“You were my father’s friend.” The words scratched Lance’s throat on the way out. “And you lied to the police about the night he went missing. What else did you lie about?”

Did Brian kill Mary? What about Crystal? Lance couldn’t even process the thought that Brian had tried to kill Jenny.

Brian glared back, and his chest puffed out. “You need to leave.”

“It must have been hard to squeeze money for a prostitute into the family budget.” Rage crawled around inside Lance’s chest, making itself comfortable, as if it was in for the long haul.

“You paid Mary Fox for sex on a regular basis.” Morgan stepped closer, her shoulder edging in front of Lance’s, clearly concerned he was going to throttle Brian. “The owner of the Roadside Motel identified you as one of Mary’s clients. You used the alias Mr. Joshua, and you were with her at the motel the night Vic went missing. I think we can reasonably hypothesize that was the same night Mary was killed.”

“Get out.” Brian’s face reddened.

Lance pressed closer, edging Morgan aside. He wanted to grab Brian by the neck and shake the information out of him. “What else do you know about the night my father disappeared?”

“Nothing.” Brian’s eyes shuttered.

“What happened that night, Brian?” Morgan’s hands wrapped around Lance’s bicep.

But her slim fingers had no hope of holding him back. Lance leaned in, until he was right in Brian’s face. “Where is my father?”

“I don’t know,” Brian yelled.

Lance shook off Morgan’s hand and grabbed Brian by the front of his polo shirt. “Did you kill Mary?”

“God. No.” Brian tried to lean away, but the wall behind him limited his movement. “And that’s the truth. I didn’t see your father that night. I dropped Mary back at PJ’s afterward.” Brian didn’t try to look way. “That’s the last time I saw her. I didn’t know she was dead until you told me.”

Was that the truth? Brian had already proven himself to be a gifted liar.

Lance eased back, putting some space between them. Brian’s sliminess felt contagious. He was supposed to have been Vic’s buddy, someone his dad confided in about his troubled marriage, his wife’s fragility, his son’s vulnerability. Brian had betrayed one of his best friends.

“Twenty-three years ago, someone murdered Mary Fox.” Lance barely recognized his own voice. “But since her bones were found, two possible witnesses have died, and someone tried to kill my mother. Where were you last night?”

“I had a meeting and then dinner with a client,” Brian said. “I was tied up from five o’clock until ten.”

“Would this client back you up?”

“Yes.” Brian nodded. “It was a business dinner. There’s no reason why he wouldn’t. We were at a restaurant. I have a credit card receipt.”

He took out his wallet and pulled out a receipt. Lance glanced at it. The time stamp was nine thirty-six. The date was correct, and the dinner was expensive enough to have lasted several hours. If Brian’s alibi was legitimate, it would clear him of P. J.’s death and the attempt on Jenny’s life.

“I’d be very, very careful,” Lance said. “Someone is making sure anyone who had information about Mary’s death can’t talk.”

Brian looked over Lance’s shoulder. “Shit.”

Lance spun around. Natalie was standing in the doorway. Had she been there long enough to hear Brian confess to adultery?

“You bastard!” she shouted.

Seems like she had. While Brian’s face was dead white, Natalie’s cheeks had flushed an angry red.

“Nat . . .” Brian’s throat worked as he swallowed hard.

“I always knew you cheated on me, but a hooker?” Natalie took two steps, moving through the doorway into the kitchen. “Who knows what kind of diseases you’re carrying.”

“It was just her,” Brian stammered. “There haven’t been—”

“Oh, shut up. Do you think I’m stupid? You’ve always been a cheater. But you couldn’t be discreet about it?” she yelled. “You’re even lazy about cheating. How many whores have there been, Brian?”

“No more. I swear. Mary wasn’t really a hooker. She was . . .” Brian seemed unable to fill in that blank.

“A fucking hooker!” Natalie screamed. “You paid her for sex. This is simple stuff.”

“You never liked sex.” Brian’s eyes went mean. “Men have needs.”

“It wasn’t sex I didn’t like. It was sex with you.” Natalie gritted her teeth. Her furious gaze darted to Lance and Morgan. Humiliation hovered under her rage and helplessness for a few seconds. Then her attention snapped back to her husband with the force of a mousetrap. “Brian can’t get it up unless there’s some violence involved. He’s into inflicting pain. I’m not into receiving it. Did Mary let you yank her around by the hair? Did she like to be tied up and have you hurt and humiliate her? You realize that none of that dominant shit really compensates for a small penis, right?”

Brian looked like he was going to have a stroke at any second. His mouth opened and closed, gaping as if he couldn’t suck in any oxygen.

“You’re pathetic,” she spat.

Lance eased sideways, distancing himself from Brian and the stream of wrath his wife was pouring on him.

“Natalie.” Morgan’s voice was soft and soothing. “Where were you the night Lance’s father disappeared?”

Lance froze.

Did Natalie kill Mary?

“I was here. Someone had to be home with the children.” Natalie’s focus never left Brian’s face.

No one would be able to give her an alibi.

“Did you kill Mary?” Morgan asked in a gentle voice, her tone suggesting an admission would be totally understandable under the circumstances.

Natalie blinked. Her attention flickered to Morgan. “Why would I kill her? It wasn’t her fault that my husband is disgusting.” A tear rolled down her cheek. She didn’t seem to notice. Her attention returned to Brian, fresh fury flickering in her eyes. “I didn’t even know it was Mary until just now.”

Brian hadn’t just betrayed Vic. He’d betrayed his wife too. Everything about him was a lie.

Who was he sleeping with now?

“Natalie, is there anyone who can verify that you were here that night?” Morgan asked.

“No. The kids were all in bed.” More angry tears spilled from Natalie’s eyes. “But you can believe me when I say that the only person I have ever wanted to kill is Brian.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a huge handgun.

Lance took three steps sideways, stepping in front of Morgan, one arm sweeping out to tuck her behind him, the other drawing his sidearm. But the only reason he’d shoot Natalie was if she turned the gun on him and Morgan. Brian was on his own. Life lesson: If you lie down with dogs, you might not get up again.

“Where did you get that?” Brian screeched.

“I bought it, dumbass,” she shot back. “It’s not hard. You go out late at night. I’m here by myself. You don’t like dogs. I wanted it for protection.”

“Put it down! You’re not going to shoot me.” Brian took a step forward, his face smug.