“Where were you last night?” Joe asks.

“Home with my wife.”

“What about this afternoon?”

He blows out a breath. “I was on a job site, like I said.”

Joe leans toward him. “Anyone confirm that?”

Mr. Westmore pulls his phone from his pocket and hands it to me. “My client. Bill Harris. Here’s his number.”

Before I can make the call, Joe’s phone rings, and he peeks at the screen. “I need to take this,” he says. “You go ahead and take care of him.” He points his chin at Mr. Westmore.

Joe wanders down the hall. In the meantime, I ring Mr. Harris, who abruptly verifies Mr. Westmore’s story while giving me an earful about the troublesome retaining wall.

When Joe returns, he motions for me to follow him out of earshot of the others.

“Anything?” I ask.

He whispers, “My agents on Mr. Ferris can’t find him. They’re outside his house, but he’s not home, and his vehicle is gone.”

“I’ll call Mrs. Ferris again.” I fish my phone out of my pocket.

Her voice is husky with tears. “I told you, Detective, I have no idea where Molly is—or my husband, for that matter.”

“Tell me about your husband.”

She draws a deep breath. “He and I have been having trouble lately.”

“How lately?”

“The last year or so.”

“Why? What’s been going on?”

“He’s been upset over some medical stuff. He’s changed.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

She sniffs. “He’s not dying or anything.”

“That’s good. How has that changed him?”

“He’s angry, irritable. Drinking too much.” She goes quiet. “He choked me,” she whispers.

“When?”

“Last summer. Just one time. Our son walked in, and he stopped. I told him if he touched me again, I’d kill him. And he hasn’t. But things haven’t been the same after that. I don’t know what to do. Leave, I guess. But the boys worship him.”

“Does your husband have anything against Mrs. Bradley?”

“No. I don’t think so.” But there’s a tremble in her voice. “I don’t know what to think anymore, Detective. I really don’t.”

“Uh huh. You sure you have no idea where he is? We just want to talk to him.” I glance up and meet Joe’s gaze.

“I don’t. I’d tell you if I did. As far as I know, he’s home.”

“Are you still at your parents’ house?”

“Yes. I had planned to come home tomorrow.”

“Are your parents there?”

“No. They left this morning for Florida. It’s just me and the boys.”

“Okay. Be sure to let us know if you hear from your husband.”

She says that she will.

Joe and I huddle as I tell him what I learned from Mrs. Ferris.

“He’s our man,” Joe says. “I’d bet on it.”