“What happened to your head?” Grace dropped her overnight bag to the floor with a thump—suggesting she didn’t intend to move until she had answers.

So much for her camouflage efforts.

“I ran into a bit of trouble yesterday. After you both get settled we can—”

“Forget it. I’m not budging until you tell us what happened.” Grace circled around behind her to examine the gash. “That is one nasty cut. Do you have a concussion?”

“Mild. I’ll be fine. Why don’t we sit?” She motioned toward the living room in the two-bedroom suite the department had booked under her “father’s” name.

“Wow.” Eve gave the spacious accommodations an appreciative perusal, juggling her bag in one hand and a small cake box in the other. “Some big bucks are being spent on this case.”

“I told you my assignment was cushy.”

“You didn’t mention the dangerous part.” Grace folded her arms. “Where else are you hurt?”

Leave it to a forensic pathologist to wonder about hidden damage.

“I have bruised ribs. So expect a very gentle birthday hug.”

“I can do gentle. Tell us what—”

“Grace.” Eve nudged their sister. “We’ll get to that. Cate probably would be more comfortable sitting—and I have to put this hazelnut white chocolate cheesecake in the fridge.” She lifted the box.

Grace swung toward her, face lighting up. “Is that from Hank’s?”

“Where else?”

Her sister gave a little squeal and clapped her hands. “Thank you for splurging.”

“Hey, thirtieth birthdays only come around once. And since Cate said our meals would be covered by room service, we won’t have to shell out big bucks to take you to dinner. This is the least I could do.”

“Maybe I’ll order caviar.” Grace grinned.

“Let’s not get carried away.” Cate motioned toward the bar area. “The cheesecake can go in there. The bedroom on the right has a king bed. I hope you two won’t mind sharing. I claimed the queen in the other room. In light of my sore ribs, I figured that would be safer, knowing how a certain birthday girl sometimes thrashes around in her sleep.”

“Do not.”

“You did last time we shared a bed.”

Grace sniffed. “That was years ago, when I was going through a growth spurt. At least I don’t snore.”

“I don’t either.”

“Yeah? You sure about that?” Grace’s hazel irises twinkled with mischief. “You have any witnesses to prove you’re a silent sleeper as an adult?”

Cate managed to hang on to her smile. “Do you think I’d tell you if I did?”

“I’ll take that as a no, given the strict moral code Mom and Dad drummed into us.” Grace picked up her bag and headed toward the bedroom. “You have a five-minute reprieve. Then I want the whole story about what happened to you.” She disappeared through the door.