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coffee. He swallowed. Here goes , he thought.
    “I use binoculars,” he said.
    Deena continued to look into Judd’s eyes.
    “Can you blame me?” asked Judd with a little smile and a tilt of his head.
    Deena shook her head from side to side. She had to give him credit: at least he had told her the truth. How many guys ever did that?
    And it was true – Judd had told the truth. At least he had told what had been the truth. For the truth had evolved. The binoculars, strong as they were, hadn’t brought the woman on the dock close enough. Judd had wanted to bring her even closer. So he had rummaged through his attic until he found a telescope he’d given to JJ as a birthday present years before. It was so the boy could observe the moon, the stars, and other heavenly bodies.
    And as far as Judd was concerned, no body was more heavenly than Deena’s – especially as she lay flat on her back in a wet bathing suit on a hot deck bobbing on the surface of Turtleback Lake.

Chapter 5
    TURTLEBACK LAKE SEPTEMBER 2006
    Mayor Russ Meyer made the announcement at a special meeting of the Turtleback Lake Town council: The town would not be dredging the lake in the area of the public beach in order to search for Joanne Sully’s missing toe.
    The council’s decision was based on a number of factors.
    “I have been advised by medical experts,” said the mayor, “that reattachment surgery offers little hope in cases where the severed limb has been separated from a body for more than 48 hours.”
    Mayor Meyer let this important piece of information sink in.
    “The likelihood of finding such a small body part,” he continued, “in such a large body of water, within such a short period of time, is exceedingly low.”
    The mayor paused before adding the clincher.
    “Furthermore, the cost of dredging would have to be paid for with funds from a budget that is already strained. Dredging,” he concluded, “would be expensive, impractical, and ultimately useless.”
    “What do you say, Chief?” called out Jack Sully, a non-council member in attendance.
    Police Chief Rudolph turned to face Jack.
    “I think that toe could be anywhere now,” he said. “It could be in the belly of whatever it was that bit your little girl. Or, if it’s not there, it might’ve been swallowed by some pike or pickerel or who knows what.”
    “Oh, come on, Chief, we can’t just do nothing,” said Jack. “What if it were your kid?”
    “It’d make no difference,” said Chief Rudolph. “The odds of finding that toe are higher for a fisherman than for any dredging company we could hire. I’m sorry, Jack.”
    Meanwhile, Joanne Sully was miles away, in a bed at Northern Ramapo Hospital. The little girl might want to think twice about wearing open-toed shoes in the future, but other than that, she’d be just fine.
    Certainly she wouldn’t be the first or only resident of Turtleback Lake to be missing part of an extremity.

    * * * *

    Two hundred over ninety.
    And that was on a good day.
    Bill Lupo’s blood pressure was elevated to start. But the constant aggravation of his chosen occupation only pushed it higher. Hardly an hour in his life passed without someone infuriating him with one thing or another.
    Receivers who slanted in instead of out. Guards who forgot to pull. Linebackers who missed tackles. Running backs who didn’t seem to know the difference between the two hole and the four hole. Throw in school administrators, parents who complained about how much playing time their kids were getting, gym classes, and driver’s ed, and you had a man ready to blow like Vesuvius.
    Bill would probably already have been laid out in Schlemm’s Funeral Home if it hadn’t been for Sunday mornings. While others settled into creaking pews, Bill sat peacefully in a rowboat, a congregation of one.
    Out on the lake with nothing but a rod and reel, Bill became another man. Catching something was beside the point. Here there was no one to give him