When his implication sank in, Meg’s jaw dropped.

He thought Steve would try to ruin Eve’s career just to get his wife to stay home?

That was absurd.

Wasn’t it?

She massaged her temple as she tried to sort through all the information and insinuations that had been zipping around this room during the past few minutes.

“Detective Lange, I appreciate that you’re trying to do your job. But Steve would never be involved in anything illegal. He may still be working through all the issues associated with his loss, but he—”

“What loss?”

“The death of his first wife. You knew about that, didn’t you?”

It was impossible to interpret his expression. Not surprise, exactly—but it was clear he hadn’t known about Steve’s first marriage.

That was odd. This guy struck her as the type who did his homework.

He studied her for a moment. Let out a breath. “His first wife isn’t dead. They divorced two years ago—after she got a protection order on him for abuse.”

Meg heard the words. Understood them. But they were as difficult to make sense of as an algebra equation.

Before she could process this new information, Lange dropped another bombshell.

“His previous girlfriend also took out a protection order on him.”

Steve had been in two abusive relationships.

His wife hadn’t died.

The marriage he’d described as blissful had been the polar opposite.

Why had he lied to her?

And if he’d lied to her about all that . . . could she believe anything he’d told her?

Mind spinning, she lurched to her feet, gripping the edge of the table to steady herself. “I have to . . . to get to work.” Her response echoed in her ears as if it came from a great distance.

The detective rose too, and a business card appeared in her field of vision. “If you want to add to your story—or change anything—you can reach me at this number. Night or day.”

After a tiny hesitation, she took the small rectangle and stumbled toward the door.

The detective beat her to it. He twisted the knob and pulled it open.

Somehow she made it to the ladies room before she lost her breakfast.

Leaning against the wall of the stall, stomach quivering as she hovered over the toilet, Meg tried to digest all she’d learned in the past fifteen minutes.