The lights were off at Abigail’s. The sun was starting to rise over the mountains, but it was still dark. Laurel rang the bell several times, a sliver of impatience filtering through her calm.

Lights flickered on to illuminate the interior of the home. A minute later the door opened to a sleepy-looking Abigail dressed in a black nightie with matching silk robe. “Laurel? What the hell are you doing here?” She stepped back and pulled Laurel through. “What has happened? Are you all right?” She pushed her messy hair over her shoulder.

“I’m fine.” Laurel looked down at Abigail’s hands, hoping to see rope burn. No burns or bruises were visible. “Was it you?”

Abigail backed up, blinking sleep from her eyes. “Was what me?”

“I’m not playing around. If it was you, we’re done. Not only are we done, but I’m going to spend every available second I have looking through CCTV, talking to neighbors, finding dog walkers and kids who’d snuck out of their homes, to catch you. You will regret this like nothing else in your entire life.” Laurel let her voice rise.

Abigail took a step back. “Threatening me should be your very last resort, sister.” Her eyes cleared and color slipped into her face. “I have no idea why you’re here at this ungodly hour, but whatever you think I did, you’re wrong.”

Laurel looked over to the kitchen, where several bottles of wine stood in the sink. Empty bottles. There was also evidence of a steak dinner with two plates in the overlarge sink. “Did you have a party?”

“No.” Abigail tightened her sash. “I think you should leave.”

Something was off. Laurel raised her voice. “Hello? Who is here? Show yourself.” Her gun was holstered at the back of her waist, and she unzipped her coat in case she needed to reach for it. “Now.”

Movement came and a man wearing only a blanket wrapped around his hips stumbled out of the bedroom area. “What is going on?” he groused.

Laurel reared back. “Officer Zello?”

Frank Zello paused and then looked from one woman to the other. “Ah, crap.” He scratched his neck and moved toward them, one hand keeping the blanket in place over his obviously nude body. “Hi, Agent Snow.”

Laurel stared at him and then looked more closely at her sister. That was whisker burn on Abigail’s chin. “Officer? Were you here all night?”

He yawned and then stretched, shaking his head as if to wake himself up. “Yes. Late dinner and then, ah, all night.” His gaze moved to Abigail and warmed. “A wonderful night.”

Laurel looked at the bottles. “Apparently you drank the wine cellar.”

Abigail chuckled. “We did have a nice, intimate little party, didn’t we, Frank?”