No one answered the door. He tried the doorbell again, and got the same response. Danny was about to knock when they heard splashing coming from somewhere out back.

“Let’s go check it out,” Danny said, and Ellie nodded.

They discussed the approach as they moved back down the steps. Ellie walked around the left side of the house, Danny around the right.

The fence was a custom job, made of redwood boards with a matching inset gate, the shrubbery incorporated into the fence. In the spaces between the boards, Ellie could see into the backyard. The surface of the swimming pool was still rippling from the person who had been in it: a tanned beanpole of a kid who couldn’t have been any older than sixteen. He had that surfer thing going on, and part of his long blond hair was tied up in a goofy man bun.

He sat on the corner of a chaise longue, hunched forward, texting on his phone. Ellie didn’t see anyone else in the yard. She opened the gate and walked across the cobblestones, underneath a roofed area off the back of the house. Floor-to-ceiling windows looked onto a good part of the downstairs—what real estate agents called “open concept.” In the adjoining kitchen, a big cooler, its lid open, sat on top of a dining table. She didn’t see anyone inside the house, and she gave the all-clear signal to Danny, who was moving with his hand resting on the butt of the nine tucked in his hip holster, on the other side of the yard, twenty or so feet away from the kid.

Then the kid looked up.

Saw Ellie, but not Danny.

Seeing one cop was enough. His body froze but his head swung across the pool, to the chaise longue sitting on the other side of the yard. The chaise was propped into a sitting position and faced the fence. Ellie couldn’t see who was sitting on it, just a woman’s tanned and slender arm hanging limply over the side, blood dripping from the fingers.

Ellie pulled out her sidearm, about to make the approach when Danny waved her back. “Stay with the kid,” he said. “And keep an eye out.”

Then, to the boy: “You. Keep your ass parked right where it is.”

Danny lumbered across the area around the pool and stepped cautiously on the grass, eyes scanning the backyard. Ellie took up a vantage point near the corner of the pool; it offered her the best view of the kid, the inside of the house, and Danny.

“Mrs. Vargas?” Danny called out.

The woman didn’t answer. Didn’t move, either, Ellie noticed. Her gaze cut sideways, back to the house. The living room and adjoining kitchen were still empty—as far as she could tell. She thought about the two words written on the dog tag—Help Us—and wondered who was inside the house. Wondered if she was being watched.

Danny moved across the lawn, taking bigger steps. Ellie thought she saw the woman’s arm twitch.