Edna stood at some remove, her attention drawn to Mr. McClaskey’s commentary in the manner of someone passing the scene of a fatal traffic accident.

Henry and I both craned our necks to see over the fence. The hose bib had an adapter on it that allowed two hoses to be attached to the same faucet. A twenty-foot-long green hose extended from each threaded metal end. The two hoses ran in opposite directions. Both connected to portable sprinkler heads that consisted of a rounded tube with holes through which water would shoot, forming a graceful arc as each head moved from side to side. It was an inexpensive alternative to in-ground irrigation systems, the prime drawback being the necessity for manual intervention. At the moment, neither hose was in use but the grass was still wet from a recent watering.

We both stared without comprehension.

Henry turned to the plumber. “What is this?”

Mr. McClaskey lifted his chin and scratched under it, an action that gave his reply a certain droll quality. “Well. I’d have to say someone’s tapped into your lateral to access your water for their own personal irrigation purposes.”

“Access?” Henry blinked. “Do you mean stealing?”

“That’s pretty much the long and short of it,” McClaskey replied.

Henry turned to Edna with a look of dismay.

“That was there when we moved in,” she said indignantly. “Of course we used it. It’s in our yard, so why would we not? But we had no knowledge whatever that the hose bib and faucet were connected to your water line.”

“As often as I’ve complained about high water usage, it never occurred to you to see what that hose bib was attached to?”

“Why would it occur to me? I don’t know anything about plumbing. I don’t know anything about gardening or yard maintenance. I’m doing the best I can to handle the care of a disabled husband. We had nothing to do with it.”

“Of course you did. Dale Adelson didn’t install that line,” I said.

“I don’t know your Mr. Adelson, but the hose bib has to be his handiwork because it certainly isn’t ours.”

Henry pointed in the direction of the hose bib. “The first time we met, you were huddled right there, burying your little doggie, or so you claimed. I said hello over the fence and that’s when you told me she died. I felt sorry for you. You were probably tapping into my line right then.”

“We did not put in that T. We knew nothing about it until this very minute. My husband and I are both old and he’s been ill and we live on a fixed income, which provides barely enough to get by as it is. We are honorable people doing the best we can, and I can’t believe you’d suggest we were in any way responsible. You surely can’t suspect my poor husband of any tomfoolery when he’s confined to a wheelchair and has been for the past six years.”