He followed them, twisted the knob, and let them out in silence.

After he secured the lock, he moved to the window and watched from the side as they retraced their steps down the walk.

They paused for less than a minute to talk at the end of the sidewalk, then peeled off toward their separate cars. They couldn’t have covered much ground beyond acknowledging they’d run into a dead end.

Yet they could continue digging tomorrow.

Steve returned to the living room and dropped into his chair.

No matter how much they dug, though, he should be safe. The hair was a mistake—but that was his only one.

Nevertheless, it was important that Meg keep her mouth shut about his absence last Saturday night if those detectives happened to speak with her.

An instruction he would pass on as soon as she got home.

She’d have questions, but a little fast talking and a healthy dose of affection would put those to rest. Meg was all about keeping the waters at home smooth—and she was a sucker for a little smooching.

Yeah, she’d be easy to keep in line.

And once the detectives realized they had nothing worthwhile to pursue, they’d let this go—and he’d be home free.

15

THE DOORBELL RANG on Friday morning at precisely five-fifteen, and Eve smiled.

Punctuality joined the list of Brent’s many other attributes.

As she entered the small foyer, she ran her fingers through her hair. Rising in what felt like the middle of the night wasn’t her favorite part of the radio gig—but being chauffeured by a handsome man made the pre-dawn jangle of the alarm much more palatable.

She pulled open the door and gave Brent’s crisp white shirt, silk tie, tailored jacket, and dress slacks a fast sweep. The more formal attire suited him, but she’d be willing to bet he’d exchange it in a heartbeat for jeans and a T-shirt.

Which also suited him.

“Morning.” He smiled at her, fine lines crinkling at the corners of his eyes.

“You look chipper for such an early hour.” She smoothed a hand down the tunic that hit her leggings mid-thigh and motioned him in.

“Law enforcement isn’t a nine-to-five gig.” He entered, his gaze heating up as he discreetly surveyed the casual attire that was one of the perks of a job where her audience never saw her. “I learned long ago to function on less-than-optimal amounts of sleep.”

“Well, I hope you turned in early last night to compensate for the long day ahead.”

“That was my plan, but I got called to a crime scene on my way home. I didn’t hit the sheets until after midnight.”

“Ouch.” She winced. “You should have left me a text message and cancelled this morning. I could have driven myself.”

“Not an option.” His tone brooked no arguments. “Are you ready to go?”