“I’m listening.”

“This is going to sound off-the-wall.”

“Trust me, I’ve heard everything in this job—and I’m not a big believer in coincidences. Tell me what you found.”

Nate cranked up the air in the sweltering car as Mullins launched into his story, struggling to keep his exasperation in check as the man provided irrelevant details about cleaning out his wife’s file on the meal delivery program sponsored by area churches.

But his interest perked up at the name pairings.

“The same name showed up with every one of the victims of the fraud scheme—as the food courier. I never knew until today that all my clients were signed up for meal deliveries.”

Nate’s fingers began to tingle, as they used to overseas on high-stakes missions when his unit was on the cusp of enemy engagement.

If the victims had been poisoned, as Grace suspected, how better to do it than through a volunteer-run humanitarian meal program that would never arouse suspicion?

“Give me the name.” He pulled out his notebook.

“This is the off-the-wall part.”

“Like I said, nothing surprises me in this job.”

“It’s not someone you’d ever suspect.”

“It often isn’t.”

Silence.

“Mr. Mullins?”

A sigh came over the line. “Remember, I’m just the messenger.” Another pause. “It’s Eleanor Duncan.”

In the silence that followed, a cloud scuttled across the sun, dimming the daylight as Nate tried to wrap his mind around the name the man had passed on.

Eleanor Duncan?

The department’s administrative assistant?

The woman who’d worked for the county for more than thirty years?

The kindhearted soul who’d brought him soup and did everything by the book?

Impossible.

“I told you it was off-the-wall.”

As Mullins spoke again, Nate wiped a hand down his face and stared at the dilapidated trailer a hundred yards away that had appeared innocuous until the nastiness festering inside was exposed.

“I need a minute to process this.”

“Maybe it’s a coincidence, like I said.”

Much as he’d like to believe that, Nate knew in his gut that wasn’t the case. Bizarre as it was, they had their killer.

Why Eleanor had orchestrated such a lethal undertaking was beyond him, but all the pieces fit.

Proving it, however, could be a challenge. The woman had left no clues behind to tie her to the deaths. Or none they’d found.

But perhaps there was evidence in her house.

They had to get a search warrant ASAP.

“I don’t think it’s a coincidence.” He forced the left side of his brain to engage. “Keep the papers you found until someone can come collect them. If your burner phone happens to ring, ignore it. I’ll be in touch.” He ended the call.

With Eleanor about to leave town, it was imperative to get the warrant in the works on the double.

Ironically enough, under normal circumstances he’d call their admin, have her fill out the form so it was ready for his signature, and ask her to alert the associate judge to meet him at the courthouse to sign the warrant.