?Don?t you think this is overkill? ? you ask me while I put some slippers on your feet. (I just couldn?t bring me to let your walk barefoot) ?You talk...way too much, girl? I reply and take you by your arm, leading you out of the cabin and closing the door. No turning back anymore! . Now there are about four dozen cabins on this park, making it a park whit a lot of privacy and plenty of space between the individual cabins. However, cars are not allowed, so there is a parking lot next to the area. Bob Randall was a private investigator. The glint of the parking lot crime light reflected from his binoculars as he focused on the third story window above him. He chewed determinedly on piece of Carefree, wanting to smoke. Smoke obscures the view from the binocs, though, fogs the windows inside a car, and also sends up a smoke signal for anyone to see. So, gum for now. Bob put the binoculars onto the passenger seat, trading them for a pad and pen. He made a note of the time, and then got out. More

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