“A waitress at the bar I always go to. She’s been having issues with her boyfriend, and she calls once in a while if she wants a sympathetic ear.”

“What about the jewelry?” Meg locked onto his gaze.

His brain began cranking at warp speed. The detective could have given her details about his purchases. He had to mention all three items. “I bought two pieces for you. One for your birthday, one for Christmas. The third piece was for a buddy to give his girlfriend. He couldn’t figure out what to get her, so I picked it out for him and he paid me back.”

She plucked at a loop on the terry-cloth fabric. “Why did you lie to me about your first wife?”

“Because I was ashamed.” He heaved a sigh that stopped just shy of being overly theatrical. “I wanted a new start with a good woman, and I didn’t think you’d have anything to do with me if I told you my real history. In hindsight, I can see that was a mistake.”

Several beats passed as she studied him. “They think you’re behind the threats Eve’s been getting.”

“I know. It’s crazy.”

“Your DNA was next to her car in the parking lot.”

“Coincidence.” He had to stick with that story. It was the only innocent explanation—and while implausible, it was possible.

Meg swallowed, and her eyes began to shimmer. “I want to believe you.” The admission came out in a whisper.

Yes!

Once again he leaned over. Stroked her cheek. “I’m telling you the truth, babe.”

She didn’t respond.

He scooted closer to her. “Why don’t I lay here for a while with you? Later, if you feel up to it, I could show you how much I love—”

All at once, she clapped the towel to her mouth, scooted off the opposite side of the bed, and dashed for the bathroom.

Seconds later the sounds of retching came from behind the closed door.

His own stomach heaving, Steve hightailed it out of the room and down the hall, where he could no longer hear his wife upchucking.

In the kitchen, he braced his hands on the edge of the sink and took slow, deep breaths until his nausea passed.

He had to get out of here. Find a distraction.

Like Candy.

But paying the curvaceous waitress a visit while he was on law enforcement’s radar would be reckless. For all he knew, they were watching his every move. A car with dark windows had been on his tail during most of his drive home.

Spending the evening with a sick wife, however—especially one who wasn’t up to providing him with an evening meal . . . or satisfying his other appetites—held no appeal.