“I’m glad something positive came out of this day.” Unless he was mistaken, a hint of relief softened her features at the news his evening plans didn’t include a hot date.

His spirits took an uptick—for reasons he refused to analyze.

He followed her to the foyer, waiting as she flipped the lock and twisted the handle. “I noticed your security system keypad by the back door. I assume you use it.”

“Yes. Having a sister in law enforcement means I get frequent lectures on home safety. I’d have one anyway, given what I do for a living.”

“Smart.” He continued past her to the small front porch. “I’ll keep you informed about our progress.” He motioned behind her, toward the paint cans. “Good luck with your weekend project.”

“Thanks. As soon as I eat, I’m going to dive in.”

“Don’t work too hard.”

Her mouth bowed. “I was born with a hard-work mindset. What can I say? Thanks again for everything.”

“My pleasure.”

He followed the paved path to the sidewalk in the quiet neighborhood, where the residents were once again going about their normal routines.

People were walking dogs.

Children were riding bikes.

The hum of lawnmowers, a distant train whistle, and the jingle of an ice cream truck mingled in the evening air.

For Eve’s neighbors, life had returned to normal.

But hers wouldn’t be the same again for quite a while.

He circled his car to the driver’s side, glancing back at her house.

A light was on in the living room, peeking around the edges of the closed shades, and a shadow moved past the window as he slid behind the wheel.

Eve might be up late painting tonight, but a propensity for hard work would be only one of the reasons.

She’d also be thinking about what happened today—and wondering if there was more to come.

As he pulled away from the curb, he could relate.

Because that’s exactly what he’d be doing too . . . well into the night.

“Hey, Buzz . . . weren’t you working in that neighborhood today?”

Buzz Lander shifted his attention from the TV above the bar to Suds, who was guzzling beer like there was no tomorrow.

“We both were.” On his other side, Crip swigged his own beer and continued to watch the coverage of the bomb scare on the cul-de-sac a few blocks from their painting job. “You shoulda heard all the sirens.” He grabbed another handful of popcorn and shoved it in his mouth.

Buzz hid his disgust behind the rim of his mug.

Both of these guys were morons who didn’t have a clue about what really mattered. All they cared about was making enough money to keep the fridge full of beer and brats. Neither of them ever gave a thought to the future.