Because other than that tiny clump of hair, they had nothing. The crime scenes were clean and there were no witnesses. There was no absolute proof Steve Jackson was their man.

Without that, he could walk.

Meaning Eve’s life could still be in danger.

“That’s odd.” Meg stopped as she passed the front window and peered outside.

Steve took a long pull from his beer and continued toward his recliner. If he ignored her, maybe she’d shut up. After working in the heat for eight hours, he wanted to cool off and veg—not listen to his wife’s inane chatter.

“I wonder why that detective who’s working on Eve’s case would be in front of our house?”

The swig of brew he’d swallowed lodged in his windpipe, and Steve started coughing.

Meg was beside him in an instant, her voice dripping with concern. “Are you all right, honey?”

“Fine.” He choked out the response and sped toward the window as he tried to catch his breath.

But the sight outside froze his lungs, cutting off his air supply.

Two tall guys in jackets and ties were talking on the sidewalk in front of his house.

If one of them was the investigator on Eve’s case, this visit was bad news.

Very bad.

“Are you certain that’s the detective?” He threw the question over his shoulder as he watched the men.

“Yes.” Meg joined him. “He’s the one on the left. He came to the station to review the threatening notes I pulled from Eve’s social media and the letters she gets from listeners. I saw him up close.”

Steve bit back a curse—but a second later it slipped out as the two men started up the walk toward the front door.

What was going on?

“Steve—what’s wrong?” Meg edged closer to him, trepidation etched on her features.

“Nothing.”

He hoped.

It was possible they were here to talk to Meg. She’d been involved in the case from the beginning.

Yet it was doubtful his wife was the person they’d come to see.

And if she wasn’t, he wanted her out of here until he heard what they had to say and came up with a plan to deal with it.

The two men stepped up onto the porch.

He angled toward Meg. “Could they be here to talk to you about the case?”

“I doubt it. If they wanted to ask me any questions, they could do it at the station. Or call me.” She wrinkled her brow. “But why else would they come here?”

“I guess we’ll find out.” The doorbell rang, and he gripped her arm as she turned to answer it. “If they’re here to see me, I want you to leave the house. Make an excuse. You have to go to the grocery store, pick up dry cleaning. Anything.”

“Why?” The grooves on her forehead deepened.