Gated Prey (Eve Ronin #3)(4)

“That doesn’t mean the series will happen,” Eve said. “And even if it does, I’m not giving up this job.”

The idea of her life becoming a TV series made her nauseous. She pushed her sandwich aside. She’d only accepted the deal because a series would be made with or without her involvement and so she’d have the money to hire a decent lawyer. Eve knew it was only a matter of time before she was sued by the widow of the deputy who’d killed himself as a result of her last investigation, the one that left her with a broken sternum.

“The job may give you up first,” Duncan said.

“The department is certainly trying.”

“Yeah, this is brutal,” he said, shaking his head. “Seriously, you need to learn how to relax or you’re gonna burn yourself out before you hit thirty.”

He took another bite of his sandwich. They were quiet for a long moment, then she said, “Urine-soaked dirt?”

“What?”

“Why would we put our cardboard boxes on urine-soaked dirt?”

“Because you enjoy suffering.”

Movement on one of the iPad feeds caught Eve’s eye. She picked up the iPad and saw three men in sunglasses wearing orange-and-yellow SoCalGas company vests over their khaki shirts and blue SoCalGas baseball caps, the brims pulled low over their faces, approaching the front door. The man in the lead held a clipboard. She turned the iPad so Duncan could see the feeds, too.

“We have some visitors,” she said. “I don’t see a gas company truck on the street, do you?”

“Maybe it’s parked around the corner.” He didn’t say it with much conviction.

Her heartbeat jacked up. “Do you think this is it?”

He nodded and slid off his barstool. “Let’s not call the cavalry until we’re sure. You answer the door when they knock. I’ll be in the living room.”

Duncan went to the hallway and got his walker. Eve watched the iPad as the men came to the door. She knew the deputy at Lost Hills was seeing the video feeds, too, and she hoped that he’d already told the dispatcher to alert the nearest patrol cars.

The doorbell rang.

Here we go.





CHAPTER TWO


Eve hid the iPad in the silverware drawer and walked to the front door. The three men were standing outside. Anytime she saw three men she didn’t know, she dubbed them Manny, Moe, and Jack, the Pep Boys, until she had their names. Manny was facing the door, but Moe and Jack were behind him, with their heads bowed down, the brims of their hats obscuring their faces. But she could still tell the Pep Boys were white.

Eve opened the door a crack. “Can I help you?”

“We’re with the gas company,” Manny said. “You have a leak.”

She guessed that Manny was in his mid-to late twenties, just like her. Moe appeared to be about the same age. Manny was blocking her from getting a good view of Jack’s face.

“You must have the wrong house,” Eve said. “We didn’t call you.”

“It’s showing up on our readouts at the office.” Manny held up his clipboard, displaying a piece of paper with a graph on it. “We need to come in, make sure there’s no gas buildup or the house could explode. There’ll be nothing left but a smoking crater.”

Duncan hobbled up on his walker behind Eve. “We don’t smell any gas.”

“Maybe you have a stuffy nose,” Manny said.

“I don’t.”

“We have to check anyway,” Manny said, irritation creeping into his voice. “It’s for your own safety.”

Eve reached into her pocket and squeezed the button on her key fob, alerting the deputy at Lost Hills that the invasion was going down. “Come in, but take off your shoes. We don’t want you scuffing up the travertine.”

She stepped aside, and opened the door wide, to let them in.

As Manny entered, he smacked Eve’s face with the clipboard, taking her by surprise. When she looked back at him, her cheeks stinging and her eyes tearing up, he was holding a gun in her face. “Fuck your travertine, bitch.”

The other two men spilled in behind Manny, both pulling out guns before Duncan had a chance to go for his, which was hidden under his big untucked camouflage shirt.

Moe pressed the barrel of his weapon against Duncan’s forehead and said, “Empty your pockets and take off your watch.”

“You can have whatever you want. Please don’t hurt us.” Duncan took out his wad of cash, which Jack grabbed from his hand and stuffed into his own pocket, and then Duncan slipped the fake Rolex off his wrist, which Jack took, too.

Manny kicked the front door shut behind him, then yanked off Eve’s gold Tiffany necklace from her neck. “Give me your ring.”

She pulled off the wedding ring, with its huge fake diamond, and dropped it into his open hand.

He stuffed the jewelry into his shirt pocket. “Where’s the safe?”

“We don’t have one,” Duncan said.

Moe pistol-whipped him across the face. “Bullshit.”

Duncan staggered back but held his balance. The gun’s front sight had slashed his cheek like a knife. Blood streaked down his face and dripped onto his camouflage shirt. Eve stole a glance up at the security camera lens, as if it were the faceless, distant deputy’s own eyes.