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<strong>Jack</strong> <strong>kilborn</strong> <strong>SErial</strong> <strong>blakE</strong> <strong>crouch</strong><br />
and Maggie needed his attention.<br />
“Sal!”<br />
no answer.<br />
Maggie considered banging on the floor, and wondered<br />
what the point would be. She knew the man downstairs was<br />
Sal. Who else could it be?<br />
right?<br />
Their lake house was the last one on Gold Star road,<br />
and their nearest neighbor, the kinsels, resided over half a<br />
mile down the shore and had left for the season. The solitude<br />
was one of the reasons the Mortons bought this property.<br />
unless she went to town to shop, Maggie would often go<br />
days without seeing another human being, not counting her<br />
husband. The thought of someone else being in their home<br />
was ridiculous.<br />
reassured by that thought, Maggie closed her eyes.<br />
She opened them a moment later, when the sound of<br />
the microwave carried up the stairs. Then came the muffled<br />
machine-gun report of popcorn popping. Sal shouldn’t be<br />
eating at this hour. The doctor had warned him about that,<br />
and how it aggravated his acid reflux disease, which in turn<br />
aggravated Maggie with his constant tossing and turning all<br />
night.<br />
She sighed, annoyed, and sat up in bed.<br />
“Sal! The doctor said no late night snacks!”<br />
no answer. Maggie wondered if Sal indeed had a<br />
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