Marley studied the home’s exterior, thinking it was exactly the sort of place she imagined April and Bethany living in. There was very little grass in the front yard—xeriscaping, she’d heard it called. The high desert landscape lacked the water that made for lush forests and lawns on the other side of the mountains, so environmentally conscious Central Oregonians landscaped with river rock and drought-resistant native shrubs. The home was painted a neutral taupe with sunny yellow trim and a red door. An orange cat snoozed in an Adirondack chair adorning the wide front porch, and two gnarled juniper trees hunkered on either side of the driveway. “Looks like they’ve got company,” Will said. “What?” He gestured at the street, where Marley spotted at least a dozen cars parked neatly against the curb. They ran the gamut from glossy BMWs to minivans with car seats in back to Volkswagen busses decorated with political bumper stickers.
