Chapter 2
Marleena’s home sprawled across an acre of land. The front door stood open, and no doubt it was an expensive sound system that sent Vivaldi’s music spilling into the air as Greg and River entered. The long foyer led to a living room with floor-to-ceiling glass that looked out on the red-brick patio and pool. Greg could see the sharp lavender rise of the San Jacinto Mountains in the dusk. The house said “money,” with its thick, light-colored carpets, soft brown leather furniture, and original artwork on the walls. He recognized a decorator’s touch—another sign of wealth.
“Rio! So glad you came. Who’s your friend?” Marleena’s blonde hair was a casual cap that flattered her fine features and drew out the Irish moss-green of her eyes. Her dress brought to mind Marilyn Monroe’s in t
