A freeway exit led to the old town of Folsom. Developments, visible from the road, looked like upscale housing mass-produced for urban professionals—two-story block houses with three-car garages and room for a pool. According to the Google map, the turnoff for Golden Heights wasn’t far away.

“I did some research on this area last night,” Bai said. “The high-tech industry has invested heavily in Folsom. A couple of research-and-development campuses have poured hundreds of millions into the community. The white-collar jobs make property in this area a promising investment since homeowners would be mostly professionals—engineers and scientists.”

Lee pointed off to the right. “This is the road coming up. You’re going to want to turn here.”

As he suggested, she steered the car onto a two-lane blacktop road. They drove a short way before cresting a rise that blocked the main thoroughfare from view. A half-mile farther down the road, they came across another ridge where brick walls abutted the lane. About eight feet in height, the walls curved around the knoll in both directions. Large metal letters, painted gold, proclaimed the name of the development—“Golden Heights.”

She stopped the car to look.

“It certainly looks promising,” offered Lee.

“What? The sign?” she asked.

He looked at her and smiled. “I’m just saying the brick walls are impressive and the gold lettering is nice. I have a good feeling about this place.”

“Who knows?” she conceded. “Maybe Benny scored the big one.”

Race leaned forward from the backseat to look at the sign but didn’t offer an opinion.

She placed the car back in gear and drove slowly past the brick walls. The road took a steep turn down a hill into a small vale filled with large oak trees. They followed the road out of the vale to crest a second hill. The road suddenly came to an end. Braking slowly, she nudged the nose of the car to the edge of the asphalt and turned to stare at Lee.

“Where’s the development?” asked Race from the backseat.

She turned to look silently through the windshield. The hill sloped down to reveal a wide valley filled with scrub and tall oak trees. Where the asphalt road stopped, a dirt road picked up to disappear into the woods a short distance from the car. She reached forward to turn the engine off and open the door before getting out of the car to view the scenery.

She walked to the front of the car. Lee and Race joined her as she looked over the unspoiled valley. Tranquility blanketed the pastoral landscape. Bai became immersed in the solitude of the countryside. It was quiet, peaceful.

Lee’s voice, soft and questioning, interrupted her thoughts. “What’s happening here?”

A suspicion had begun to form. She turned to look at him, her mouth skewed in consternation. “It’s more like what didn’t happen here.”

“I don’t get it,” said Race. “Where’s the development?”

Turning aside to look at Race, she barked a humorless laugh. His look of surprise made her laugh again. If both Benny and her money hadn’t been missing, the situation would have been a lot funnier.

Race stared at her, obviously questioning her odd behavior.

She reached out to grab his arm. “I’m sorry, John. I’m not laughing at you. It’s just the circumstances have me a little rattled. You see,” she said, motioning with her arm to take in the valley below, “there is no development. It’s a scam.”

He stared at her in confusion. “I still don’t get it.”

She took a second to look out over the valley.

“I have the feeling I’m the spoiler. Or rather, Benny was the spoiler. I’m guessing he got himself involved in an auction he wasn’t invited to attend. I believe it’s a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time and screwing with the wrong people.”

Lee gestured at the valley below. “I still don’t get it.”

She could see from Race’s expression he still didn’t get it either. The men turned to her for an explanation.

“All right then,” she said, taking a deep breath. “Suppose I wanted to make money in a down economy, but nobody was buying what I was selling. In this case, houses. If I owned this land, I could go to a friendly bank, one where I had friends on the board of directors. My friendly bankers might provide a loan to put in sewers and water for this subdivision. But, instead of putting the money into installing sewer and water lines, let’s say I put most of the money into my pocket. I then used some of the money to purchase false documentation and bribe key officials to support the fabrication that sewer and water lines were properly installed. The documented improvement would increase the value of the property. I would then be free to take out another loan to put in the electrical and gas improvements, again increasing the value of the holding. This, in turn, would allow me to get another loan for sidewalks and streets, and so on. Every time I increase the value of the land on paper, I have the ability to justify more loans against the property. We’re talking about tens of millions of dollars.”

“But at some point don’t you have to sell houses to get the money back?” asked Race.

“Not if you’re a crook,” she said with a sense of futility. “I would guess whoever took the loans out on this property was in collusion with an insider at the bank. They let the property go into foreclosure with the assumption they could buy it back at a fraction of its assumed value. A lot of foreclosures are on the market now. Most properties sell for far less than their actual worth, especially with the secret auction system the banks have devised for insiders. In the end, the shareholders of the bank will assume the loss on the defaulted loans. With all of the defaults taking place, it’s pretty unlikely anyone would bother to follow up to see if this property had actually been improved as the paperwork claims.”

“But Benny stepped in and bought the property out from under them,” said Lee, nodding his head in understanding. “They must have come unglued when they realized that their entire scheme was about to unravel.”

“But why kill you?” Race asked. “You had nothing to do with this.”

She turned to him and took a moment to study his face. He seemed sincere in his concern.

“I suspect they were buying time. If I were to die, this property along with most of my holdings would go into probate. They’d have months—probably years—to cover their tracks. My death would give them time to regain possession of the property.”

Lee spoke up. “So to avoid exposure, they kill everybody associated with the purchase of the property? Now we’re talking about a conspiracy of bankers and developers, just to start. Who knows how many people are involved?”

She noticed that Race had stopped paying attention. He stared up. Following his gaze, she strained to see a cluster of black birds circling in the gray sky above.

He pointed to where he was looking. “Do you see those birds?”

“Hawks?” she asked.

“You’re close.” He dropped his gaze to look at her. “They’re carrion birds—turkey vultures—sailing on a thermal updraft.”

Lee stared at the birds and then at Race. “Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking?”

Race took a moment to unravel the question. “It doesn’t matter what I think. It’s what they think,” he replied, while pointing his finger up into the air, “and they think something down there is dead. Or dying.” He looked down into the wooded valley. “But they’re not down there having lunch. Their caution leads me to believe there’s something, or someone, protecting the kill.”

He looked around at the surrounding hills, putting his hands on his hips. “These foothills are home to mountain lions. It could be a lion has killed a deer and is sitting on the carcass.”

“Or?” She asked, pretty sure she already knew what he was going to say.

He knelt on one knee at the end of the road and pointed at rows of tire tracks grooved into the soil. “Some of these tracks are recent, the last couple of days. You can see how the wind hasn’t had time to wear down the edges of the impression; the lines are still strong and clean.”

“Do you think Benny might be down there?” she asked.

“Anything’s possible,” he said, getting to his feet. “If I were Benny and had just spent five million dollars of your money, I’d want to get a good look at this property. It could be that someone was waiting here for him.”

“It could be that he’s still alive and being held down there as bait to draw us in,” she theorized. “What do you think we should do?”

Lee interrupted. “We’re here, and we’re armed. I say we take a look.”

Race looked at him and then at her. His expression was troubled. “The smart thing would be to turn around and call the cops. But I’m guessing you’re not going to do that.”

Her shoulders lifted in a shrug of acknowledgment. “I think you’re beginning to understand me. He’s my friend. Leaving him down there isn’t an option. We’re going to find him and bring him home.” She pulled the Beretta out of its holster at her back, racked the slide to chamber a bullet, and flipped off the safety with her thumb. “Besides, I’m tired of being hunted.”

He reached out to put his hand on her gun and gently push it down to point at the ground. “All right, Annie Oakley. I understand your feelings. But let’s not be stupid about this. If it’s a trap, and it certainly has the look of one, let’s not run blindly into it. Let me work my way into the valley quietly, on foot, to see what the situation is.”

She was anxious and didn’t want to wait. “How long will it take you to get down there?”

“Give me time to work my way around the ridge and come back from the other side. I need a chance to familiarize myself with the terrain and to look for anything suspicious. And I need to do it slowly.”

“Do as he asks,” Lee urged. He leaned against the fender of the car and watched Race with interest. “There’s no point in rushing into a trap if we can avoid it. Remember what Ho Chan always told us. ‘If you are in a hurry, you will never get there.’”

She looked from Lee to Race, reluctant to sit idly by while Benny might be in trouble. “You’ve got an hour. Then I’m going down there to see what’s what—with or without you.”

Race looked at his watch and then at her.

“One hour,” he repeated.