“Yeah?” Mendez said. “And I bet they really raise their eyebrows when you take that woman home and bang her.”

“I took Marissa to dinner,” Morgan said, maddeningly in control of himself.

Mendez would have been happy to have Steve Morgan take a swing at him. It would have given him a chance to knock the jerk on his ass, and then drag him off to jail for assaulting an officer.

“We met in Los Olivos to try the restaurant—the same as Mark did,” Morgan said. “I didn’t want to do dinner here in town because people like to jump to conclusions. I don’t need anyone calling Sara and upsetting her for no reason.”

“Or giving her one more reason to dump your sorry ass,” Mendez said. “Is that what Marissa Fordham threatened to do? Tell Sara the two of you were sleeping together? Did she give you the big ultimatum, Steve? Dump the wife or else?”

Morgan actually had the gall to laugh. “Clearly, you never knew Marissa,” he said. “She didn’t want a husband. She never let any relationship get that serious. She was very happy being single.”

Frustrated, Mendez said, “So you met a client for dinner tonight. Who?”

“That’s confidential.”

“Where?”

“In Malibu. At a private home.”

“Convenient. That explains how you can be just getting home at four in the morning. No closing time. Long drive.”

“You know, Detective, I don’t have to answer your questions at all,” he pointed out.

“No,” Mendez said. “Is that the tack you take with Sara too? You don’t need to answer her questions?”

“She stopped asking.”

Heat burned through Mendez like a flash fire. He stepped closer, leaning his hands on the top of the car door on either side of Steve Morgan. “You’re a bastard.”

“Yeah,” Morgan said without humor. “I am.”

Mendez leaned in closer. “Is this where you try to make me feel sorry for you because your mother was a junkie whore and you had it so bad you just can’t help being the way you are?”

He got his wish. Steve Morgan came with a right that connected hard into his mouth, busting his lip from the outside with knuckles and from the inside with his own teeth. He staggered sideways.

“Fuck you, Mendez!” Morgan said, coming away from the car, pulling his arm back for a second shot.

Mendez came up into his boxing stance, blocked the second punch and hit Morgan with two hard jabs in the face. Blood gushed from Morgan’s nose.

He stumbled back into the side of his car and bounced forward again, swinging too hard, too soon. Mendez grabbed the man’s fist, stepped to the side, and twisted his arm up behind his back. Using Morgan’s own momentum, Mendez swung him around and slammed him across the hood of the Trans Am.