Sheesh. Was her attraction to the man that obvious?

“One piece of advice. If you flash that starry-eyed expression at your sheriff, he’ll be begging you for a date. Guys find women who are attracted to them irresistible.” Eve leaned over and gave her a hug.

She must be more transparent than she thought.

Better work on her poker face in case she and Nate bumped into each other again. She wouldn’t want him to think she was too interested. There was merit in playing hard to get.

Wasn’t there?

After Cate hugged Eve, Grace walked out to the street with her oldest sister.

“Call me if your guy finds out anything about the vandals—and be careful.”

“I will.”

They paused beside her Civic. “I hope you find someone wonderful someday, Grace.” Cate’s usual take-charge manner softened as she switched into the mother-substitute role she’d taken on after their mom died far too young. “I know love and romance were always more important to you than to me and Eve, but now that I have Zeke—well, I want that for you too.”

This kinder, gentler side of Cate never failed to choke her up. Her oldest sister rarely showed her sensitive, sentimental streak.

“Thank you. If it’s meant to be, it will happen. I’m just happy both of you found terrific guys.”

“There’s someone out there for you too. I know it. Someone who won’t care in the least that you cut up dead bodies for a living.” A teasing glint sparked in Cate’s eyes.

“Thanks for the pep talk.” She leaned over and gave her a hug.

“That’s what big sisters are for. Drive safe.”

“Always.”

“I don’t envy you the long trip.”

“I’m used to it, after working for coroners in six counties.” With a wave, she circled the car and slid into the driver’s seat.

As she tooled toward home, she considered her entertainment options. Music always helped pass the extended hours she spent behind the wheel. Or she could listen to one of the audiobooks she kept in the car.

Or maybe she’d spend the next two hours daydreaming about being swept off her feet by a handsome sheriff.

Even if such fantasies had no more basis in reality than the futuristic sci-fi novel on her nightstand.

5

HAPPY MONDAY, ELEANOR.” Nate set a lidded paper cup from the local coffee shop on the department administrator’s desk.

The fiftyish woman looked up from her computer screen. Faint furrows etched her brow despite the spark of interest in her eyes. “You don’t have to bring me mochas.”

“I thought you liked them.”

“I do—but it doesn’t seem right.”

“Why not?” He already knew the answer. Her previous boss of twenty-plus years had been old school. No personal involvement with staff. Formalities and rank were strictly observed. He’d called her Eleanor, but she’d called him Sheriff. Fetching or making coffee hadn’t been part of his routine.

She remained wary about the relaxed code her new boss had initiated and his “we’re a team” mentality, but his mocha Mondays campaign should eventually win her over.