EVIL 20 Justin slammed the door of the rental car and stared up at the Big House, taking in the arches of the balcony, the red tile roof, and the lookout tower with its dragonfly weather vane. “So, this is the Velasquez manor?” “Yeah.” My skin was sticky and hot, and I'd done nothing but climb out of the car. I'd gotten used to the breeze from the Gulf, but today the air was muggy and still. Henry pried himself out of the backseat of the Escort. Since neither of the guys was old enough to rent a car from a major company, they'd had to find what they could, and the subcompact wasn't really built for a person of Henry's height. Justin nodded toward the porch, where a woman stood like a sentry on a drawbridge. “Is that Doña Isabel?” “No,” I said. The figure was small and plump, her shoes sensible. “That's the housekeeper.” “She looks like she's expecting us,” said Henry. “Lisa's boyfriend must have called ahead.” “I didn't tell him we were coming.” Just the opposite, in fact.
