“Wait,” he said, turning. “We should call the cops or the wildlife control or something, shouldn’t we?”

“Why?” Anya said.

“To let them know there’s a monster gator in our pond.”

“Not to worry,” Anya said with a wave of her hand. “He’s gone. And after such a reception as he got here today, I doubt he’ll be back.”

“Where’d he go?” Jack said.

“There’s an underground tunnel that leads from the pond back into the Everglades.”

“Really?” Tom said. “I didn’t know that.”

Jack stared at her. “How do you know, Anya?”

She shrugged. “I’ve been around here a long time. I shouldn’t know things?”

He saw Jack stare at her again for a moment, then point a finger her way. “We need to talk.”

She raised her wineglass. “I’ll be here.”

Tom wondered at that exchange. As soon as they were in the house he turned to Jack. “Why did you say that to Anya?”

“What?”

“‘We need to talk.’ About what? What does that mean?”

“I’ve got some questions for her.”

“About what?”

“Things. Tell you about it later.”

Why didn’t Tom believe that? What was going on between those two? He was about to press him when Jack grabbed the pen and notepad from the counter by the phone.

“Just thought of something. Give me the names again of those three people who were killed.”

“Why?” And then he knew. “Oh, no. You don’t think—”

“I don’t know what to think, Dad. When Carl told me about the others he said you didn’t fit the pattern because the others were killed by birds and spiders and snakes. You were different because you were hurt in a car accident. But if what you remember is correct, you weren’t going to be the victim of a hit-and-run accident, you were going to be a meal for that alligator. And that does fit the pattern.”

Tom shook his head. “A few hours ago you were implicating Gateways in a scheme to get properties reverted. Now you think it’s…what? How, just how, do you get birds and snakes to attack someone?”

Jack stared at him. “How do you get an alligator to attack someone? Twice. Because, Dad, that gator was coming for you. He was aimed at you like an arrow shot from a bow.”

Tom wanted to deny it—tried to deny it—but couldn’t. Jack was right. Those open jaws had been coming straight at him.

“But it’s crazy,” he said. Even crazier was how the gator had stopped at the edge of Anya’s lawn. He was suddenly too tired to think about that now. Another question was far more pressing. “Why me?”

“That’s what I intend to find out,” Jack said.