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have thought that of me.”
    He shook his head, unsure what to say. Why hadn’t it occurred to him that his delicate wife would no more stand aside and let him take the blame for something she did than fly to the moon?
    “I’m sorry.”
    Laying her fork aside, gaze averted, she added, “You didn’t turn to me when it mattered most. You pushed me and our marriage aside and went it alone. I…I feel as though I can’t trust you anymore. I don’t want you behind bars for something you didn’t do, for trying to protect me, but beyond that I…I don’t know. About us, I mean. About our future. I’m sorry.”
    “You don’t mean that,” he said.
    A single tear rolled down her cheek as she averted her gaze.
    She meant it.

Chapter Three
    Liz stared at the computer screen and tried to figure out how she was supposed to use it to help find a killer. Overhead, she could hear Alex’s footsteps as he moved around the attic looking in boxes. Sinbad must be up there with him, she thought, because every once in a while, she could hear him throw in his two cents via a throaty meow.
    Silly as it might seem to non–cat lovers, Sinbad had been her lifeline while Alex was gone. He was someone to come home to, someone who needed her and never complained if she moped about all day in a robe. He ate pretty much anything she fed him, liked to sit for long periods in her lap—back when she had one—and punctuated her remarks with snappy sounds so it seemed he was really listening.
    She moved from randomly surfing the Internet to checking her e-mail. She had one message and it was from her friend and co-worker, Ron Boxer. He’d sent it early that morning and a business question was followed by a personal one—did she want to meet him downtown for lunch? Hands poised over the keyboard to explain why she couldn’t, she paused.
    Why couldn’t she? Getting away from everything suddenly sounded like a fantastic idea. She typed a positive response and suggested Ron invite his sister, Emily, to join them. Talking to friends would be good therapy.
    An hour later she was still at the computer, finishing the outline for a marketing blitz for the mall. Hiller Properties was a vast and complicated conglomerate, woven together by her uncle and his lawyers. Since her uncle’s death, his properties had been tied up, but she was still the one in charge and would be even more invested and involved once the dust settled.
    However, after the upcoming office Christmas party, which she felt duty-bound to host, she was off on maternity leave for an indefinite time. Lately, she’d felt herself entertaining ideas of bailing out. To counteract these treasonous thoughts, she’d been working harder than ever.
    Of course, there was always the possibility that once the sheriff started digging, someone else would come forward with the news that they’d seen her visiting her uncle late that night. Maybe someone else had seen her car or maybe the maid heard her voice and never mentioned it because what was the point, Alex was guilty? Maybe, despite Alex’s best intentions, she’d still wind up in jail!
    “Find anything?”
    She whirled around in her office chair as Sinbad bounded across the room and landed on the desktop. Papers and pencils went flying as the big cat settled on top of a stack of books and immediately began washing his face with a silky brown paw.
    Alex stood in the doorway. He’d put on gray sweats; she almost expected to hear him say he was on the way to the gym. In the background, she heard the tumbling growl of the drier.

    “You startled me!”
    “Find anything interesting on the computer?”
    “I’m not sure where to look. I can’t find the Murderers Anonymous site.”
    Smiling, he said, “I have a few ideas we’ll talk about later. Meanwhile, you made a nursery out of my old den.”
    It was a three bedroom house and she’d chosen the bedroom across the hall for the nursery because of the light. “Yes.”
    Looking guarded, he