“Me too. But first, I’ve got one more stop to make, if that’s okay with you.”

She looked at him with pride. “Granite Bay?”

“Yes. I need to apologize to Mercy Callahan.”

THIRTEEN

GRANITE BAY, CALIFORNIA

SUNDAY, APRIL 16, 5:35 P.M.

Ephraim had watched the house with the blue shutters for the past thirty minutes while the old man puttered in his garden. He hadn’t seen anyone else coming or going, but that didn’t mean there weren’t more people in the house. However, he needed a place to hide and this house had a view of the Sokolovs’ driveway. It would have to do.

He’d parked the beat-up car that he’d stolen after leaving the costume store. He could go back for it if he had to, because it was only about a mile away. He’d left it in the parking area for Folsom Lake, the lot overrun by people out enjoying the beautiful spring day. The hard part had been filling the duffel bag with the rifle, handguns, rope, and duct tape without anyone noticing.

But he must have been successful, because no one had looked twice when he’d set off toward the lake. After that, it had been easy to cut through the woods to get to this mansion with a view.

Most people would choose the view of the lake, of course. Ephraim wanted the view of the house across the street.

The man in the garden was about seventy, his back stooped as he pruned the roses. He wore white knee socks, a plain white T-shirt, and a pair of khaki shorts. Ephraim might have mistaken him for a gardener had it not been for the man’s shoes. They were leather and expensive-looking, so he was probably the homeowner. Which didn’t really matter that much.

Ephraim only cared that the man didn’t look like he’d put up much of a fight. As long as he wasn’t armed, taking over this house shouldn’t be too hard.

Ephraim waited until the old man had lowered himself into a lawn chair, gaze fixed on his roses. He heard the man sigh as he approached, the sound one more of melancholy than physical weariness.

Giving one last look around, Ephraim drew Regina’s gun from his jacket pocket and clapped his hand over the man’s mouth. “If you fight me,” he whispered, “you will die. If you scream, you will die. Nod once if you understand.”

The man nodded once, strangely calm. Instincts on high alert, Ephraim looked around again, expecting to see security jumping from the bushes, but no one appeared. Yanking the man to his feet, Ephraim dragged him into the house. He’d watched the man come and go and hadn’t noticed him fooling with anything that could have been an alarm system. Once he got inside, he saw that there was an alarm panel, but it was currently green-lit. Unarmed.

Excellent.

Covering the man’s mouth with duct tape, Ephraim tied his hands behind his back with a length of Granny’s rope and shoved him into a chair. A heavy one that the man couldn’t move on his own. It was made of mahogany. Nice. Amos back in Eden could make better, but Amos was also a master carpenter. Ephraim couldn’t help but wonder what Amos could make with wood like this, though.