The waitress appeared beside their booth and Zee raised his empty beer mug to signal for a refill. “Yeah. What about it?”

“The wife? Her name is Colleen. We went to high school together. After you got the husband out of there that night, I started talking to her, trying to convince her she should leave the guy. She was really rattled, afraid to go home, so I brought her here and we had a few drinks. We kind of connected, you know?”

Zee rolled his eyes. “I think I know where this is going.”

“I wish I’d known then where it was going, I’d have minded my own business and gone on home.”

Zee gave him a cynical smile. “Not really your style, bro. The husband beat the crap out of her that night. We both know that type. He might have killed her if we hadn’t broken it up.”

“Allen Hicks is a piece of shit. Violent, controlling and a bad drunk.”

“I remember that chick. We ran into her right here, a few months after the thing at the motel. She’s good-looking. So what’s she doing with a loser like that?”

“The usual. Met him in college, he romanced her and she fell hard. After they’d been married a few months, he began drinking more. Slapping her around.”

“Why doesn’t she divorce his ass?”

“According to Colleen, the husband controls all the money. She doesn’t have the money to hire a lawyer, and even if she did, Hicks’s father is a big deal in St. Pete. He’s a doctor. Chief of staff at Bayfront. Hell, he’s the commodore at the yacht club.”

“You’re shitting me. That’s a real thing?”

Brice propped his elbow on the table. “His picture was in the St. Pete Times just this week. Dr. Hicks drinks with every judge in town. She wouldn’t get a dime for a divorce settlement.”

“Okay, tell her to get a restraining order against Hicks. I mean, we could swear we saw him beat her that night. I’d do it.”

“You’re not listening,” Brice said. “No judge is going to grant her a restraining order. And even if one did, Hicks would come after her anyway. He dislocated her shoulder last month. On her birthday.”

Their refills arrived. Brice stared moodily down into the glass, his red-rimmed eyes unfocused.

“You’re not the one who’s screwed,” Zee pointed out. “I mean, it’s okay to want to help her out, but in the end, she’s the one who married the asshole, and she’s the one who decided to stay with him. Not your problem, brother.”

“It kinda is,” Brice said, looking sheepish. “I’ve been seeing her. Like a lot.”

“What does Sherri think about that?”

“She knows I’m taking night classes, but I told her I’m meeting with a study group on Thursday nights.”