“Nonsense.” The woman waved aside her comment. “As long as you’re here, why not pass on the message in person? There isn’t enough face-to-face communication these days. Everyone’s always glued to their cellphones.”

“Really . . . I don’t want to bother him.” She edged away.

“Don’t you worry about that. I expect he can spare a few minutes for a brief meeting after working through lunch—again.” She shook her head. “He insists I take my lunch break. Says getting away from the office in the middle of the day refreshes the mind. But does the man follow his own advice? No. It will do him good to talk to someone who’s not complaining or reporting a crime.”

Grace watched the woman march up the steps.

She was stuck.

But truth be told, it was hard to feel bad about being railroaded into a meeting she wanted to have.

Eleanor waited for her at the door as Grace ascended. “I sure was sorry to hear about the vandalism to your car. And at a funeral home, of all places.” She tut-tutted as she pulled the door open and the blessedly cool inside air enveloped them. “I know the sheriff is trying his best to find a lead or two, but those kinds of cases are hard to solve.”

“I don’t expect miracles. I’m chalking the whole experience up to having the bad luck of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Well, you be careful.” The woman patted her arm as they walked toward the sheriff’s department offices. “I’ve seen my share of crazies in this job. From afar, of course. I expect your situation was an isolated incident, but it never hurts to be extra cautious after an experience like that.”

A niggle of unease snaked through Grace as she accompanied the woman down the hall.

There were crazies out there, as she knew firsthand.

And the vandalism wasn’t an isolated incident, coming on the heels of the late-night visitor who’d snapped off all her lily buds. An innocuous exercise that hadn’t harmed anyone—but two back-to-back incidents could suggest someone had her in their sights.

Or perhaps it was nothing more than an odd coincidence. As the seeds could be.

Except Nate didn’t put much stock in happenstance, and neither did she.

“Give me one minute to ditch my purse, and I’ll let the sheriff know you’re here, Dr. Reilly.”

“Thanks. And please, call me Grace.”

Eleanor waved off that request. “You worked hard for that title. You deserve to be called by it. I have great respect for accomplished people. Using titles is the least I can do to recognize their success.”

An old-fashioned attitude, but also endearing.

“I appreciate that.”

“See if you can convince the sheriff to leave me be on that score while you’re in there, if you get an opening.” She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “He’s been after me to use his first name too.”

“If an opportunity comes up, I’ll pass along our discussion.”