“Yes—as soon as I grab our coffee. Give me a sec.”

She hurried to the kitchen to retrieve the two insulated travel mugs she’d prepared, then rejoined him in the foyer. “At this hour, I figured we could both use a caffeine infusion.”

“I was going to pilfer coffee at the station, but your java is far superior to the stuff in your break room.” He took the offering she held out.

“That’s a low bar. There are days you could stick a spoon upright in the station sludge.” She picked up the tote bag that held her notes for today’s program. “I’m all set.”

He followed her outside, waited while she locked the door, and stayed close as they walked to his car. For security purposes—or were there other, more personal motives?

Perhaps both, if she’d been reading his signals correctly.

Once she was buckled into the passenger seat, he circled around the hood to the driver’s side.

She waited to speak until he started the engine. “I want to thank you for sending the patrol officers around yesterday. They did several circuits of the house over the course of the day and evening.”

“I know. I checked.” He slid his mug into the cup holder, flipped on his headlights, and pulled away from the curb. “I was going to call you last night with an update on the case, but it was too late by the time I had a free minute.”

“Did you end up talking to Steve?”

“Yes—after he got home from work.”

“Does he have alibis?”

“It appears so.”

The note of caution in his inflection put her on alert. “But you’re not buying them.”

“Let’s say I’m not convinced they’re legit, given his background.”

She listened in growing horror as he filled her in on the man’s history—and when he got to the part about the protection orders, her lungs locked. “Poor Meg. She’ll be devastated if she finds out.”

“She’ll find out.” There was a hardness in his voice she hadn’t heard before. “I’m planning to hang around the station during your program and talk to her as soon as she arrives.”

“You’re going to tell her about Steve’s past?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because if she’s the straight shooter you think she is, she’ll want to know she’s been duped. And she’ll also want to protect a friend—you—and see justice done.”

“But she’s his wife.”

“I know—and she doesn’t have to tell me a thing. After our visit last night, he may have told her not to. But even if she won’t help our case, she deserves to know the character of the man she married. Don’t you agree?”

Eve stared through the front windshield into the darkness, gripping her mug.

Did she?