“What better way to snag somebody else’s husband?”

I didn’t argue with that. If Alex was stepping out, the other woman was probably in her twenties, since Greer herself was only thirty-two. It was a common enough scenario with men in his age and income brackets, meaning fiftyish and rich, to trade in the used model for something sporty, long-legged and preferably blond. I see these victims of midlife crisis in public places all the time, sitting with some sharp number young enough to be their daughter. Kids, too, a lot of the time—and anybody but a skeptic would take them for grandchildren, given the age gap.

Do these guys actually believe it’s their virility, not their wallets, that puts a sweet young thing on their arm?

They really should get a clue. It’s the Beamer, stupid, and the bank account and the big house. It’s so not the other thing.

And you’re not fooling anybody.

Greer brought me back from my ramblings by ripping out the check, slapping it down on the tabletop and shoving it toward me.

Five thousand dollars.

My eyes must have bulged.

“Greer,” I said, “this is really a lot of money. I could—”

“I want you to have it,” Greer said.

I took the check. Logic demanded that I get on a plane, fly to wherever the medical conference was being held and peek at Alex and the chickie from behind a few potted palms, but I wasn’t free to do that. Detective Crowley had told me not to leave town, and Jolie was arriving the next day for a visit.

I explained.

Greer was undaunted. “Do what you can,” she said. Then she stood to leave. Business completed. No comment on the events of the evening or Jolie’s impending descent upon Cave Creek.

I studied her. “I’m grateful for the chance and for the check, Greer,” I said, “and I truly hope whatever I find out is good news to you. But are you really just going to waltz out of here without responding to any of the things I just told you?”

Greer looked confused for a moment, then horrified. She dropped back into her chair, and her eyes glistened with moisture. “You’re right,” she said miserably. “When did I become so self-absorbed?”

I offered no comment.

Greer untangled her arm from the strap of her purse, propped her elbows on the tabletop and rubbed her temples so hard her forehead squenched together from the sides. “It must have been terrible for you, finding your friend hurt and bleeding like that, especially after—after—”

“Take a breath, Greer. It’s okay.”

“And of course it will be wonderful to see Jolie again.” She stopped, bit her lip. “If she wants to see me, that is.”

“Why wouldn’t she want to see you?”

“You know how she feels about Alex, Mojo.”