Excitement flourished quietly around the hill on the morning of July four. There was unusual foot traffic, even before William awoke; hikers and joggers made their way past the home and around the hill to observe without appearing to observe. Children teetered their bikes on kickstands where Brandywine met the dirt and played Sardines in the denser patches of foliage. When a noise emerged from the hill or the home, Trent Johnson would shape his hands into a “T”, whisper “Time!” and listen for any advancement on the day’s affairs.

There were no offensive posts, no Ninety-five Thesis nailed to the Carmel’s front door. Maybe the offenders decided enough was enough, or maybe the extra attention on the Carmels kept them away. Janie, however, awoke to the image of her father in a colored-pencil straitjacket standing beside a bulldozer and a decapitated little girl. The artwork was initialed “T&C” in the bottom right corner.

It took the survey team six hours to determine the best path for the bulldozers to the top of the hill. A few days ago, the lumber truck buckled and slid down the front, leaving zigzags of exposed dirt in the green. Now, nobody was taking chances. The shallowest incline was found at the back of the hill but the larger trucks had to maneuver just right at the base to manage the angle. Sandy tread-marks already tore a path from Brandywine Drive, around the corral, between the hill’s base and the trees, and ended in a crescent of thrashed dirt and grass where the work trucks had to readjust their vehicles to prepare for the incline. Will experienced similar issues with his riding lawnmower; if the grass was damp, he learned to stay away.

Preparations for the event were simple. There were no official invites, just a general announcement at Brandywine’s June board meeting that all residents were welcome to attend the brief ceremony. Jaxon Silverman made the smiling announcement only hours after telling the board that Brandywine Gardens was a pipe-dream.

*  *  *

The padlock. It was the biggest reason Hyde feared his mission to retrieve the hidden speakers from his friend’s shed. If he cut the lock, William would know someone had been inside.

The menacing red bolt cutters looked out of place in Hyde’s hands as he scampered across the weed-covered plots of phase fifteen then into the woods. He stuck his arms out like like a flamboyant T-Rex so the tool wouldn’t rub it’s greasy parts against his khaki shorts or crisp Polo.

He spent hours spinning circles in the living room with his wife, plotting ways to get back inside that dang shed. If they could get Will to invite them, Kayla could distract him while Hyde snatched the evidence... but Hyde didn’t remember where he hid each speaker. There were four in all and he placed them too quickly, dropping them behind disorganized junk and tools. He barely remembered the layout of the workspace; he’d have to hunt for them, and that would take time.

Those troublesome little speakers would be the hottest gift for the Christmas season. The manufacturer was a startup company, just small enough to fly under the radar of the majors, but just large enough for Hyde to discover them at a trade show. Their product demonstration floored him; the craftsmanship and sound quality was on par with Bose, and a rechargeable lithium-polymer battery and incredible wireless range made each speaker a “wow-look-at-that” novelty as well as a “can’t-live-without-it” functional necessity. He purchased fifty sets of two, making Whitaker Electronics the sole distributor in Michigan. 

When Will nonchalantly insulted Hyde’s ambition at the bar, Hyde knew a demonstration of his fancy new speakers would prove his passion for his work. When the prank was over, Hyde planned to knock on the shed door, laugh his ass off, and reveal the new technology to a dumbfounded Will... but the evening took another turn. The revelation was put on hold.

The next day came and went. Will made no indication that something strange occurred in the shed and Hyde wasn’t even positive that his friend heard Kay’s voice at all. Maybe the distance between the speakers and computer was too great. Maybe he forgot to set them to the appropriate channel. Maybe he didn’t know his business as well as he claimed...

But they did work, and although this madness was never the intended result, it did appear that God was answering prayers. Furnishing Will’s theater with lights and speakers would help Hyde expand Whitaker Electronics to the coveted second location. With a second store he could afford more employees. He would manage less, spend more time at home, rake in more money... and prove--once and for all--that his passion for electronics matched Will’s passion for the arts.

And as long as Mr. Carmel believed the voice was divine, Mr. Whitaker would benefit from the stage.

Hyde made his way through the thorns and brush until he saw the tin stable wall through the tree trunks. He scanned the open perimeter for witnesses, then dashed--bolt cutter in hand--to the shed’s front door.

The last time Hyde saw Will was during the reprise of the prank. There was no way to know what effect Kayla’s threat had on Will, but one thing was absolutely clear: he wasn’t dissuaded. 

But Hyde was certain that the speakers worked! Will froze at the exact moment Kay began speaking. When she demanded that he halt construction on the stage, he bolted from the shed! Surely he heard the voice!

But somehow, the plan failed.

This one had to work. 

The speakers had to be removed and any trace of Hyde’s involvement had to be erased. Two days ago he borrowed the bolt-cutters from the maintenance closet at work. He would cut the lock and take it with him. Will would search for any missing tools, find everything in place, and buy a new lock without fanfare or police involvement. Clean and simple.

William was on the hill now, preparing for his speech and setting up chairs. It was the only time Hyde knew for certain where all three Carmels would be. Kayla was there too, helping place the hors d’oeuvres and drinks. She would alert Hyde via text message if anyone left her sight.

Hyde peered around the corner of the shed and looked up the hill. Will’s voice carried easily on the breeze as he shouted commands to his wife, daughter and construction workers.

Hyde moved into position, lifted the cutters to the padlock and pressed his weight on the tips of the handles. With trembling hands, squinted eyes and grit teeth, he broke the lock.

From the hill a firecracker whistled and popped. Hyde moved in.

*  *  *

The firework startled Kayla and she dropped the platter of coconut-chicken (with grilled pineapple garnish) as she instinctively looked to the sky. Orange sparks fell like rain, barely visible in the afternoon sun. Janie ran to her side and picked up the fallen chicken and placed them back on the platter in a neat circle. “Nobody’ll ever know,” she said. “Feeling okay, Miss Kayla?”

“I’m fine Janie, but thanks for asking!”

“Such a pretty day, eh?”

“Eighty degrees and not a cloud in the sky. Perfect for the Fourth!”

Janie smiled and bounded back to her father to receive her next task. Kayla loved Janie, but as she watched the girl hug Will’s waist, she could almost see the exchange of smug narcissism from father to daughter. She often caught herself looking feeling inferior to Janie, as if the little girl could teach dance better than she could. Will pointed to a stack of drinks and Janie ran to do his bidding. Will looked up and caught Kay’s eye. He waved. Kayla waved back.

William wore a bright blue shirt from Lowes Hardware Store and surveyed the scene like Pharaoh watching his Israelite slaves. The podium was repositioned so the sun would hit his face at a two-thirds angle. The lumber was moved, one piece at a time, until he was satisfied with the layout. The pink flags were too small to see clearly, so he made a poor construction worker run to the store to buy taller markers.

Robin Dawson arrived early and introduced herself to Will. Kayla recognized the blonde from her black-and-white photo that accompanied her articles on the front page spread of the Marion Hill Gazette. Her hands made exaggerated gestures as she chatted and giggled with William, then he slipped her a tip and pointed to the spot where the shovels would hit the dirt.

Kayla focused on her job arranging chicken on trays, trays on tables, and tables behind the chairs while simultaneously observing and avoiding William as much as possible. Hyde assured her that he wouldn’t recognize her voice; that the computer settings made her sound like a different person. But how could she know for certain the way it sounded to William in the shed? What if he recognized in her voice a unique tone or manner of speaking that the computer couldn’t mask?

The platters were arranged as elegantly as Kayla could manage. She glanced around the plateau, then took a few steps toward the edge of the hill. She saw the shed, but not the front door. There was no way to tell if Hyde was inside. She glanced back and watched Will. If he left her sight, she was prepared to text her husband. Dear God up in Heaven, please let this work.

“Give me a hand with this table?” Sarah asked. She wore paint-crusted blue jeans and a t-shirt promoting The Lion King at the Oriental Theater in Chicago.

“Yeah!” Kayla skipped to Sarah. “Where does it go?”

Sarah winced and scouted for a new spot. “We don’t have enough food to fill all the tables. I thought we could use this one as a welcome booth; maybe have people sign a guest book.”

“I love guest books!” Kayla said and grabbed her end of the table. 

Where was Will? Her excitement over the proposed book faded. He was just here. Her head twitched in rapid bursts like a pigeon.

“Right over there,” Sarah said and nodded behind Kay.

Will wasn’t on the hill. Janie was doing her busy-work, bringing pop cans from one side of tables to the other. 

“Where did your husband disappear to?” Kay asked and strengthened her grip on the table.

“When Will gets in this mindset, he’s easy to lose track of!”

“Hmm.”

“Did he tell you about his idea?”

Kayla had to get her phone out of her pocket. She needed to text Hyde. “I don’t think so. What was he thinking?”

“Well, he wants to have the theater finished by October. We’re going to schedule somebody big for the grand opening and he thought maybe you could choreograph a dance for your class to perform.”

Kayla picked up the pace with her feet rushing backwards on tiptoes, nearly tripping Sarah. “That’s a great idea! Oh the children will love it! What does Janie think?”

“You know Janie, she’s always excited to learn a new dance. Just a few more feet; maybe a foot to the left.”

Kayla took a big step back. “Here?”

“To the left a little.”

Kayla stepped right.

“Your left.”

Kayla forced a laugh. “Wow, I’m in la-la land today, huh?”

“How does that look?”

Kay dropped the table and fumbled her pocket. A call would be faster, but Sarah would hear. With a flip of the cell, a keyboard popped out and Kayla texted her husband with record-breaking speed; “get out!!!!”

“Everything okay?” Sarah asked.

“Uh huh!” Kayla said and walked to the edge of the hill. If William found out about the speakers... if he knew that it was her voice... Kayla was prepared to move. Hyde wouldn’t like it, but Hyde wouldn’t have a choice. There was no way on God’s green Earth that she was going to live next door to a crazy man who wanted her dead. They would put the house up for sale and they would move in with Mom and Dad until they could find a new place to live. It wasn’t ideal, but they would--

William was at the bottom of the hill, walking--then running--straight for the stable door.

*  *  *

The first speaker was behind the paint cans. The second hung in plain sight on a bent nail among the wall of tools (he remembered that one specifically because he knocked over a hammer while placing it.) The little device was camouflaged so well with the other tools that it was almost impossible to see. Hyde slipped both speakers in his front pockets. He had to search for the other two.

The bolt cutters were leaning against the wall beside the door. He couldn’t forget them on the way out or a misplaced lock would become attempted robbery.

Where were they? At the time he wanted to give Will the full effect of surround sound. Two were on the workbench... were the other two by the front window? He remembered placing one speaker on the sill behind some empty pop cans while Will was reaching for the cigars... now there was a framed photo of Janie, a tuning fork, and assorted junk. Hyde ran his hand along the sill, gathering a thick finger of dust, but no speaker. A muffled crunch of aluminum brought his attention to the trash on the ground and he knelt down and began sorting through. 

Found it! Hidden among fast-food containers and a soiled rag was speaker number three. He pocketed the gadget with less care than the others and stood.

“Hyde?”

He spun around. William stood in the doorway in a grizzly pose. “Damnit,” Hyde said, “you scared the shit out of me.”

Will’s body relaxed. “What happened? Where’s my--”

“I saw the open door, thought you might be in here.”

Hyde’s phone beeped with a text message. Good timing Kay.

Will inspected the door handle. “The lock is gone.” The bolt cutter sat less than a yard behind William’s right foot. “You didn’t see anybody come or go?”

“No... just the open door.” Hyde thought fast. He could either play it simply and pray Will didn’t see the bolt cutter, or he could throw suspicion completely off himself and point it out.

Will’s breathing intensified. “You were just walking by?”

“On the way up the hill. I told Kayla I’d help as soon as I got off work.”

“And the door was just open?” William didn’t look at Hyde, but scoured the door frame for clues. 

“I know you’ve got a lot going on today. Why don’t you let me look around and you can get back to work.”

“You don’t know what’s here, so you won’t know if something’s missing.” Will’s foot bumped the bolt cutters. “What the hell is this?”

“Those aren’t yours?”

“Don’t touch anything.” Will walked to a trash bin, reached inside, and pulled out a cigar. He dusted it off and slid it in his pocket. “I’ll talk to Cavenaugh tonight.”