I’d waited a long time to say those words, and they were just as satisfying as I’d always hoped. I was standing on the balcony of the empty Spanish villa I’d just put a bid on. Of all the houses I’d look-ilooed over the years, this one was really perfect: a 1930s classic, behind a gate, with all the bathrooms and the kitchen remodeled. The living room had wide-plank hardwood floors in a dark cherry. The ceilings in the living room and bedroom soared over twenty feet high, with wooden beams. The Realtor had given me a tour that ended up on the large balcony of the living room. “That’s what they call a million-dollar view,” he whispered in my ear.

We were high above Los Feliz and I could see all the way from the ocean in Santa Monica to the tall buildings downtown. I’d once told someone that I wanted a house in the hills that people would get lost coming to. This was that house. I worried about the Domino’s pizza guy finding his way, but I’d deal with that when I was in.

The Realtor had continued with the hard sales pitch, even though he had me at the view. Looking east toward where he was pointing, I could just make out the lights of Dodger Stadium above Echo Park.

“Do you like baseball? You’re so close to the stadium that you could be in your seat in about ten minutes from here.”

“I love baseball,” I answered. “I’ve been dying to go to a Dodger game.”

I shifted my gaze a few inches to the right and I could make out the crest in the hills that marked Beachwood Canyon. Dave’s little log cabin was still there, as was Chloe’s place, but I never drove up Beachwood anymore. Chloe’s old house had been put on the market a few months ago, and the Realtor had wanted me to do a walk-through there, but I’d shot that idea down. Chloe didn’t have a view.

I’d heard from someone recently that a Dumpster was parked in front of her old place, indicating that at least one buyer hadn’t been turned off by the idea of a murder having occurred there. The new owners were expanding the place upward and out.

“Will you be living here with a special someone? Are you both going to be qualifying for the loan?” the Realtor pressed.

I continued to take in the gorgeous views. “No, I’m going to be living here alone. Well, I’ll be living with my cat, Lucy.”

A panicked look flashed across the Realtor’s face. I was sure he was wondering how a woman on her own could afford a place like this.

“I can make a large cash deposit,” I assured him, turning to face him. “So I’m sure getting the loan will be no problem.”