Mendez fell in step beside him. “When I asked you this morning where you were at three A.M., you failed to mention the bed you were supposedly sleeping in was at a hotel.”

“You didn’t ask.”

“It’s really not a good idea for you to blow us off, Mr. Morgan,” Hicks said, striding along on Morgan’s other side. “It gives us the impression you’re being arrogant in a situation that calls for cooperation.”

“I’m not being arrogant. I’m irritated,” Morgan said. “I give a big part of my life to the Thomas Center and the clients there. I don’t appreciate being considered a person of interest because of my generosity.”

“That’s not why we’re looking at you, if that makes you feel any better,” Mendez said. “We’re looking at you because you’re being less than cooperative and because we know you were having an affair with one of the victims.”

“You don’t know—”

“Yes, we do. Peter Crane confirmed it for us. He also told us you were planning to spend last night at the Holiday Inn because your wife threw you out.”

Morgan stopped beside a low-slung black Trans Am. “My marriage is not your business.”

“Could be a good motive, though,” Hicks said. “If Lisa Warwick was putting pressure on you, threatening to tell your wife—”

“And what’s my motive for attacking Karly?”

“Maybe you just plain enjoy it,” Mendez suggested.

He looked through the back passenger window into the car. There was a black Members Only jacket on the backseat, and a couple of baseball caps. A box holding MISSING posters of Karly Vickers. On the floor was a dusty pair of hiking boots. There were no instruments of torture, no obvious souvenirs from victims, nothing that could have given him probable cause to search the car.

“I understand you have a job to do,” Morgan said. “But you’re wasting valuable time on me when maybe you should be looking a little closer to home.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hicks asked.

“Ask Dixon. Let’s just say the interest some of your deputies take in the women from the center is less than altruistic in nature.”

They watched him drive away, both of them at a loss for words.

Finally, Hicks said, “What now?”

“I think if Dixon wanted to tell us something, he would have told us already.”

“Right,” Hicks agreed, and started back toward the hospital. “Let’s ask Jane Thomas.”

Chapter 69

69

“He’s lying!” Farman shouted.

“Frank, sit down and shut up,” Dixon ordered.

They had gone into the interview room next door to where Farman’s son had just declared him a murderer. Despite Dixon’s order, neither of them sat. They were two broad-shouldered men with their arms crossed, each of them laying claim to his section of the room.

Vince watched them on the monitor, knowing this wasn’t going to go well.