Kitty was on the back patio, which Luke had made more comfortable for her. He’d set up an Adirondack chair with a couple of soft pillows, and a table with a pitcher of ice-cold water on it. Alexa streamed R&B through the open kitchen window, just loud enough to hear.

“Xander,” she said, sitting up as Luke approached. “The berserker.”

“Is that what he is?” Luke brushed dirt off the edge of the planter and sat down. “Well, he just went in, and Mr. UFC came out, so yeah, they’ve got at least one person in position in case you show up.”

“Do they really think I’m that stupid?”

“You remember the scene in Pulp Fiction when Bruce Willis goes back for his old man’s watch?” Luke asked rhetorically. He scratched beneath his jaw. “You left your cell phone and your wallet at home, right?”

“Right.”

“Johan’s not taking any chances.”

The backyard was a safe zone, with wooden fencing and trees providing sufficient privacy. They kept their voices low, though, in case they somehow carried around the front and across the street. There was no harm in being careful, Luke reasoned. Similarly, Kitty wouldn’t sit in the living room, even in a chair that couldn’t be seen through the window. Luke offered to pull the blinds, but she said that might look suspicious during the day. She also suggested Luke work on a “natural response” in case Johan’s boys came knocking, asking if he’d seen the girl from across the street. He did so, practicing in the bathroom mirror, the way he used to practice his lines. Which girl? Kitty? I haven’t seen her for . . . shit, I don’t know, three or four days, maybe. It wouldn’t win a SAG Award, but it’d be good enough to fool those jackasses.

“My phone’s not up there anymore,” Kitty said after a moment. She’d poured herself a glass of water. The ice cubes rattled as she drank. “Johan has it. He will have hacked the password, and now has access to everything—names, telephone numbers, texts, e-mails, photographs, social media. My entire life.”

Luke shifted position on the edge of the planter and nodded. This was extremely likely. The question was, how could Johan use that information?

“I’m scared, Luke,” Kitty said, clearly asking herself the same question. “I’m scared for me, and I’m scared for my family.”

She was in a bad place, walled in on all sides. Luke had spent most of the afternoon thinking of ways to sledgehammer through the brickwork, to let in a shaft of natural light and clean air. Or, better yet, to reach through, grab both of her hands, and pull her free.