He retreated to the same drawer and pulled out a box of green garbage bags. She understood his routine. He would seal her in the bags with heavy rocks and wade out into the pond and let her go. The simple disposal method was effective—Kelly knew from classes at Quantico that it often took decades for plastic to disintegrate. Yet there must have been some leakage. Julie had said the water felt sticky.

Obviously the brothers planned to leave tonight. With all their files closed.

Michael took her by the elbow and led her outside and across the grassy field toward the pond. She considered going for the needle but it was in an awkward position—especially in relationship to her bound hands. He had her in his left hand, a Glock in his right—the same type of gun as her own.

He had been in her apartment in Malibu. He had swapped guns with her. He had probably wanted her weapon as part of a backup plan, in case he had to shoot Matt in the head after pouring acid on Amy. Then the bullet and the gun would have been traced back to her. Those twisted brothers, they thought of everything.

Underfoot the grass was thick. She stumbled three times and he yanked her back into line. Christ to the cross—but there was a huge difference. Her death would serve no purpose. Her terror was almost outweighed by her bitterness. Once again she had rushed in like the big hero and in the process had fucked up royally. If Charlie could see her now, he would die. God, if she hadn’t had the audacity to mistrust her old friend. He would be with her now—on top of these jerks—and Michael and his weird brother would probably be dead.

Night had fallen; the black sky hung over the pond and failed to reflect back a single star. It might have been her imagination, but she smelled rotten eggs. Hydrogen sulfide—she remembered her college chemistry. She noticed a structure off to the right, at the edge of the property. The odor came from that direction. Probably a laboratory set up by the brothers to mix their love potions. And Julie never went in there once?

What a perverted mind Julie must have. Would Michael wake her up before he killed her? This woman he pretended to love? Kelly tried to console herself. Maybe her self-loathing was unwarranted. There was no way to understand such minds. Maybe had Charlie come, he would have died as well.