“What does that mean?” Ali asked.

“It means both those jobs are shut down. My workers have been ordered off the two properties. Immediately. That’s just an excuse, though. The real reason is what happened to Morgan. As far as the people in this town are concerned, she’s dead, and I’m the abusive murdering husband who did it.”

He sounded so beaten and discouraged, Ali had no idea what to say. “I’m sorry,” she began, but he plowed on.

“You know, I put up with Morgan’s crap for years because I didn’t have a choice,” Bryan continued. “The world may have changed in a lot of ways, but not when it comes to divorce. If there are kids involved, fathers don’t get custody. Period, not unless the mother happens to be a drug-dealing crackhead, and sometimes not even then. So I put up with Morgan’s stunts, with all her whoring around and game playing, because I wasn’t willing to lose Lindsay and Lacy. I kept my mouth shut and lived with it. But now that she’s dead, all of a sudden people have decided I’m the one who’s at fault-I’m the one who must have killed her. That I, someone who’s never killed anything-who’s never even shot a bird with a BB gun-would murder the mother of my children.”

“I’m sure they’re shocked by what happened to Morgan,” Ali interjected. “We all are. They’re looking for someone to blame.”

“They’re blaming me!” Bryan insisted, his voice trembling with outrage. “People I’ve known all my life are saying awful things about me. They don’t say them to my face, of course. No one has guts enough to do that, but I’m not stupid. I’m getting the message loud and clear.”

“What do you mean?” Ali asked.

“I went to the bank just now, and the teller there treated me like crap. The same thing happened to me at the hardware store with a clerk I’ve done business with for years. It seemed to me that with my wife dead, people would be nice to me and might even offer a little sympathy. What a laugh. Instead, they treat me like a leper. Why? What happened to that bit about innocent until proven guilty? And what about the deputy who’s been following me around all morning? I’d be willing to bet he’s parked at the bottom of your driveway right this minute. What do they think I’m going to do, try to take off somewhere? Take my girls and go live in another country?”

Spent, Bryan subsided into a bleak silence. At that point, the man seemed so far beyond any consolation mere words could offer that Ali wondered if she should even try. But she did anyway. “As I told you, the same thing happened to me when my second husband died.”

Bryan looked at her blankly and shook his head. Bogged down in his own troubles, he clearly didn’t remember their earlier conversation. So she told him again.

“My ex-husband was murdered just before our divorce was due to become final,” she said. “People found it easy to blame me, too. So did the cops.”

“Even though you hadn’t done it?”

Ali nodded. “Even though.”

“And what did you say to those people-to the people who thought you were guilty?”

“They were entitled to their own opinions,” Ali said. “I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that some of them still think I was somehow involved in Paul Grayson’s murder. The point is, what they think of me is none of my business. It doesn’t matter.”

“Do you believe me?” Bryan asked suddenly. “Do you think I did it?”

“I saw Morgan’s profile on the Singleatheart website,” Ali said quietly. “I know she was cheating on you. Or at least I know she was trying to cheat on you.”

“More than trying,” Bryan corrected. “Did.” He didn’t bother asking how Ali knew about Singleatheart. Obviously, he had known about it, too.

“You told me yourself that you thought she had misappropriated the cabinet deposits,” Ali said. “I can see how you’d have reason to be angry.”

“Not angry enough to kill her,” Bryan said.

“No,” Ali agreed, “but in the eyes of the world, the fact that you were angry, even justifiably angry, also makes you a suspect.”

Bryan looked at Ali closely. “What about you? Do you think I did it?” he repeated.

It was an honest question that deserved an honest answer. Ali met Bryan’s questioning gaze without wavering. “No,” she said. “No, I don’t. If I had thought you were guilty of murder, do you think I would have gone ahead and reordered the cabinets?”

“But you’re the only one,” Bryan said. “My other so-called clients sure as hell didn’t reorder.”

“Maybe I have more faith in the justice system than they do,” Ali said. “Maybe I believe in what you called ‘the innocent until proven guilty’ bit.”

“Does that mean you’ll help me?” Bryan asked.

“Wait a minute,” Ali countered. “As I said, I’ve already reordered the cabinets. Your guys are still working here. I haven’t ordered them off the premises. Isn’t that enough?”

“I need more than that,” Bryan said, lowering his voice. “I’m convinced someone is trying to frame me-someone who wants me to go to prison for murdering my wife. Gary, one of the wallboard guys, told me he saw Dave Holman take something out of the back of my truck yesterday afternoon. Gary didn’t know what it was, and neither do I. But whatever it was, I sure as hell didn’t put it there.

“Then, last night, when I was loading a stack of wallboard, I saw something in the bed of my truck-a rust-colored stain that looks like blood. If that’s what it is, I have no idea where it came from, but I’m guessing whatever Dave took away with him had blood on it, too. They’re probably running forensics tests on it right this minute. That may be why I’m not already under arrest-they haven’t finished running whatever tests they need to run. But once they do that, it’s game over. That’s why I’m here talking to you now. There’s been a cop on my tail all morning long, following me everywhere I go. I doubt I have much more time.”

With that, Bryan reached into the pocket of his plaid flannel shirt and withdrew several items-an envelope with Billy Barnes’s name scrawled carelessly across it and what appeared to be two computer thumb drives. He carefully returned the envelope to his pocket, but after placing the two drives on the table, he pushed them in Ali’s direction.

“I downloaded these from our Web-based backup site,” he explained. “One contains all the files that were on Morgan’s desktop computer as of midnight last night. The other contains all the files on my laptop. I’m sure Dave Holman is trying like crazy to get himself a search warrant for all my property. Once he does that, I have to assume both of those computers are going away. He’ll probably be able to freeze the backup files as well. In the meantime, I want you to keep these for me.”

“Why?” Ali said. “Surely you must know that Dave Holman is a friend of mine. I’m not going to go against him on something like this.”

“I still want you to have them,” Bryan insisted. “I’m not asking you to do anything with them. Just hold them for me, for safekeeping, until I decide what’s to be done with them.”

“Bryan,” Ali said, “if you think what’s on either one of those drives will help your case, you’re far better off giving them to your attorney.”

“What attorney?” Bryan asked. “You’re forgetting I just had to terminate two full crews of workers. It took every last penny in my checking account to pay them off. And I’ve maxed out my credit cards making a deposit with the funeral director who’s handling Morgan’s services. I don’t have an attorney for the very good reason that I can’t afford one. Period. I’m not going to have any representation at all until the court gets around to appointing someone, and that won’t be until after I’ve been arrested. From the way things are going, help like that could be too late. I need to know that someone is looking at this mess from my side, Ali. Right now it feels like everyone in the world is working against me-everyone but you.”

As Ali struggled to find a way to reply, she realized that the whining drills inside the house had fallen silent. She saw Bryan’s expression darken. His crew emerged from the house. With lunch boxes in hand, the three men sauntered in the direction of the canopy-covered table. They were followed by the camera crew. This time the cameras weren’t running.