Her neighbors, however, didn’t have the same life goal of being safe.

“You don’t live here.” Penelope surged past Hillary’s purse and Jan’s boots to extend a hand. “Not that you aren’t welcome.” She gave him a head-to-toe, at the same time he took in her red wool jacket, matching red lip gloss and flip-back brunette hair.

He accepted the handshake. “I’m Cord Pruitt. Jon Pruitt’s brother.”

“Oh. Oh.” Sophie almost laughed as Penelope’s expression changed channels from woman on the hunt to sweetie pie. Suddenly, her eyes were brimming with sympathy. “We were just talking about how much we all loved your brother and missed him. It’s been such a shock-”

Sophie relaxed another notch, now that his identity had been established. For some strange reason, though, he seemed to instantly lose interest in Penelope’s considerable charms-and moved on to Hillary.

Hillary, usually so quiet, seemed to perk up under the stranger’s attention. “Hi. I’m Hillary Smythe. I’m a doctor, on a research sabbatical at George Washington U. I met your brother almost the first week I moved here. We talked quite often. You must be the brother who’s the ultra brain?”

Sophie was amazed. Apparently, a terrific-looking man could coax Hillary out of her normally quiet mode.

“Thanks, both of you,” Cord said to the first two who’d introduced themselves. “I appreciate the chance to meet people who knew Jon. I hope you can find some time to tell me more, sometime over the next few weeks. I have to say, his death was a real shock.”

He had one of those sexy Josh Groban voices, Sophie realized, so it was perfectly natural that she couldn’t think straight. Any female old enough to walk would be mesmerized by that voice. Again, though, she noticed his attention zoomed past Hillary, and suddenly settled with dazzling concentration on Penelope. “You must be Sophie,” he said to Penelope. “So you’re the one who lived across the hall from my brother-”