Claire parked her motorcycle and went into the fire station to begin her shift. The phone rang.
“Fire station,” Claire said.
“I want you to know that I’ve just spent a small fortune getting my front yard landscaped. I’ve put in expensive hybrid roses, perennial borders, and even a fishpond with a fountain.”
“That’s nice,” Claire said, “but why are you telling me about it.”
“My next-door neighbor’s house is on fire, and I don’t want you to trample my yard.”
