A nervous but hopeful murmur of agreement went around the room. The comment, presented so innocuously, gave Hammond a perfect way out of an escalating situation. Darian desperately hoped he would take it and spare himself any further embarrassment.

  Naturally, he didn’t. If anything, he became even haughtier. “I assure you, I can tell whether a manuscript deserves to go in the recycle bin from reading the first few sentences. I know it’s not what most of you will want to hear, considering your sad little productions will probably fall into that category, but take my word for it.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Marc’s voice grew louder and harder. “Give us one good reason why we should.”

  During the tense exchange, Cole hovered near the door, twitching as though he longed to leap forward and join the debate. Finally, he couldn’t restrain himself for another moment. He rushed toward Hammond and joined him at the podium.

  “You really dare to question Prescott Hammond’s judgment? He has years of experience, several bestselling books, and an enduring classic to back him up. All of which is more than you have or ever will, might I add!”

  “No one asked you, pretty boy.” Marc, still on his feet, braced both hands on his desk as if preparing to lunge forward.

  “Hey, Marc. Can we dial this down a bit?” Lanislaw started to rise, too.

  Argo was already halfway across the room. “I’d say that’s an excellent idea,” he said as he stepped in front of Darian.

  Cole blanched, but Hammond didn’t back down. “You don’t talk to my husband like that! Apologize!” he shouted at Marc.

  “Like hell I will! I paid good money for this so-called seminar and so far all I’ve had in return are insults, drunken rants, and watching you two idiots slobber over each other. Darian tried to teach us something useful, but you wouldn’t even let him finish. I think I speak for everybody here when I say this isn’t going to fly for an entire week!”

  “Here, here,” someone called from the audience.

  “Well, at least Hammy and I have each other to slobber over,” Cole shot back after he’d taken a moment to gather his courage. “I can’t help but notice you came here alone. Is that why your stories are so dry? You don’t have any recent experience to draw on. Or possibly any at all.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t seek inspiration by traipsing through the woods naked and sneaking into other guys’ cabins after dark. Come to think of it, you’re not a writer, so you probably don’t, either. Were you collecting information for your husband to use in his work? Or was he just too damn drunk to realize what was going on?” Marc turned to the other writers for approval, but most stared in shocked silence. Darian caught Kaz’s eye, wondering if he had told Marc about the incident in his cabin or if Marc had been doing some spying of his own. Kaz’s frozen expression betrayed nothing.

  Hammond lurched from behind the podium and flung himself in Marc’s general direction, cursing and swinging. Argo quickly intervened, pinning his wrists, while Lanislaw jumped to his feet as well and blocked Marc. To Darian’s relief, Marc seemed content with the verbal blows he’d landed. Though he remained standing, he folded his arms across his chest and smirked while Argo and Darian steered a struggling Hammond into the nearest chair.

  “Everyone remain seated, please,” Argo called to the crowd, though his warning seemed unnecessary. The workshop participants looked on silently, shocked but captivated by the drama playing out in front of them. Cole, on the other hand, picked up where Hammond left off. He charged toward Marc with both fists clenched, but slowed when Lanislaw planted himself in front of the object of his wrath. Darian almost admired the way he shifted gears.

  “I’m getting Aubrey and telling him what you just accused me of, Fresno! You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t kick you out of this workshop on your sorry ass!”

  “Go ahead,” Marc said, much calmer now. “We’ll see who he sides with—a paying guest or a mooching drunk. Also, remember that accusations are warranted if the person is, in fact, guilty. You might want to remind your husband, too.”

  Darian hurried toward Cole. He summoned the calming voice he often used with overly emotional students. “Go and get Aubrey. We’ll look after Prescott.”

  Swallowing hard, Cole glanced back at Hammond and rushed out of the room. Hammond squirmed in his chair as if he wanted to jump up and follow, but Argo’s firm hand pressing on his shoulder made him think better of that plan.

  “Sit tight while we figure this out,” Argo grumbled in Hammond’s ear. “Obviously you’re not feeling well. Darian, maybe you could keep everyone busy so we can get Mr. Hammond some help.”

  “Oh, right. Sure thing.” Struggling not to appear as dazed as he felt, Darian turned back to the rows of aspiring writers. “Sorry for the interruption, gentlemen. I…uh…I hope you’d all like to keep going. We were off to a great start before…uh….”

  “Yeah, before that loudmouth stormed in here and wrecked everything,” Marc noted. Both he and Lanislaw were back in their seats now. Darian knew it was driving Lanislaw crazy not to assist Argo at the front of the room. However, he had to maintain his detached author persona so he wouldn’t blow his cover.

  While the room buzzed with nervous conversation, Raymond spoke up.

  “What if we paired off and shared what we wrote earlier—you know, our letters to ourselves?” he suggested. “We could use that as kind of a warm-up. I’m sure we all want to get back to our writing as quickly as possible.”

  The guy with the handlebar moustache raised his hand. “Let’s share our letters and have the other person answer them. You know, like role-playing.”

  “That sounds wonderful,” Terry said, waving in enthusiasm. “Why don’t we all choose a partner right now?” He winked at Raymond. “Preferably someone you don’t know too well. That way he can give you honest feedback.”

  Darian watched, relieved, as the men grabbed their writing materials, shifted their chairs around, and paired up. Lanislaw scooted his chair closer to Marc Fresno’s. Marc was still grinning with satisfaction over the chaos around him, a chaos he’d helped create. When everyone was occupied, Darian and Argo hoisted Hammond back to his feet and steered him out of the room.

  “Where are you taking me?” Hammond demanded.

  “Somewhere you can lie down,” Argo said. “Sleeping it off is probably the best thing. You’re beyond the stage where a few cups of coffee would help.”

  Aubrey and Cole met them in the hall. Aubrey’s face was a thundercloud, and Cole’s cheeks were bright red.

  “I heard about what happened,” Aubrey said gruffly. He motioned for Argo to follow him. “Let’s get him out of sight. This way.”

  “Thanks, Aubs,” Cole said as they entered Aubrey’s cramped office. Argo and Darian steered Hammond over to the ugly green plaid sofa under the window and deposited him on it. He immediately curled up as if he’d fallen asleep the minute his body hit the cushions. “Please don’t be too hard on him. He didn’t mean to cause trouble. Things are stressful for him right now.”

  Aubrey slowed his steps and glared over his shoulder.

  “Don’t even bother pretending we’re buddies now, or even that we’re on the same side. You promised to keep an eye on him!”

  “I tried! But you know how headstrong Hammy can be!”

  “Can you even imagine how much money I’ve sunk into this ridiculous venture of his? He wanted to make a literary comeback, he told me. We could both profit off his name and that damned book of his, he promised. I went along with it because I fell for his crap about being a famous author who had at least one more bestseller in him. Kaz is right. Before long, guys will start demanding their money back!”

  “They won’t,” Cole insisted. “Sure, we have a few troublemakers in the group, but doesn’t that always happen when you bring strangers together?”

  “Your husband’s remarks were out of line,” Argo said when Aubrey turned and looked to him for confirmation.

  “There, you see?” Aubrey flung both hands up in exasperation. “I’m counting on him to conduct himself at a professional level, but it’s only Day One and the whole retreat’s already going up in flames.”

  “We can probably steer the workshop back on track,” Darian said. “If Hammond sobers up and apologizes, he could still smooth things over. Guaranteed he’s not the only person here who’s struggled with substance abuse. If he comes clean and explains himself, we might be able to turn this unfortunate event into a teaching moment.”

  “I promise to talk to him,” Cole said.

  “That’s the problem,” Aubrey retorted. “You talk to him way too much. Indulge him. Here I thought you’d be a positive influence, but now I wonder. I’ve known Prescott for years. He wasn’t like this until he hooked up with you.”

  “How dare you? You act like I seduced him—corrupted him.”

  “Didn’t you? Listen, Cole, I don’t care what you two get up to. Play your little games. Be as codependent as you like. None of that matters to me. But don’t put my business and my livelihood at risk!”

  “I can’t believe you think his alcoholism is my fault. He’s a grown man, after all.”

  “Of course it’s your fault. Do you know why he drinks the way he does now? No? Well, I’ll do you a favor and tell you. It’s because whenever he looks at you, it isn’t your face he sees. It’s his friend Roger’s.”

  Neither Cole nor Aubrey moved for a moment as the words hung between them like a blast of frigid air. Then Cole gasped and staggered back as if he’d been slapped.

  “Why should he?” he wailed, sounding near tears. “Roger was one of the most caring men in the world. Hammy knows perfectly well he would have wanted the two of us to be happy.”

  “And I want that too, but for entirely different reasons. As far as Roger is concerned, whatever agreement you two came to, and whatever you did afterward, is your own business. We’ve all done things we’re not proud of, including me. I have no interest in judging you.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. And stop mentioning Roger! It’s cruel and unnecessary!”

  Aubrey scoffed. “All I have to say to you is this. Get Hammond back on his game or I’ll make sure you won’t be around to remind him of Roger. The survival of my business is more important to me than the success of your little fly-by-night marriage. I want to make my priorities completely clear.” With a sweeping gesture, he banished them all. “Now, everyone go and leave Hammond with me. I’ll get him sobered up and shake some sense into him. Cole, you go back to your cabin and stay there. You’ve caused enough trouble. Let’s give Darian and Kaz a chance to repair the damage.”

  Outside the office, Cole swiped at his eyes in an attempt to stem the steady flow of tears. To Darian, his grief and shock seemed sincere. “I’m sorry you had to witness that,” he mumbled between sniffles.

  “What did Aubrey mean?” Darian inquired as gently as he could. “Who’s Roger?”

  “Roger was my husband before Hammy. That was how Hammy and I met, in fact. They were friends.”

  “So Roger was also quite a bit older than you?” Argo asked.

  “Yes. Aubrey’s not the first one to make snide remarks about our relationship because of the age difference. But Roger and I genuinely loved each other.” Cole swallowed hard and dragged his wrist across his cheeks one last time. Finally he seemed to regain control of his emotions. “Then he...he passed.”

  “What happened?” Darian prompted.

  “He was killed in a break-in—a home invasion, they called it. Those things happen all the time in Florida. Roger had an office in the house. Being a doctor, he had plenty of prescription drugs in the cabinets. That’s probably what they were looking for. They weren’t expecting him to be there, most likely. When he confronted them, they bashed him over the head and ran away. He died from his injuries.”

  “That’s horrific,” Darian said, shocked. A murder in Florida…was Roger the key to Lanislaw’s presence? Beside him, Argo effortlessly shifted into investigative mode.

  “I take it you weren’t around when his happened?”

  Cole shook his head, too choked up to speak at first. “No,” he croaked out when he found his voice again. “But you know what? I wish I had been. Then the cops might have left me alone instead of making my life a living hell after I found him.”

  “They suspected you of being involved?”

  “You bet they did. You see, I’d been out with friends that night. It was totally innocent. Just dancing, gossiping. Roger was older and didn’t party, but he didn’t mind if I enjoyed myself. Of course, the cops tried to say I was out picking up a new guy, preparing for life without Roger long before he was dead. Somehow, according to them, I either sneaked back home and killed him or hired someone to do it. But who? And how? That was the part they never could prove, so they had to back off after a while.” A smug smile flickered across his face. Then he seemed to realize the impression he made and bowed his head. “I hope they’re happy. I still suffer from nightmares about that night and the way they treated me.”

  But not about the condition he’d found Roger in? Darian wondered about Cole’s word choice. “The police always question the spouse first. I doubt it was anything personal.”

  “Oh, it was personal all right. You should have heard the names they called me. Gold Digger. Gigolo. Black Widower.” Cole looked up again, baring his teeth in anger. “Roger was my husband. Why shouldn’t I be his beneficiary? Those vultures acted like there was something unusual about that arrangement. They kept asking me the same questions over and over again, trying to trick me into blurting something out. I knew better than to engage with them, though. I asked for a lawyer. They were even more convinced of my guilt then.”

  “But they never charged you?” Argo asked.

  “Never.” Again Cole’s bravado faded, and his eyes welled up with tears. “I know if poor Roger could see how they hounded me, he would turn in his grave. Okay, so our relationship wasn’t perfect. Neither was he, but he was mine all the same. I still miss him to this day.”

  “I’m sure you do.” Darian continued to wonder about Lanislaw. Could he be here because of guilt over the way his fellow officers behaved at the time? He recalled their pursuit of his mom when they thought she’d killed a romantic rival at a Christmas party. To that extent, he could sympathize with Cole—assuming he really was innocent and not just stringing them along.

  Argo remained in cop mode. Darian had no doubt he was memorizing every word of the exchange so he could relay it all to Lanislaw. “Any idea who the killer might be? A disgruntled patient? Someone Roger had trouble with before?”

  “My husband treated a lot of patients. His practice specialized in treating people with addictions. Not to mention people who had to get counseling as part of their parole or probation. Violent types. It’s not beyond reason that one of them scoped out his office during an appointment and waited until they could break in and grab some of the goods. And to answer your next questions, yes, I told the cops all this. They only half listened. Why let the facts interfere with the story they’d built up in their minds?”

  “Where does Hammond fit in?”

  Cole sighed as though the mention of Hammond’s name provided immediate comfort. “Hammy was Roger’s friend for years. Just friends, of course—they weren’t exes or anything, though there were plenty of rumors about their connection, too. He came to the funeral and stayed a few days to help me clear out Roger’s things and deal with the insurance papers and so on. He was devastated, too, so we comforted each other. After a month…well, things happened. But like I told Aubrey, I know Roger would approve. He genuinely cared about people and wanted them to be happy. If I didn’t believe that, I would never have accepted Hammy’s proposal.”

  “Nothing wrong with moving on. We understand.”

  “I’m glad to hear it, assuming you’re being honest. As far as what Hammy thinks about the whole mess, I suppose Aubrey’s right. Hammy drinks out of guilt over finding love at Roger’s expense.” Cole wrinkled his nose. “How is that for irony? I went from an addiction counselor to a drunk. Hardly a step up, is it? But I honestly thought I could help Hammy through his struggles. I still think so.”

  An uncomfortable silence followed. Darian started to excuse himself to go back to the workshop when Argo spoke. What he came out with made Darian’s mouth drop open.

  “Okay, Cole, I don’t want to sound insensitive here. But let’s be honest. Roger and Hammy—er, Hammond—haven’t been your only husbands.”

  “How did you know that?” Cole snapped, apparently caught off guard. Angrily he wiped away a fresh gush of tears. “Oh, don’t bother to answer that. People love to dish the dirt at these sorts of events, and Hammy is a famous writer. There’s always one superfan or another who knows too much for his own good and can’t wait to share what he uncovered.”

  “So it’s true?”

  “You’re referring to my first husband, Evan. A wonderful man. I adored him. He was my first love, in fact. But he was an addict, and I’m not talking just alcohol. Strong stuff, the kind that can land a guy in prison for years. That was how I met Roger. He treated Evan for a while, and at one point it seemed like he was really making progress. Then, one night, everything changed. Evan fell off the wagon, and I guess you could say the wagon ran right over him. He took his own life.”

  “And this time Roger was there to pick up the pieces with you,” Argo surmised.

  “Yes. He was so kind, especially when people started blaming me for—” Suddenly Cole stopped talking, and his eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute. I know what this is about. You two want to write a book about my case. You want to implicate me all over again, even though I’ve never been charged with so much as a speeding ticket.”

  “No, no,” Darian hastily assured him. “We’re only trying to figure out what’s happening here. We want to help both you and Hammond.”