Yard of the Month
Just after sunset, Mary Ellen Flynn crept behind the immaculately maintained boxwoods framing her new neighbor’s back door. There was just something suspicious about a man whose yard looked like an English country estate, yet who was never seen working in that yard. Not to mention, he’d won “Yard of the Month” three times in a row now. Mary Ellen had had enough. This evening, she was going to prove he was breaking the homeowners’ agreement. Somehow.
She’d brought a lemon meringue pie as a diversion, just in case she was spotted. Holding the aluminum plate out of her way, she leaned forward to peer in through the back porch window of the neat little Queen Anne home. She found herself looking straight into the kitchen. Bingo.
The room was lit only by the tiny light on the range hood over the stove. As Mary Ellen’s gaze roamed over the silhouettes of the appliances, cabinets, and a small, heavy table with two chairs, she heard footsteps approaching and ducked back so that the gauzy curtains would hide her from immediate notice. Her neighbor, who’d introduced himself at the last homeowner’s meeting as Haoyu Wang, shuffled into the kitchen, yawning widely.