I called Joe's office at a quarter of nine, but nobody answered. He didn't pick up his home phone, either. His cell phone was off. He was probably wearing off his pants in court. Cursing at his cheapness and reluctance to get a secretary, I left two voice messages and sent a text message to his mobile that I needed the exact time and place of the polygraph test.

In the kitchen, our new housemaid, Claudia Peres, was washing the floors. I tiptoed all the way across the wet floor to get my coffee, when I heard an entrance door opening and closing. Next, Elvis galloped into the kitchen, carrying a new toy in his mouth. Somehow, he missed my waking up and tried to make up for it now, jumping at me and offering to share the joy with him. When a hundred pounds of Elvis's muscles hit me in the stomach, I slipped on the wet floor and fell down. The quick-minded dog evaluated my brave movement for a second, and then put his new toy on my face, as I was sitting myself up. The toy, shaped like a life preserver, slid around my head and dropped on my shoulders.

"Oh," Claudia said, entering the kitchen with a brush and a bucket of water. She was a corpulent blonde Latino with a big nose and thick moustache. "Madam, take it off. You shouldn't put garbage on. This stupid dog took it from our front lawn. The other night, somebody dumped old toilets on our property. Jesus Maria, these people have no shame."

"Rachel, how are you today, dear?" Larissa came in, dressed in a long silk jacket and skirt of pale colors. My head mysteriously got stuck inside the ring, and our substitute grandmother rushed to help me take it off. She elegantly negotiated the wet tile floor with her kitten heel shoes.

"Oh," she exclaimed, turning Elvis's toy over. "It looks like a toilet seat. It's used and very dirty. Why would you hang it on your neck, Rachel?"

"Who let the dog out?" I asked indignantly.

"The dog ran away when Joe stopped by. He said he was admiring our landscaping, and asked if we started renovation of the house, because of the toilets sitting there on the front lawn." The old lady poured hot water for her tea and took a piece of paper from her pocket. "He left a note for you."

The note said: 555 Walnut Street at 2 pm.

In the next hour, I took a shower and got dressed for the trip. I wasn't even angry at my boss for his antics. We rarely, if ever, use our front driveway, because it takes too long to wait for the gates to open. This is the worst he could do, I thought. I will get back at him by solving the case and discovering the best material witnesses. The embryo of every lawsuit is greed, jealousy, revenge, or fear. Gamma and Debbie have just met, so there is no jealousy involved. Gamma got an offer for a different job with the company, so it's not greed or revenge that moved Gamma to destroy her new co-worker. Then, what we have left is fear. Gamma is afraid of something. It's plausible that Debbie, during her first orientation week, came across information damaging to Gamma. It was something that made Gamma believe that it was easier to get rid of the woman than to let her stay with the company with this information.

In the hallway, Claudia stopped me and asked me to call the township and ask them to remove the trash off the lawn. With a promise to call, I jumped into my Jaguar and took off, before something else came up.

I was driving along Pike Street towards Debbie's house when somebody honked at me. Looking around for an idiot, I saw Debbie in her gray Ford minivan waving madly at me. I parked and crossed the street to talk to her. The poor woman was shaking.

"Rachel, I've got a call from Matthew's school. Kids saw him in the woods behind the school, trying to set trees on fire. I have to get there before the police. I know how to stop him."

I got in her van, expecting to sit in filth. A single working mom with three kids doesn't have time for vacuuming the car. However, the van was spotless and even smelled good inside.

"Debbie, what exactly were they looking for when they hired you at NOSE?" I asked.

"Well, first they needed a native English speaker to teach ESL. I have some experience teaching English, since as a student I took a two-month trip to Mexico, where I volunteered as a teacher. It was a fun thing to do. After I agreed to take the job and had an interview with a human resources person, they gave me a new job description. It turned out that my position was called ESL Teacher/Job Developer, and that four days a week I was supposed to search for jobs for immigrants who are the clients of the company. In my mind, before I even started working, helping people to get decent jobs was like charity. If you know what I mean?"

I nodded.

She took a sip from her water bottle. "On May 4th, my first day of work, I received a fresh job description that ran on for two pages. Honestly, I worked for a couple of huge corporations in New York, and in other places, and I never saw a job description running through two pages. Besides teaching daily, consulting with students and developing new instruction materials, I'm supposed to hunt for jobs for immigrants, contact businesses and government agencies, and also recruit immigrants and refugees to become clients of this program. Also, I need to locate agencies and organizations, public and private, traditional and nontraditional, and pursue them in collaboration with this company. Besides, I have to perform case-working duty and to do clients' intake, to maintain voluminous case documentation."

"Sounds like an awful lot of jobs and responsibilities to me," I mumbled, impressed by her list.

"That's what I thought. I agree, it is a far cry from the teaching position I accepted." Debbie shrugged her shoulders angrily.

"Why would they trick you with a job description?"

"At first, I didn't know. Now, I understand that the people who work there, at the core of the program, are immigrants. They came to the country years ago, and they stayed with this company for ten to twenty years. They don't have an American education and they have a bizarre view of the ways American business operates. Until now, they had no problems dealing with the authorities and the job market. But now that the government has cut down on immigration, they desperately need somebody with perfect English and a knowledge of business. You know, before the 9/11 attack, the government accepted hundreds of thousands of new immigrants every year. The job market always needed more low-paid workers, and NOSE flourished. Somehow, they received a non-profit status that gave them significant privileges in conducting business. This surprised me at the very least, because they were making a hefty profit with their headhunt."

"How do they make their money?" I went from another end. Ultimately, I wanted to understand what information Debbie knew that would damage Gamma.

"This is the most interesting part," Debbie said, smiling. "I'm a Certified Public Accountant, so I always ask myself this question: How does the company make its money? And most of the time I would get no answer at all! At NOSE, I came across a very bizarre arrangement. I was helping Gamma to pack her documents, and… Oh, my God, it is a fire!" She screamed, parked the van, and ran out.

I followed her across the school parking lot into the woods that spread just three hundred feet away. Clouds of gray smoke were rising among the trees, without visible flames. Suddenly, a succession of sounds broke the silence. Either gunshots or burning evergreen branches.

"Matthew!" Debbie screamed and ran through the bushes, following her parental or maternal instinct. I tailgated her, breathing lungs full of bitter smoke. The cracking sounds were getting louder, and the next moment we stopped on the edge of a clear spot in the wood. Every tree and every bush around were burning like a torch. Fire, red and smoky, ran along the tree trunks like silk. I stopped in fascination and noticed a boy standing still in the midst of it all. Debbie grabbed her son from behind and tried to pull him out of the burning circle, but the fourteen-year-old just tossed her to the ground, with super strength, as if the fire gave him this creepy power.