“But you’re not drinking now.”

“I’ve been clean and sober for four and a half years.”

“That’s great. I’m not sure I could do that myself,” I said. “I understand the two of you got into a disagreement last night.”

“My fault. I should have kept my mouth shut. When I called April this morning, I was upset. I’m better now.”

“Are you aware that he called her just before you did?”

“Oh. She didn’t say anything about that.”

“He told her you were drinking again, which is one of the reasons she was so concerned?”

“He tells people at work the same thing. I know because one of his coworkers called me and offered to help. He told her I was flipping out.”

“This doesn’t sound like a wonderful way to live.”

“I’m used to it, I guess,” she said. “Why are you so concerned?”

“I was a friend of Pete Wolinsky’s. He contacted you a year ago, didn’t he?”

She nodded. “He was concerned about my safety. He believed Ned was dangerous and I needed some way to protect myself. Leverage, he called it.”

“What’s wrong with running for your life?”

“Where would I go?”

“There are shelters for women who need help.”

“Ned knows where they are. He has friends in law enforcement. He can get any address he wants.”

“That’s bullshit. He’d feeding you a load of crap.”

“I don’t think so. The one time I left, he killed his own dog. Took him out in the backyard and shot him in the head. He said it broke his heart, but he wanted me to understand how serious he was about our relationship. No one leaves him.”

“Did Pete have an idea about how to get you out of here?”

“He put me in touch with Ned’s second wife.”

The answer was so unexpected, I squinted. “Phyllis?”

“I met her for coffee. He said it would be good for me to talk to a woman who was sure of herself and strong. One who’d gotten away from him.”

“That sounds like Phyllis,” I said. “I haven’t met her, but I talked to her on the phone.”

“She was great. She could tell I was scared to death of Ned and she tried to set me straight. She says everyone’s vulnerable somewhere and she thinks photography is Ned’s Achilles’ heel. She’s an accountant and when they were married she was on him all the time about keeping better records. She told him if he could show a profit from his photography, he could deduct ordinary and necessary expenses. He’d have to hang on to his receipts, but how hard is that? He didn’t like the idea. Most of the time, he’s paid under the table and he doesn’t want to declare the income. He says as long as he keeps his mouth shut, the government won’t find out.”

“A lot of people feel the same way until they’re caught.”

“She said if he’s falsifying his tax returns, I can put in a call to the IRS and let the Feds take care of him.”