Claire’s grandfather had always said that it was easy to tell who your real friends were when the shit hit the fan. “They’re the ones that have to scrape shit off their face,” he’d say seriously, much to Claire’s mother’s dismay.

“Dad, do you have to?” her mother would say as Claire and her grandfather collapsed in a heap of giggles.

When the shit hit the fan, Andrew Brighton went—no, he ran—the other way.

It had started with convincing Reg Bolton to tell a little white lie in exchange for extra surveillance of the dog park for violations.

“We can arrange that,” Claire had said. “If you do what we ask.”

“So, you want me to come back to the station and pretend that I have another copy of the video in front of each of the ridiculous women who destroyed my laptop earlier today,” he asked.

“Yes,” Claire said through gritted teeth, ignoring how happy he seemed to throw the words ridiculous and women together. “It would be a great help to the case.”

Reg had reluctantly agreed, and he’d returned to the station where they handed him a jump drive.

He’d been shepherded past both rooms with the doors slightly ajar. Then Claire had gone in and said the same thing to both suspects.

“Good news. Mr. Bolton came in and dropped off a backup drive of the recordings,” she’d said, holding up the jump drive that she’d fished out of the back of her desk drawer. “We’ll be able to back up your story after all.”

Emma Bentley’s reaction had been immediate.

She’d launched her body across the table in a frantic, desperate attempt to take it.

It was all the proof Claire needed.

When Andrew Brighton heard what happened, he’d jumped at the opportunity to share his side of the story. He’d signed, sealed, and licked the stamp on his statement before he even had a chance to face Emma. He’d told them every sordid detail of their affair.

“She wanted me to leave Beverly, but I wouldn’t do that to our families,” he said. “Bev didn’t want that either. We both had our…arrangements, but we’d decided to make it work. At the same time, I do care for Emma, a lot. That’s why I helped her.”

“What did you do?”