“Yes. In the beginning of her therapy, Dena couldn’t drive, and Adam would bring her to her appointments. He got really annoyed when I told him I couldn’t discuss his wife’s medical issues with him.” Lyle’s mouth tightened. “Of course, I could have if Dena had agreed, but I just didn’t like the guy.”

“Thanks for your help. We’ll let you know if we have any additional questions.” Stella moved toward the door.

Mac trailed behind them. He stopped and pointed to a picture on the wall. “I see you’re a professional bodybuilder.”

Lyle stopped. “Yes. I’m also a personal trainer. I’m fascinated by the way a body can be altered, shaped by diet and exercise.”

Diet, exercise, and steroids, Mac thought.

They left him in the main lobby. Back in the car, Stella pulled out a notebook and scribbled some notes.

She lifted her pen. “What did you think about Lyle Jones?”

“Besides the fact that he hates Adam Miller?” Mac asked. “Not many people can get that bulky and cut without artificial hormones.”

“Do you think he uses steroids?” Stella’s brow wrinkled.

“Probably. It’s basic biology. I’m not saying it’s impossible, but the human body can only get so big. The kind of muscle Lyle was carrying. . .” His acne was another indication he was supplementing with hormones.

Stella closed her notebook. “So what does that have to do with Dena Miller?”

“Probably nothing.” Mac pulled Dena’s photo from the file and stared at it. No smile for the camera. The woman looked like she was about to get a root canal. “But Lyle likely uses illegal drugs, and he seems to know a lot more about her than the massage therapist did.”

“Good point. I’ll run a deeper background check on him.”

“What now?” he asked.

“I have an idea.” She dialed her phone. “Yes, is Laura available? Thank you.” She studied her notes while she waited. “Laura? This is Detective Dane. I have a quick question for you. Did Dena’s husband ever call to check up on her while she was at the spa? He did? Did he call yesterday?” Stella flashed Mac a predatory smile, thanked the woman, and ended the call.

“I need to talk to Dena’s husband.” Stella dropped the phone on the console. “I owe him an update on his wife’s case, and I need to know why he didn’t tell me he already knew his wife had made it to both of her appointments yesterday.”

“Lying is never a good sign,” Mac said. “Should we go see Mr. Miller now?”

“Not yet.” Stella pulled out onto the street. “I have to talk to someone about another case. Do you mind?”

“No.”

Stella turned on the air-conditioner. “An old friend of mine was found dead. She was a former drug addict. She was tortured and killed.”

“I’m sorry.”