When they got into the car, the cameras switched on from somewhere near the rearview mirror. For twenty minutes, Brent and Jeremiah watched as the clone and Diana rode in relative silence to the shipyard.

They parked and got out, and the camera stayed on inside the empty car, the only light coming from the red blinking car alarm signal on the dash. This was their view for the next two and a half hours while the clone and Diana were inside the restaurant. Presumably, Scott hadn’t anticipated the need to arm every eatery in town with surveillance equipment. During the lull, Jeremiah and Brent played crazy eights and poker and glanced sidelong at the wall every few minutes for signs of activity.

When the clone and Diana came back out to the parking lot, Jeremiah heard them before he could see them, Diana’s voice so belligerent that it startled him. He straightened, paying attention.

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have had that second gin and tonic before dinner,” she snapped. “You know you can’t drink on an empty stomach. Every time you do, it turns into a scene. Honestly, it’s embarrassing. We won’t be going back there again any time soon.”

“Good,” the clone said as he unlocked the door with some degree of difficulty. “I mean, come on, Diana. Two hundred and twenty dollars for dinner? For two people? For that price, they should have had someone cutting my steak and putting every bite in my mouth for me!”

“It’s our anniversary,” Diana said, her voice softening in volume if not in pitch. “Don’t you think we can afford to have one nice dinner on our anniversary without you complaining about the cost?”

“It’s ridiculous. And that was without a full bottle of wine.”

“Jeremiah,” she said. “Nice things cost money. That’s just the way it is. I hope you gave that poor waiter a decent tip. God knows he earned it.”

“I gave him the customary fifteen percent.”

“Honestly, Jeremiah. In a place like that, customary is more like twenty percent. You really are uncouth sometimes, aren’t you?”

“Am I supposed to answer that?” the clone sneered. “Or was that a rhetorical question? Sometimes I’m too uncouth to know the difference.”

“Can we just get home in one piece, please. I have to work early in the morning.”

“Of course you do,” the clone said, venom slipping into his tone. Jeremiah leaned back, exhaling. He was really walking on thin ice now. He’d do better to just stop talking and drive.

“He is definitely not getting lucky tonight,” Brent said.

Jeremiah could have told him that three hours ago, before they’d even left the house.

“Remind me next year,” Diana said to the clone, “that we should just stay home and have pizza on our anniversary.”

“Will do,” the clone said. “Sounds good to me.”

The remainder of their ride home was silent, except for intermittent stifled huffs coming from Diana. At first, Jeremiah thought she might be crying, but her indirect glances at the clone held more anger than anything else. She was seriously pissed, Jeremiah thought, and then decided he didn’t blame her.