Washington, DC – Monday, Feb. 24, 9:00 a.m. EST Sara reviewed the security-system keypad, verifying the windows and doors of the widow’s house were closed. She pushed “arm,” and ensured the heavy front door locked behind her. Hurrying toward the Spring Valley Plaza on Massachusetts, passing mansion after mansion, she tried to get her mind off her troubles by considering which home she would buy, if she had enough money. She remembered Evy had said you couldn’t pay her to live

Washington, DC – Sunday, Feb. 23, 10:00 a.m. EST Anna woke up late and headed straight for her programmable coffee machine, which had finished brewing a pot right on time—several hours earlier. She poured a lukewarm cup. The wound on her leg ached, and her head wound felt tender. She longed to play a game of racquetball to let off steam, but her body was in no condition. She checked her voicemail. There were only a few messages. Besides the usual scams, Tanner had left one sa

Washington, DC – Wednesday, Feb. 19, 4:00 p.m. EST Sara Reedman stood in the kitchen of the Georgian mansion in Spring Valley where she was cat-sitting—way out Massachusetts Avenue in Upper Northwest, past American University—and emptied the bottle of cabernet sauvignon into her water glass. She took a gulp and banged the glass down on the counter. She steadied her gaze on the door to the butler’s pantry. Her phone was in there. She had stowed it in a drawer that morning, aft