The killer stood in the rain. Cold droplets pelted his shoulders and the brim of his hat. He was well hidden in the shadow of the spruce tree with its thick branches.
Most of the houses on this street were quiet, their windows dark, with only a porch light beaming in the night. The house he watched, however, was lit up. Light poured from almost every window, falling across the neat lawn and the driveway where the white minivan rested, its engine still ticking as it released its heat into the chilly air.
He knew it had been well used on the long drive today. Following the daughter’s social media, he’d tracked the quartet from Yosemite to Yellowstone. Social media could be so useful.
soYet when he’d selected the family weeks ago, it hadn’t been the daughter who’d caught his eye. It had be
