Hopefully the bad spud wasn’t an omen about the meal she was preparing. Steve wouldn’t be happy about an unpalatable dinner.

So in case the chops were dry or the potatoes were lumpy or the green beans weren’t cooked to his liking, she’d serve his favorite dessert tonight instead of keeping the sundaes until tomorrow.

That should earn her a smile.

And life was so much more pleasant when Steve smiled.

They were still at it.

Eve propped a hand on her hip and peered through the blinds in her spare bedroom. Brent’s Taurus and the car that belonged to the detective who’d joined him remained parked in front of her house, although the Crime Scene Unit van was gone.

She rubbed her fingertips together, still gritty after the elimination prints she’d provided. The house-to-house canvass Brent had said they were going to do must be taking a while.

She let the slat fall back into place.

It was possible one of her neighbors had noticed the person who’d dropped off her ticking package, but she wasn’t holding her breath. Most of the residents had arrived home from work after the police descended.

Wandering toward the kitchen, she detoured around the cans of light gray paint destined for the walls in her living room and hall. One of the many chores on her weekend to-do list.

Maybe she’d get a jump on it tonight. After today’s excitement, it would take hours for her vital signs to—

She jerked to a stop as the driving beat of “I Won’t Back Down” pulsed from her cell in the quiet house.

Lungs jamming, she rolled her eyes. Just what she needed—another adrenaline spike.

This did not bode well for a restful night’s sleep.

In fact, if her nerves didn’t settle down soon, she could end up painting until dawn.

As the ringtone filled the house with music, she jogged toward the kitchen. Thank goodness she’d remembered to stop and retrieve her cell when Brent escorted her back to the house after the all clear.

She snatched the phone off the counter and skimmed the screen.

Grace.

Shoving back a few errant strands of hair, she tapped talk. “Hi. I take it you got my message.”

“Yes. I was in the middle of an autopsy for a farm accident. It wasn’t as grisly as the one I did early in my tenure for a guy who got caught in a combine and lost both—”

“Stop! I do not want to hear the details.” Eve pressed a hand to her stomach, which was already flipping around like a beached fish.

“Fine. I didn’t call to discuss my job anyway. What’s going on? Why didn’t you respond to my texts?”

She checked the screen again.

Oh.

Grace had texted six times in the past hour.

“Sorry. I’ve been a little distracted.”