Holly was getting ready for bed when the phone rang. "Hello?

"Hey."

"Hey, Ham. What's up?"

"I just got a dinner invitation."

"Do we have to talk about your sex life again?"

"Sex wasn't mentioned, but I'm keeping an open mind about it."

"Ham, I'm tired. What are you talking about?"

"I've been invited to the Peck Rawlings home for a fried chicken dinner."

Holly's heart leapt. "That's great! When?"

"Tomorrow night."

"God, what a relief! I've been feeling lousy for most of the day because I thought we were at a dead end."

"Not yet, apparently."

"What, exactly, did Rawlings say?"

"He said, 'Ham, why don't you come out here tomorrow night for a fried chicken dinner?'"

"What else?"

"Then I said, 'Peck, I think I'd enjoy that.'"

"I mean, what else did Rawlings say?"

"He said, 'Come out here about six. You turn right just as you enter Main Street, and we're the first house on the left.' Then he hung up."

"I've got to call Harry right now. I'll get back to you."

"Okay."

She hung up and dug out Harry Crisp's home number.

"Hello?"

"Harry, it's Holly. We're back in business."

"How?"

"Rawlings has invited Ham to dinner."

"That's great. It means they're still interested in him, in spite of his daughter being in law enforcement."

"Isn't it great?"

"Maybe. Let's not get ahead of ourselves."

"Well, they're not inviting him out there to shoot him."

Harry said nothing.

"Are they?"

"I shouldn't think so. But listen, Holly, it's important that he not do anything to arouse their suspicions on this visit. I mean, don't hang a wire on him or anything."

"I'll admit, I had been thinking about doing that."

"Just tell him to play it loose.".

"That's what Ham does best."

"Thanks for letting me know about this right away," Harry said. "Now, let's both get some sleep. Call me back when Ham reports in."

"Okay, Harry, good night." Holly hung up and called Ham back.

"Hey."

"Harry's excited, too."

"What do you want me to do out there?"

"Eat fried chicken and listen a lot, nothing more."

"You don't want me to burn down the place or anything?"

"Nope. Just be Ham, or a reasonable facsimile who's also a bigot and a crypto-Nazi."

"I guess I can handle that, as long as they don't give me a lie detector test."

"They're still feeling you out, Ham. I don't think these people recruit all that readily; they're very careful."

"That's what ol' Peck told me at our first meeting: careful and quiet."

"Ham, how do you feel about doing this?"

"Funny, but I'm kind of looking forward to it. I mean, you can do only so much fishing and play so much golf before you start getting a little fuzzy around the edges. You want me to take along a tape recorder or something like that?"

"Harry says no, and he's right. Just go as you are, and play it very cool. These are suspicious people-paranoid, even-and we don't want to do anything to worry them."

"I get the picture."

"Don't swear any blood oaths just yet, either. Play a little hard to get; make them work to get you."

"Hard to get, huh? Are we back to my sex life?"

"Come on, Ham, you were never hard to get in your life. This'll be a new experience for you."

Ham laughed. "It sure will be that, and I have to tell you, I'm starting to look forward to it. I've always loved fried chicken."

"Okay, Ham, if you think of anything else, call me tomorrow at the station. Otherwise, just call me as soon as you're safely out of there. I want to hear all about it."

"Oh, you'll be the first to know everything," Ham said.

"Ham, just a thought: Take along a gun."

"You want me to go armed?"

"Not exactly. Just put your nine-millimeter in the glove compartment and don't lock it. If they get curious, it would be nice for them to find it"

"Whatever you say, darlin'. You sleep well, now."

"Believe me, I'm going to."

Ham dressed in khakis a polo shirt. and a light sweater, the way he might if going to dinner at anybody's house. He checked himself in the mirror, the way he had sometimes done before combat missions, to see if he looked the proper warrior. This was the first time he had been a warrior in a polo shirt.

Feeling a little buzz of anticipation-not quite nervousness-he stuffed his 9mm semiautomatic into the glove compartment of his truck and drove west toward Lake Winachobee. He followed the dirt road the way he had on his last visit, but this time he wasn't diverted, so he drove right to the beginning of Main Street and stopped. Clapboard buildings lined each side of the street, and they might have been something out of the early twentieth century, or maybe Disneyland. There was a general store and half a dozen small-town businesses. He turned right, and drove down the dirt road. The sun was just setting, and the lights had come on in the first house on the left. It was a one-story house, but new-looking, neat, with a trimmed lawn and flower beds hugging the house. There was a three-car garage and, off in the woods, some sort of metal utility building. He turned into the driveway, switched off the engine, and got out of the truck.

The front door of the house was opened immediately by Peck Rawlings, who came out to greet him. "Hey there, Ham," he said, pumping his hand. "Glad you could make it."

Ham shook his hand. "Thanks for asking me, Peck."

"Come on in the house and meet some folks." He led the way inside.

Three couples were sitting in the living room, and the men all stood up. Ham had met two of them before.

"You remember Jim and James, I guess, from the gun show."

"Sure," Ham said, shaking their hands.

"And this is Mack Harston," Rawlings said, indicating a bulked-up man in a tight shirt.

"Mack, how you doing?" Ham said, shaking his hand.

Harston nodded.

"That's his wife, Emily," Rawlings said, pointing at a pregnant woman by the fireplace. "This is my wife, Betty, Jim's wife, Edie, and James's wife, Laurel," he said, pointing out the other women.

"Are you married, Ham?" Emily Harston asked.

"My wife died many years ago," Ham replied. "I never remarried."

"I'm so sorry," she said.

"Thank you."

"Ham, can we get you a drink?" Rawlings asked.

He noticed that the other men had drinks, but not the women. "Sure, Peck. Bourbon on the rocks, if you've got it. Anything else, if you haven't."

Rawlings nodded to his wife; she went to the kitchen and returned with the drink. When she opened the door, the smell of good cooking filled the room.

Ham accepted the drink. "Better times than these," he said, raising his glass.

"Hear, hear," Rawlings said.

"Are you right on the lake?" Ham asked. "I couldn't see from the front of the house."

"Yep, it's right out back."

"Pretty spot," Ham said. "Pretty little town, too. Looks like you've got just about everything you need out here."

"We go to town to the supermarket and the drugstore, but that's about it for outside shopping, except once in a while we go over to the outlet mall in Vero Beach and load up on stuff."

"I do some shopping out there myself," Ham said. "Everything's cheap."

Rawlings nodded, then there was an awkward silence, which Ham decided not to fill.

He sat back and waited for someone to say something.

"I hear you're ex-army," Harston said, finally.

"That's right," Ham said. "I retired a couple of years ago."

"How'd you happen to choose Orchid Beach?"

"I had an old service buddy who had already retired there, and he talked me into it."

"That the same one who died and left you the house?" Peck asked.