“Me too.” Her response came out in a croak.

Oh, for pity’s sake. She sounded like a lovestruck adolescent.

If Nate noticed, he was gallant enough to let it pass. “I’ll ask Russ to request a fast turnaround from the lab.”

“Thanks.”

“Busy day?”

“Road trip. Two autopsies in different counties.”

“In other words, long day.”

“Longer than most, but I knew what I was signing up for with this job. Will you let me know what Lorraine’s attorney has to say about her finances and next of kin?”

“Yes.”

“I wish you didn’t have to work tomorrow while everyone else celebrates Fourth of July with picnics and fireworks.”

“Holidays are our busiest times. What are you going to do?”

“Veg at my house. I was going to go to St. Louis and hang out with my sisters, but Cate has to work too.”

“You could use a veg day—and we’ll make up for the missed fireworks on Saturday.” His slow smile was far more potent than any pyrotechnics that would light up the sky tomorrow night. Then he squeezed her fingers and reentered the house.

Or crime scene, if her suspicions proved correct.

Grace returned to her car, slid behind the wheel, and drove down the gravel drive toward the main road.

Despite Russ’s skepticism, with every day that passed she was more convinced that the older residents on their radar were victims. Too many pieces of the puzzle were missing to answer the critical who and why questions, but they were getting close to a resolution. She could feel it.

That was the good news.

The bad news?

Her intuition told her the person behind the scheme that was ruthlessly claiming lives knew they were closing in.

And just as the gray dust churned up by her tires followed her like a menacing specter, danger would continue to hover until the perpetrator was uncovered and put behind bars.

Another one out of the way.

BK locked the door, twisted the knob to verify it was secure, and walked away.

Too bad Lorraine had insisted on a refund. Back-to-back deaths weren’t ideal, but as long as her demise didn’t raise any red flags, what difference did it make?

And there was no basis for anyone to consider her death suspicious. She had heart issues, and she was close to eighty. The coroner wouldn’t have any grounds to investigate.

Even if Grace Reilly got it into her head that he should.

Teeth clenched, BK mashed down the autolock button on the key fob.

The county pathologist was getting to be a royal pain in the butt. If the woman had any sense, she’d have paid attention to the warnings. She must have a stubborn—or stupid—streak a mile wide, despite all her academic credentials.

If she continued to make waves, she’d have to be dealt with.

But Lorraine would be the last victim for a while. With almost half a million in the offshore account, there was no urgency to find a new customer.