Vineyard Stalker Read Online Free PDF

homes. There was also room to park a car beside the stream, and there were hiding places for a moped or a bike.
    It would be a good spot to wait for the intruder, and I wished I had a helper, someone to stay here with a walkie-talkie while I watched and waited with another one back at Nunes’s place, but I didn’t.
    So I walked back along the path, listening to the tinkle and gurgle of the brook beside me, until I was again on Nunes’s land. There I worked my way west along the new stone wall marking his southern neighbor’s boundary and wondered if this neighbor was somehow engaged in a stone fence duel with the neighbor to the north, because this wall was even higher than the one I’d followed earlier. I imagined Frost looking at the walls with pixie grin and ironic eyes.
    I found no sign that anyone had come over this new wall or over the old one paralleling the paved road, when I followed it back to the ancient way where I’d begun my circumnavigation of Nunes’s land.
    The only sign I’d cut was on that path along the brook. Unless I’d missed my guess, the prowler had always come in along that path and, since habit is strong and success leads to repetition of action, it was reasonable to presume he’d come that way again. As I walked to the house I thought of what I’d seen and not seen.
    Nunes was seated on a mat in front of his house. He looked like pictures I’d seen of mystics seeking nirvana. He turned his head toward me as I approached and flowed to his feet, smiling.
    â€œI’m about to have tea. Will you join me?”
    â€œTea sounds good.”
    He went into the house. I was double-checking the grounds when he came back out, carrying his single chair.
    â€œUse this,” he said. “Unless you’re used to sitting on a mat, the ground can be uncomfortable.”
    He gave me the chair and went back inside. Moments later he returned carrying a pot and cups.
    â€œIt’s green tea,” he said. “I have no milk or sugar, I’m afraid.”
    â€œI don’t need either, thanks.”
    He poured for both of us and then sank easily down onto his mat. The tea was mild and refreshing.
    â€œYour face says you found something,” he said.
    No wonder I have so much trouble winning at poker.
    â€œYes,” I said, and told him of my wandering and discovery.
    â€œAh,” he said. “I’ve followed that path myself, more than once. It’s a good back entrance to this place, as is the ancient way that goes east into the forest.”
    â€œThe ancient way was clean of tracks. It’s rained since your last walkers came through from there.”
    â€œYes. It’s been a few days, and we’ve had rains since. Have you decided where to wait for my visitor?”
    â€œYes.” I pointed to the southern edge of the meadow. “That oak tree yonder will give me cover and a good view of your whole place, including the mill pond. If he comes I should see him and he shouldn’t see me. If he gets close to the buildings I’ll be able to get photos of him before he can do any damage, then I can do one of two things: I can make a racket and scare him off or I can take him down. Which do you prefer?”
    The Monk didn’t have to think that one over. “Make a racket,” he said. “I’ve had enough of taking people down.”
    â€œGood,” I said. “Me too.”
    â€œIt can be chilly at night,” said Nunes. “Do you want a blanket?”
    â€œNo,” I said. “I’d rather be cold and awake than warm and asleep.”
    He nodded. “It’s the choice I’d make.” Then he smiled. “I plan to take advantage of you and sleep deep and warm.”
    â€œI won’t mind. It’s what I’d do in your place.”
    An hour later, as the sun disappeared, I took my spy gear and walked up to the oak tree.

4
    The darkness came slowly and the