Keegan slipped across the lawn, still barefoot. He kept close to the side of the house as he made his way around to the cottage’s front gate. He pulled it open quietly, passed through and latched it behind him, so Nora wouldn’t follow. He stood a few seconds at the edge of the still-warm asphalt, looking down the road at the dark car. Crickets throbbed around him in the darkness. He could make out two bulky forms sitting side by side in the sedan. These were no teenagers.

As he watched, the car’s driver-side window rolled down, and a cigarette dropped with a splash of sparks to the gravel drive. A match flared and, for a brief second, it lit up a craggy face. The match went out, and a new cigarette glowed in the darkness. The window rolled back up.

Keegan wished he’d already gone back to his apartment to pick up his .38 Special, and then he scolded himself for letting his imagination run rampant. There were any number of harmless reasons why a car would be parked along a dark road at this hour—especially this road, with the lights of the city spread out below.

Keegan dug his hands deep in his trouser pockets and slowly walked down the center of the road, towards the car. He didn’t want to catch anyone off guard. He wanted whoever was parked there—whatever their purpose—to see him coming and to know he posed no threat.

He’d only made it a few yards closer when the car’s brake lights splashed a pool of crimson on the gravel drive. The engine cranked to life.

Keegan stepped to the road’s edge.

The car’s reverse lights came on, and, before Keegan could get a decent look at it, it rolled back onto the asphalt and skidded down the road, away from him, without turning on its headlamps.

Keegan watched the dark shape slip down the road. Its brake lights flared as it went around the first bend. A few seconds later, the headlights came on, lighting up a stand of eucalyptus trees farther down the hill.

Keegan stood barefoot among the roadside weeds and watched the car’s taillights diminish until they vanished among the innumerable city lights below.

CHAPTER THREE

Wednesday, August 15, 1962

KEEGAN STOOD BEHIND Eve, watching over her shoulder. She lined up the pistol’s sights with the old tree stump at the far side of the ravine and held her breath. The morning slant of the sun lit her like studio lights. Keegan studied the light brown hairs that tapered down the back of her neck and the soft hollow between her jawline and throat. Her features were fine and delicate in the golden early sun.