it did before. He turned the key in the ignition.

“Well, I guess we should go back to the hotel. I’d hate for you to be late for your second career.” Dante pulled out of the driveway.

Dante headed toward the highway that ran to the hotel where they were staying. It was a run-down sort of place, but it was quiet and clean. If someone updated it to the current decade with new paint, carpet and fixtures, it would be a nice hotel near the ocean. For what they needed it to be, it served them just fine.

Dante pulled into the parking space outside their ground floor room. When they opened the door, Bob sat on one of the twin beds, watching TV. Albert and Dante sat down beside him. They explained the new plan of attack. Bob protested, but eventually relented to their logic. Bob and Dante spent the rest of the night helping Albert pull together a false resume.

First thing the next morning, Albert put on a button-down shirt and some loose khaki pants. He pulled a floppy sun hat out of his suitcase, laying it on the bed. Dante watched his father reach into a hidden pocket in his suitcase, extracting a false social security card and license. Albert took out his real license, stored it in his bag, then stuck his new identity into his wallet.

“Ready to go?” Dante gestured to the door.

“Yes.” Albert snapped his wallet closed. “I will only answer to Jesse from now on, understand?”

“I think I’ll just stick with Dad.” Dante, the newly created Jesse, and Bob drove to the resort management office. While the head landscape artist interviewed his father, Dante tested the sound recording equipment, to make sure he would be able to hear his father without any problems.

After a short interview, the manager sounded impressed. He excused himself to go into his office to call Jesse’s references. After a few minutes, Dante got a call on his cell phone. He went into his rehearsed and well thought out opinion of Jesse: his work ethic, knowledge of plant life, strengths and weaknesses. The manager sounded ecstatic as he hung up the phone. Then Bob got a phone call. He went through his own version of the speech.

After his ten-minute conversation with Bob, the manager emerged from his office and offered Jesse the position. The manager asked Jesse when he could start, and Jesse told him he could start anytime, so the manager asked him to come back the next day. He gave Jesse a polo shirt with the resort logo right before he left. Albert emerged from the office victorious. On the way back to the hotel, they stopped at a bookstore so they could pick up a couple of books on native Hawaiian horticulture. ‘Jesse’ spent the rest of the day learning about the exotic plants growing all around the island.

The next morning, Bob and Dante dropped Albert off at work before they drove over to the hiding spot near Kaimi’s suspected hideout. It was a long wait, well into the late afternoon, until they started picking up Albert’s signal. The landscaping van drove past them up the hill to the mansion. Albert wasn’t alone; his new boss was with him.

“Jesse,” they heard through the mic. “This next owner doesn’t like new people, so don’t take it personally. He’s a paranoid guy. There’s always a few security guards around, and when he’s home he’ll watch you while you’re working.”

“Sounds like a pretty private man,” Jesse said. “What’s his name?”

“Yes, private—very private. Kimo Kimura. His wife can also be a bit demanding. Very loud and demanding. She tends to want everything a certain way. If she’s not happy with what you’ve done, she can get pretty mad.”

“Sounds like a fun house, Mike,” Jesse replied.

“Yeah. Of all the owners, these people can be the most stressful to deal with. So if you can handle them, you’ve got it made,” Mike replied.

Dante and Bob heard the car door slam. They heard more muffled sounds as the gardening van door slid open and equipment was retrieved from the truck. Mike greeted the two security guards.

“Who is this?” one of the guards asked.

“New hire, guys. This is Jesse Birch. Jesse this is Mitch and Carl.”

“Boss needs to meet him,” the security guard said without missing a beat.

“Sure!” Mike replied. “Is he in the office?”

Dante smiled over his iced coffee. Mike’s voice had gone up half an octave. His nervousness oozed out from their receiver in the rental car.

“Yeah, and he’s not going to be in the best mood either. Good luck,” said the other guard.

“Thanks for letting us know,” Mike said. There was some rustling and footsteps before Mike continued in a whisper. “Just let me do all the talking. I mean, answer his questions, but just let me handle the rest.”

The sound of footsteps stopped a little while later, and there was a knock. There were some muffled sounds until Jesse said, “Sounds like an argument. Maybe we should just come back?”

Dante smiled while Bob chuckled at Albert’s sly narration. Then they heard a heavy wooden door fly open.

“I told you—” the voice stopped cold and there was an awkward pause.