“Can he do that?” Matt asked.

“He can try, but a judge has to sign off on it,” Renee explained. “Our clients can fire us without any fuss, but it’s a lot harder for us to fire our clients. Schwarz has to have grounds.”

“Did he tell you what they were?”

“What he quoted boils down to he and his client don’t agree on how to proceed with the divorce.”

“Irreconcilable differences?” Matt asked.

“Basically. I call bullshit. I think Schwarz suspects Desmond is up to something and he’s cutting his ties so he can’t be held accountable.”

Erin’s head started to spin. “How can Schwarz be held accountable?”

“Okay . . . let’s say you were accused of murder and you hired me to defend you. Then you told me, under attorney-client privilege, that you did in fact murder the son of a bitch and stuffed his own balls down his throat . . .”

“Wow, Renee.”

“Sorry. A girl can have her fantasies. Anyway. As your attorney I’m legally obligated to defend your innocence so long as that is your wish. I need to do everything in my power to represent you and have you acquitted of your crimes. But . . . if during a conversation you tell me you were going to cut off Desmond’s balls and feed them to him—”

“You become an accessory to the crime,” Matt finished for her.

“Exactly. So Schwarz motions to be removed from the case at the same time we’re threatening another protection order. You see where I’m headed here?”

“Schwarz knows Desmond isn’t in Greece.” Erin looked at Matt. They had already concluded that. “We still don’t have proof he’s here. We showed his picture to the family last night. No one recognized him.”

“I have more people to share his picture with today,” Matt told Renee. “My father’s a retired sheriff. We know a lot of people in the community.”

“Perfect. I’ll start the process.”

“Thank you.”

Erin thought they were through, but Renee kept going. “And another new development.”

“What?”

“Your father called my office this morning.”

“What?” Shock came in the form of a shout.

“Yup. My assistant spoke with him. He said he knew I was your attorney and that he was flying to Seattle to meet with me.”

Erin glanced at Matt and shook her head. “Why? When?”

“Not sure why. When is in the morning. I don’t have to speak with him if you don’t want me to.”

A swarm of emotions she couldn’t name washed over her. “He must want something. Desmond probably convinced him I’m sick or something. What was his latest . . . munch-something?”

“Munchausen. And maybe. Or your father may have come to his senses. I’ve had many clients’ family members contact me once they adopt a new identity. Remorse, regret . . . lots of reasons. A dying family member. He’s flying in from Chicago instead of sending an e-mail. Which tells me he doesn’t want a paper trail for whatever he has to say. I suggest I take the meeting and report back to you. It can’t hurt.”

“Okay. You’re the expert here.”

“In the meantime, keep your head up. It sounds like you have a pretty good support system there. You didn’t have that the last time. Use it. I might have news by the end of the business day. If not, same time tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Renee.”

When Erin hung up, she realized her focus was on one of the giant oak trees in the middle of the lawn. There was a steady hum in her veins without her heart beating a rapid tune in her chest.

“You okay?” Matt asked.

“My father always sided with Desmond. I’m sure he’s meeting Renee in person to try and threaten her with some kind of legal action or something.”

“Don’t spend your time worrying about Renee. She seems like a smart woman. I particularly liked how she wants to feed your ex his balls.”

Matt always made her laugh.

“I’m pretty fond of that myself,” Erin added.

“But I’m fairly certain they house male and female inmates in separate prisons . . . so let’s hand him his balls figuratively.”

She dropped her head on his shoulder.

“You can’t fucking quit. I will sue you. Have you disbarred.”

“It’s a divorce case, Brandt. One where your soon-to-be ex-wife isn’t asking for half a house, alimony, or even pain and suffering. Which we both know she rightly deserves. My resigning as your counsel will hardly cause you any financial pain.”

Desmond did not see this coming. “Are you accusing me of something?”

“Of course not. I don’t foresee any reason for the court to not grant me leave of this case. So between now and trial I suggest you seek a new attorney. You’re going to need one.”

He ran a hand over his beard. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Your wife’s attorney is moving forward with the protective order. I’m obligated to tell you that. Now that I have, I’m done. My final bill will be sent at the end of the week.”

“Fuck you. Sue me for it.”

“Okay.”

Schwarz hung up and Desmond lost it. His phone went flying across the hotel room. It died a quick death and left him wanting something bigger to punch. The dive he’d checked into after Grace walked away was in the San Fernando Valley. The entire place was a pit. But he didn’t risk staying in Santa Clarita where the sheriff’s department had a close relationship with the Hudson family. That would have been a nice tidbit to know before he approached Grace in the first place.

He realized now that had been a mistake.

But he had this. A couple more days was all he needed.

And new clothes.

Wearing a suit in this town was attracting attention.

He had all the doctors in place back home and an institution ready for his sick wife when they got there.

Only now there was a need for some desperate measures.

Yes . . . sometimes you needed to take matters into your own hands to help the ones you love.

Matt didn’t bother knocking on his parents’ front door. It was never expected and, frankly, frowned upon when he did.

Erin had taken a few extra steps to look her best when they left her house. He knew that only because she put on three different outfits before settling on the very first one she had picked out. They stopped by his place, where he packed a bag with a few changes of clothes and some essentials for an extended stay. And since the Santa Ana winds were forecast over the next few days, he brought a uniform with him as well. He may have managed to switch one of his shifts, but if a wildfire got going, he’d be forced to report. Besides, after speaking with his parents, and especially his father, they’d have to come up with a better game plan than Matt sticking by Erin’s side one hundred percent of the time.

Erin straightened the edges of the summer dress she picked out and ran a hand over her hair as they walked in the door.

“You look like a breath of sunshine,” he told her.

With the batch of brownies she’d cooked up in one hand, and her hand in the other, Matt walked them down the short hall to the open family room and kitchen in the back. “Hello?” he called out.