“And at second glance?”

“We don’t have that yet. Homicide is going over the place with tweezers now. No one thinks it’s an accident. Spontaneous electrocutions in hot tubs don’t happen. Not unless the wiring with the tub had been tampered with. Which brings me to the victims themselves.”

“What about them?”

“They were squatters.”

“Squatters?”

“The whole damn country is filling up with them. People who move into abandoned or bank-owned homes and take up residency. Banks hate being landlords and many of the properties they’ve foreclosed on in the last five years are still vacant. People move in, get a bill or two in their name, and now the bank has to evict them. There are groups of people all over who organize squatting.”

Blake shook his head. “So these people live free for what? Six months?”

“Or a year…sometimes longer. Only when a real estate agent comes around to inspect do they find the problem. Hell, San Francisco banks can own houses in Pacoima, and use San Diego agents to handle selling them. Needless to say, many times the agent never even sees the house. It’s a mess.”

“How the hell do they get the power turned on?”

“In this case, they were stealing power from the neighbors, Gwen and Karen included.”

“Neil told me there were problems with the monitors at the house every time the neighbors used the Jacuzzi.”

“And he never found the problem because he didn’t have access to the neighbors’ house. The fact that the squatters stole the power leads me to believe there could be a plausible explanation for their demise.”

Oh, now Blake was very confused. “If that’s true then Neil overreacted?”

“I’m not saying that yet. Neil doesn’t strike me as an impulsive man. He’s so damn quiet most of the time I don’t have a clue what’s going on in his head.”

Yeah…but Blake remembered a time when Neil was as impulsive as a teenager getting lucky for the first time.

“Where the hell is he?”

“Don’t know. He was ripping the place apart before I left your house. You’ll see the mess he left behind. All his equipment is in your den. It’s like he was setting up a fortress in there. Scared the shit out of Mary.”

“And Gwen?”

“She was already upset about the neighbors. I came back yesterday morning and found them gone. Dillon gave me this.” Dean handed him a handwritten note.

Dean

Keep all conversations outside of the Malibu and Tarzana houses. Everything I set up has been compromised.

I will notify you in seventy-two hours with more information.

If you don’t hear from me, have Carter contact the Commander in Chief. Give them my name. And code name: Raven.

Mac

“Seventy-two hours?”

“Thirty-six as of this morning.”

Blake ran a hand through his hair. “Commander in chief? Who is he talking about?”

Dean leveled his eyes with his. “I think he’s talking about the president.”

Blake’s skin chilled. What the f**k did Neil drag his sister into?

Chapter Fifteen

Two consecutive nights of sleeping in the backseat of a small car was enough. Sure, it helped that Neil had managed to find two of the most beautiful places in which to camp, but enough!

The Nevada morning had taken her by surprise. The cliff they’d parked next to jutted hundreds of feet in the air with nothing but bright blue sky beyond. In the light of day, their impromptu campground felt less threatening.

Nothing prepared Gwen for Utah. She’d seen pictures, but had never been. The landscape was candy for her eyes. She sounded like a recording with her constant “brilliant, and stunning” being uttered from her lips.

The fierce winds that shaped the cliffs and vistas also blew their tiny car around.

“It’s lovely,” she said as they rounded another corner and one more picture worthy view met her eyes.

“It is.”

He hadn’t done more than brush his hands against hers since their kiss. He seemed to have found the comfortable distance he’d said he needed in order to stay alert. That didn’t mean she didn’t see him watching her every so often.

Neil had three days’ growth on his face, and she loved it. Handsome, in his harsh way, he somehow softened with the beard. His short hair made the beard look deliberate instead of lazy. She wouldn’t even mind the scrape of it on her skin. Everywhere.

He had paid for everything with cash. Even Gwen, who hadn’t watched that many movies about fleeing men and women, knew that credit cards could be traced. They were completely off the grid, as they say. No one knew them, no one would be able to find them like this. With anyone but Neil, the thought might frighten her. Instead, she felt liberated.

“Please tell me we’ll find lodging tonight.”

“We’ll see.”

“Neil, please. My clothing needs a good wash and I don’t think you’ve slept more than an hour or two at a time.”

“I don’t need a lot of sleep.”

“Oh, posh. Everyone needs to sleep. My attempts to clean up have been less than adequate. A bed and running water, please.” She poured sugar into her request. “You know no one is following us out here.”

He made a point of checking the rearview mirror.

“There’s no one back there.”

He sighed. “We need to buy a few things…before we check into a hotel.”

She clapped her hands like a schoolgirl, jumped over the seat, and planted her lips to his rough cheek. “Thank you. I can’t wait to be clean again.” She settled back in her seat and counted the mile markers to the next town.

They found a corner store that seemed to have a little of everything. Like a mini Walmart, there was clothing for the whole family in a few aisles and groceries in the other.

“We won’t be here long. Don’t talk to anyone.”

Gwen made a keying motion on her lips and smiled. He handed her two twenties. “I’ll grab some food, you get whatever you need.”

She hopped out of the car and practically skipped inside the store. After grabbing a basket and finding the shampoo aisle, she bought a couple of travel size shampoo and conditioners, soap, and a razor. She walked past the hair dye and stopped. She found a washable tint in both brown and red, tossed them inside. Lip gloss, bug repellant. The important things.

A woman walked past her and Gwen pretended to read the back of one of the boxes.