Kelly Wilkerson deflated, listing sideways, her head lolling on the sofa back, as if his words had rendered her unable to hold it upright any longer. “Maybe look again? I really think I saw her. Avocados.”

Her husband patted her leg. “I’m sorry, honey. I don’t know her at all.” Marshall heard a subtle shade of vindication. It was true.

“Maybe you should look at the pictures of the men again,” Marshall said. “They’re both lawyers. Aren’t you a lawyer, too?”

“I’m a professor,” Adam said.

“But you went to law school. You passed the bar,” Marshall said, inexorable.

“It didn’t suit me. I’m better here, in academia. I like the life of the mind.”

Beside him Kelly continued to sag down, her eyes drifting shut.

“You live more like a lawyer,” Marshall said, looking pointedly around at the vaulted ceilings and marble counters.

“I have some family money,” Adam said. He waved at Marshall’s phone like he was shooing it away. “I told you. I don’t know them.”

Marshall wanted to follow up, but Kelly appeared to be fully unconscious now. She’d faded out so fast it worried him. “Kelly?”

“M’yes,” she slurred, so slack as to appear boneless. “M’up.”

She wasn’t. As they watched, her lips parted, mouth falling open. Marshall was about to get somewhere with this asshole, but he couldn’t keep pushing while this girl slid into a coma and died.

“Kelly? Hey, Kelly?” Nothing. He turned to her husband. “Maybe we should—”

“She’s fine,” Adam cut him off, making Marshall’s eyebrows rise. “I saw her like this yesterday. And the day before that. This is what three p.m. looks like here.”

A little drool had collected in one corner of her mouth. But she was breathing, shallow and steady.

Marshall leaned toward Adam and dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Well, she’s definitely out. If that helps you change your answer.”

“What does that mean?” Adam asked, but a flush came to his cheeks, visible above the beard.

“You tell me,” Marshall said. “No judgment. There are plenty of questions I wouldn’t want to answer in front of my wife.” He was good cop now, inviting Adam into a world where men kept confidences with each other. It smelled like that might work on this guy. “Remember the stakes. The cops are on the wrong scent, and I don’t think your PI has any leads. I do. This could be your shot.” Shitty, considering what the mother had told them about Geoff, but there it was.

He could feel Adam shifting, but he didn’t break. “I told you, I don’t know those men. I’m sorry for your client. She’s in hell. Believe me, I know. But it can’t have anything to do with me.”