Eve finished getting their drinks, helped herself to generous portions from the containers Grace had set on the island, and carried her plate to the table. Grace joined her a moment later, also with a heaping plate.

How someone so tiny could chow down like a sumo wrestler without gaining an ounce was beyond her.

“I wish I could eat like that.” She sent Grace’s plate an envious glance.

“Your sedentary job doesn’t help . . . but you could always exercise more.”

“I hate exercise—spinning and biking being the exceptions. And I do as much of those as I can fit into my schedule. You just have Mom’s fast metabolism.” Eve folded her hands. “You want to say the blessing?”

“It’s your house. I’ll let you do the honors.”

Eve dipped her chin, offered a quick prayer, and began eating.

“Mmm. I haven’t had Chinese for a while. This is delicious.” Grace spoke around a mouthful of food.

“I agree. The one thing that could improve this meal would be your baklava for dessert.”

“Sorry. That’s always a weekend project. It requires a large block of uninterrupted time. I promise I’ll make a batch for Christmas, as usual.”

“That would be—” Eve cocked her head at a faint scratching noise in the vicinity of her back door.

“What’s wrong?” Grace stopped eating.

Pulse leaping, she dropped her volume. “Someone’s fooling around with the lock on my back door.”

Grace slid off her chair, grabbed her oversized purse, and pulled out the compact Beretta she always carried. “Don’t you have a motion sensor on the light by that door?” The question was so soft Eve had to strain to hear it.

“Yes.”

But it wasn’t working. Outside the drawn shades, her deck and yard were dark.

“Get behind me and call 911.” Grace aimed her pistol at the door, arms stretched in front of her.

The knob rattled slightly, and Eve snatched her cell off the table.

She punched in the first number with a shaky finger as the door swung open. Froze as a black-clad figure stepped into view.

“Cate?” Her sister’s name came out in a squeak.

“What are you doing here?” Grace’s stance relaxed a hair. “I thought you were undercover.”

“I am.” Cate closed the door behind her and motioned toward the Beretta. “You can put your weapon away now.”

Grace lowered the gun. “Why didn’t you call to let us know you were coming? I could have shot you.”

“I wasn’t certain I’d be able to pull this off until the last minute.”

“You could have knocked, you know.” Grace stashed her pistol.

“I didn’t want to call any attention to my arrival. And I didn’t know you were here with your trusty Beretta. I didn’t see your car out front.”