“We’re out here,” his mother yelled from beyond the sliding glass doors leading to the back yard.

Outside, his dad stood in front of the barbeque, and his mother and Grace were sitting under the shade of an umbrella covering the patio furniture.

Grace bounced up and hugged Erin before moving to him. “Sorry I couldn’t make it last night,” she said with a grunt.

“How was your date?” Erin asked.

“A complete disaster.”

“Oh, no.”

“It started out fine. We had a great dinner, decent conversation. As it was ending he informed me that he’s married.”

“Isn’t that a question you ask before the date?” their dad asked from his perch.

“We covered the subject and, news flash . . . he lied to me. Story of my life.”

Erin draped an arm around her. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

Matt moved to the barbeque beside his father and looked down at the grill. “Don’t get too excited. It’s only chicken. Doctor says my cholesterol is high and your mother put me on a diet.”

“It isn’t like you miss many meals, Dad.”

“Wait until you’re my age and not running around chasing fires. You’ll have a dad belly, too.” Emmitt patted his stomach. “This is your future, hotshot.”

Matt looked over his shoulder and saw Erin laughing at something his sister was saying. “If my future involves a woman who loves me enough to make me diet so she can keep me around for a few more years, surrounded by my family . . . I’ll take the spare tire that goes with it.”

His dad lowered his voice. “I like this one, Matt. She’s good for you.”

“I’m falling pretty fast.”

“The feeling mutual?”

Matt nodded. “But it’s a little complicated.”

“How so?”

“That’s why we’re here. There’s something we need to talk to you guys about. Get some advice.”

“Sounds serious.”

Matt nodded. “It is.”

Twenty minutes later the chicken was off the grill and a summer salad with corn on the cob was dished up.

Halfway through the meal, Matt noticed Erin stop eating. He knew the pending conversation was weighing on her and she wanted it behind them. So instead of waiting for Erin to broach the subject, Matt took a shot at covering the details.

“You’re probably wondering why we asked for an unplanned family gathering,” Matt said.

“I never need an excuse to spend time with my children,” Nora said.

“I know, Mom. But we could use some advice, and more importantly, we want you to be aware of a situation that has come up.”

For the next ten minutes Matt regurgitated the conversation he’d had a few times in the last couple of days. First when learning of Erin’s past. Then when speaking with her attorney as things unfolded, and then again the night before when they’d talked to Colin, Parker, and her family.

One by one, each of his family members stopped eating and sat back in their chairs to take it all in.

On his father’s jaw, a nerve started to shoot against the right corner of his lip. Matt always thought of it as a warning light to his father’s anger level. It would twitch, like a tic that someone can’t control, until it finally blew.

“So this man is responsible for the accident,” Emmitt concluded once Matt finished the whole soap opera story.

“That’s what we believe.”

“When would he have cut the lines? While we were dress shopping?” Grace asked.

“The garage was compact and dark, so . . . ,” Erin said.

“Have you filed a police report yet?” Dad asked.

“We have the accident report. The second Erin identifies Desmond as a possible suspect, he will be privy to her new name and location. So we’re waiting on her attorney or evidence that he has been anywhere in town. There are a couple of things boiling.”

“Like?” Grace asked.

Erin spoke up. “Desmond’s attorney quit. My attorney has filed a second emergency restraining order.”

“Sounds like this man is losing his team,” Emmitt said.

“He has money. He’ll hire a new one.”

Matt watched as his father stood and started to pace. “What’s his motivation? He can always find another woman to hit. Men like him seem to attract the weak.” He looked up. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” Erin said with a brave face. But Matt knew his father’s observation clashed hard.

“He’s delayed the divorce . . . why? Are you asking for a hefty check every month?” His dad kept firing off questions.

“No. I walked away. I don’t want his money.”

“What about him . . . is he asking something from you?”

Erin sat forward shaking her head. “He hasn’t asked for anything. But according to my attorney, she recently found that in the discovery, the stock in Desmond’s business that my father gifted us is in both our names. She thinks Desmond is setting me up to have to give him my shares.”

“What are we talking?” Grace asked.

Matt looked at his sister. “It’s a billion dollar company.”

“There you go!” Emmitt sat back down. “Money is a powerful motivator. Follow the money and you’ll find the criminal.”

“So that’s a good thing?”

Emmitt shook his head. “Not in my experience. Crimes of passion are something only you two would have to worry about. He’d come after you since you’re with Erin. And he’d come after Erin to keep her to himself. When money is the driving force, he’s going to do whatever he needs to make it good for him. Which is why the brakes on the car. He doesn’t care who he hurts to get to you,” Emmitt said, pointing at Erin. “If you own stock in his company and he’s afraid of losing it in the divorce, the only way to keep it is for him to inherit it upon your death . . . or somehow deem you psychologically unfit.”

Matt exchanged glances with Erin. “Munchausen,” he muttered.

“Excuse me?” Nora asked.

Erin shook her head. “Why didn’t I see this before? He’s been building this up for years.”

“Erin’s attorney explained that Desmond has argued Erin has Munchausen syndrome. Which is a disorder . . . or mental illness, that makes people pretend to have an illness or even hurt themselves for the attention someone gets when ill.” Matt grasped Erin’s hand and squeezed. “He will try and prove that you cut the brake lines.”

“I don’t even know where they are,” Erin said.

“This man sounds crazy,” Nora said.

Emmitt patted his wife’s hand. “Crazy, but not stupid. All he has to do is convince one psychiatric doctor that Erin is a threat to herself, she says one thing in a way that can be spun to support the man, and she’s put on a seventy-two-hour hold. Then it’s all about proving you’re not. And the more you yell you’re not, the more they think you are.”

“Or pay a doctor off,” Erin said.

“Damn . . . and I thought I was having a hard week. I’m so sorry, Erin,” Grace offered.