In the pre-dawn hours at the RV park, the handful of drunks who'd been carousing all night were thoroughly plastered. One by one, they crawled back into their RVs and passed out.
To save electricity, the entire campground was dark, save for a single light outside the reception office.
Jamie Karytiz was still awake, making his final, leisurely patrol of the grounds with a flashlight.
He wore many hats: owner, receptionist, accountant, handyman, and security guard.
Some of the guests arrived in their own RVs and simply needed a parking space. Others came in regular cars and rented one of the campground's travel trailers.
But there weren't many of these trailers—only five in total.
As he passed one of them, Jamie paused briefly, his gaze flicking to the trailer's window out of the corner of his eye.
The window was small and the curtains were drawn. The lights were out. It was past eleven, so the occupant should be asleep.
