“In that case, I’ll head back to my office. The conference room is free until ten, so no hurry to vacate.” He reached over to shake Brent’s hand. “Thanks for your work on this case. Anything more we can do to help, give us a shout.”

“I’ll do that.” Brent rose and gripped his fingers.

He remained standing, and after Doug exited he picked up his disposable cup. “I’m going to get a refill. Would you like a warm-up?” He indicated her half-empty mug.

“I’m fine.”

“Give me two minutes.”

As he disappeared out the door, half-closing it behind him, Eve let out a shaky breath.

Her reassurance to Brent seconds ago had been a lie. She wasn’t fine. Not even close.

First a fake bomb on her doorstep, now a bomb of a different kind. Both calculated to intimidate and ruin her career.

And maybe they would.

Maybe forces beyond her control would ultimately torpedo her radio program and silence her.

But she wasn’t going down without a fight.

Eve Reilly had never been a quitter. As far back as high school, the yearbook had named her Most Likely to Beat the Odds.

That hadn’t changed.

Assuming she could convince her audience that today’s caller had a hidden agenda, she’d weather this latest attack and go on to fight another day.

Unless her nemesis had more firepower in his arsenal, ready to deploy if this latest tactic didn’t work.

Not the most optimistic thought—but she had a sinking feeling it was a very real possibility.

Meaning that for the foreseeable future, she’d be looking over her shoulder, trying to anticipate his next move . . . and watching for danger in every shadow.

6

BRENT REFILLED HIS CUP, set the pot back on the warmer, and took a sip of the strong brew as he retraced his steps to the conference room.

It was lucky he’d decided to stop by the studio and see Eve in person rather than provide a case update by phone. Otherwise he wouldn’t have been on hand to witness the latest bomb being dropped.

The providential timing also helped mitigate his guilt over what, until the final minute of her show, had been an unnecessary trip. He didn’t require a face-to-face with Eve to bring her up to speed. A phone call would have sufficed, given how little news he had to offer.

But the simple truth was he’d wanted a face-to-face. Hard as he’d tried to keep the red-haired radio personality from infiltrating his thoughts over the past five days, she’d popped into his mind too often to count.

Which explained why he’d shown up at the station at seven-forty-five even though his meeting a few blocks away wasn’t until eleven.