“Hey, Buzz.” Suds waved at him from the corner of the house. “Grab the electric screwdriver.”

“Okay.” He turned back to the truck and rummaged for the tool.

Four more hours until he could chill out in his apartment.

It felt like a lifetime.

But he’d survive.

Because he had more to look forward to than a cold beer and another round of Candy Crush.

He had plans to make.

“Yes!” Brent pumped a fist in the air.

“Must be good news.”

As the male voice spoke behind him, he swiveled around in his desk chair at headquarters.

Colin Flynn leaned a shoulder against the door frame. “Either you just secured a hot date or there’s been a positive development with one of your cases.”

At the mention of a hot date, an image of Eve flashed through his mind.

If only.

But the detective colleague he shared an office with had nailed his reaction with his second guess.

“My euphoria is case related.”

“Congrats from a work standpoint. My condolences on the social front.” Colin strolled in and dropped into the chair at his desk. “What case?”

“Eve Reilly.”

“Yeah?” He leaned forward, interest sparking in his eyes. “I was beginning to think that was destined for the deep freeze.”

“Me too. But CSU came through for me at the car scene.”

“What did they find?”

“A small clump of dark hair containing a few strands with roots.”

“Aha. You got a DNA match in CODIS.”

“No.” The FBI database hadn’t yielded anything. “But I got a hit in the DOD DNA Registry.”

“Department of Defense.” Colin leaned back and linked his fingers over his stomach. “So your guy is military—or ex-military.”

“Ex.”

“Any previous lower-level run-ins with law enforcement?”

“That’s what I intend to find out.” A major crime would have yielded a match in CODIS—but that didn’t mean their man was 100 percent clean.

“If you want any help tracking down leads, let me know.” He pulled out his cell and scanned the screen. “I have to take this.”

As Colin angled away, Brent hunkered down and refocused on his computer. With a name and a few other identifying details in hand, it should be easy to gather additional data.

Thirty minutes later, his pulse picked up and he leaned closer to the screen he’d pulled up a minute ago.

How about that?

His suspect wasn’t merely a disenfranchised listener. He had a link to Eve.

Meaning he must have a personal ax to grind.

And now that they had a name, it was possible Eve could shed some light on the motivation.

He eased back in his chair.

A phone call would suffice for professional purposes—but he wanted to see her, even if he still had cold feet after everything he’d shared on Saturday night.