“Go get their leashes off the porch hook.”

At five thirty the black landline phone on the living room end table rang twice.

I picked up the receiver, standing by the coat rack in the hallway.

“Merrick here,” I said.

“It’s all clear, Sarah,” Kenneth said over the line, his voice low and easy.

“The Little Creek demolition range just finished the secondary flush on the Sandbridge practice shell.”

“The rusted fuse came out clean?” I asked him.