“You’re not the pizza delivery,” Lydia said, her voice flat.

“No, but we need to talk to you.”

Molly made a move to step inside but Lydia blocked her way. “I have nothing to say to you or your father. I’m sorry, Molly, I like you but we’re on opposite sides now.” She pushed the door shut, but Hunter wedged his foot inside.

“Please, Lydia. We have nothing against you. We know you’re grieving over Paul. We just don’t want an innocent man to go to prison and you might know something that could help us,” Molly said. “Please.”

Hunter placed a supportive hand on her back and she leaned into him, grateful he stood by her side right now.

“A few minutes,” Lydia said in a begrudging voice.

“Thank you.” Molly followed her inside, Hunter coming behind her.

Lydia gestured to two chairs by sliding glass doors that overlooked a parking lot. Molly and Hunter settled in while she took a seat on the bed.

From the other woman’s puffy eyes, she’d obviously been crying. And from her general disheveled appearance, she hadn’t left this motel room in quite a while. Molly almost felt sorry for the woman. But the fact that she’d been having an affair with a married man, that she was willing to believe the general had killed his best friend and partner, and that she’d deserted Molly’s father and his business in their time of need, made it hard.

“Ms. McCarthy, my name is Daniel Hunter. I’m General Addams’s lawyer. I’d just like to ask you a few questions about the night Paul was killed. We already know about your relationship with the victim, so I’m not going to push you for details you aren’t comfortable discussing.”

“I appreciate that,” Lydia said.

“So how long have you been hiding out here?” Molly asked.

Hunter leaned forward in his seat. “What she means is, how long have you been here? It can’t be good for you to be alone right now.”

Molly nodded and decided then and there to bite her tongue. Although she’d wanted to question Lydia, she knew Hunter would have more finesse in handling her. Right now, Molly was too upset to use any tact.

“Paul and I used to stay here together. I came here to be closer to him. I wasn’t much good to anybody at home.” Lydia pulled a tissue from the box on the bed and blew her nose. “Look, I didn’t do anything. I didn’t see anything. I don’t know what you want from me.”

Hunter cleared his throat. “I want you to tell me what happened the night Paul died.”

“Fine.” She rose from the bed and walked around the small room. “You already said you knew Paul and I were involved. He’d been promising to leave his wife for years and marry me. He swore he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me.”

Molly opened her mouth but Hunter’s hand clamped down on her leg, clearly warning her to shut up. She did.

“And that night?”

“Well, it all started that day. Paul and Frank had an argument over money. I didn’t know exactly what happened, but they fought badly and Paul stormed out. He returned later that night and he was angry. I’d never seen him so furious.” She paused and glanced at Hunter. “He said he’d had a fight with Sonya. That she didn’t understand him and never would. He told me he’d taken an exorbitant amount of money from the business and he’d gambled it away. All of it.”

“Gambling?” Molly asked, surprised.

“Here in Atlantic City,” Hunter said.

Lydia nodded. “Many of his business trips included side visits here. I’d meet him at this motel for the weekend. He gave me money for spa treatments and massages and he’d go to the casino. I never thought much of it and frankly I didn’t care.”

Molly nearly snorted, but Hunter hadn’t removed his hand and she didn’t want to subject herself to a hard squeeze that would definitely hurt. Besides, right now she was getting more details than she’d ever imagined from Lydia McCarthy, and pieces were finally starting to fall into place regarding Paul and the money.

“But that night you realized he’d lost everything,” Hunter said.

“Yes, but I didn’t care. I saw it as a blessing and a sign that we were free. I told Paul he should take the chance he was given and run away with me.”

“He refused?” Hunter guessed.

Lydia gave a short jerk of her head. “Not only that, he said he’d never had any intention of leaving Sonya or his son. He said he had a life that he wasn’t about to give up on. Every word was like a dagger in my heart.” She clasped her hands to her chest.

Molly wanted to scream at Lydia’s theatrics, but she realized for all its absurdity, Lydia’s pain was real. Molly didn’t have to like the choices she’d made, but she had no right to judge her for them.

“What did you do?” Molly asked. What did a woman do when the man she loved suddenly turned his back on her?

What had Hunter done when Molly had turned her back on him? He’d retreated into his own private hell, she realized, looking back at the situation she’d walked in on a few weeks ago. The messy apartment, the heavy drinking and the woman in his bed who he hadn’t mentioned since showing up on her doorstep to help her dad.

Wow. Nothing like having the impact of your own actions thrown back in your face, Molly thought.

“What happened after he threw you out?” Hunter asked.

His voice brought Molly out of her painful epiphany. She hoped she hadn’t missed much and shook her head, clearing her mind of personal thoughts, at least for now.

“I left. I honestly believed he was upset over the money and Frank’s anger, and the fight with his wife. I thought he’d change his mind when he realized Sonya probably wouldn’t take him back, but I was still here for him despite everything. I decided I’d talk to him again in the morning, but when I got to the office, the police were there and Paul was gone.” She blinked, forcing back tears.

“Are you okay?” Hunter asked Lydia.

The other woman nodded. “I’ll be right back.”

Hunter rose as she walked to the bathroom and shut the door behind her.

He turned to Molly. “How about you? Are you all right?”

She nodded, surprised and warmed by his concern, especially in light of the comparisons she’d drawn. She didn’t like what she realized about the pain she’d caused Hunter and she hated thinking what the time since she’d left had been like for him.

Nor did she know what to say, so she remained silent.

Lydia stepped back into the room. “Are we almost finished? This really is painful to relive.”

“Just a few more minutes,” Hunter assured her. “What did you do that night, after you left the office?”

“What any woman who’d just been dumped would do. I went home and cried myself to sleep.”

Hunter stepped closer to Lydia. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sure you already told all this to the police. Sometimes it just helps to hear the story from the person instead of reading the statements.”

Molly admired Hunter’s technique. He’d been sympathetic, gaining Lydia’s trust. And even after hearing she’d been alone that night, he hadn’t asked her if she had an alibi. He probably didn’t want to antagonize her and risk her clamming up on them. He was a brilliant strategist.

Lydia, meanwhile, drew a long, labored breath. “I did tell the cops, but they weren’t nearly half as interested as you are.”

Because they already had their man, Molly thought bitterly. The small-town police wouldn’t even consider the possibility that Lydia had shot her lover when he’d rejected her. But it was a notion Molly couldn’t shake.

“One more thing,” Hunter said. “If you can possibly think beyond the fact that Frank was arrested for Paul’s murder, is there anyone else you can imagine with motive? Anyone that had a gripe or an argument with Paul, either personally or professionally? You two were so close, nobody would know the answer to that better than you.”

He was buttering Lydia up, Molly thought. And boy was he good.

“I have to tell you that as much as it pains me to say so, it is possible that Frank did it. He had motive, he had opportunity and he had late-night access to the building. I’m sorry, Molly, but that’s the truth.”

Molly clenched her jaw tight.

“Just humor me, please,” Hunter jumped in before she could reply. “Is there anyone else who had a grudge against Paul?”

“It won’t do you much good, but here goes. Mayor Rappaport had a business deal go bad a few months before Molly moved to town. The Rappaports had land on the far side of town that they’d owned for generations. Paul caught wind of the fact that some developers were interested in the property. They’d been sniffing around but hadn’t contacted the mayor yet and he was knee deep in a reelection campaign, running against a young opponent who was gaining on him. He wasn’t paying attention to anything except his career, and he needed more money to finance his campaign. So when Paul offered to take the property off his hands, Mayor Rappaport jumped at the chance, just like Paul knew he would.”

“Let me guess. Paul got the land for a steal,” Molly said, barely able to contain her disgust. The more she learned about her father’s best friend, the less she liked him.

Lydia inclined her head. “Right. Then he contacted the developers and sold the land for a huge profit. Much more than the piddly campaign cash Paul paid the mayor for the land.”

“And the mayor was furious,” Hunter said.

“Do you blame him?” Lydia asked.

Molly shot the other woman a confused glance. “And you loved this man?”

Lydia shrugged. “All’s fair in love, war and real estate. Paul’s business dealings had nothing to do with me.”

Just like his marriage had nothing to do with you? Molly silently asked. She knew not to voice her question aloud. Hunter would kill her. Besides, Lydia was being punished plenty for her role in Paul’s dirty dealings and ruining the man’s marriage.

“Do the police know about the mayor’s grudge against Paul?” Hunter asked.

“I do know the subject came up in the early days after Paul’s…murder,” she said, tripping up on the word. “But the police never followed through.”

Hunter immediately grasped Molly’s hand as if to make sure she didn’t start an argument with Lydia now. Little did he know she wouldn’t think of it. As far as she was concerned, they had two alternative suspects. Lydia had no alibi and she’d fought with her lover the very night of the murder and the Mayor had been swindled by the victim.

“We can’t thank you enough for talking to us,” Hunter said.

Lydia nodded. “You’re welcome for whatever good it did.”

Hunter paused by the door. “Can I give you some advice?” he asked, then continued before she could reject his offer. “Leave this motel room and the memories behind and go home to rebuild your life. There’s nothing good that can come of you wallowing here.”

“Goodbye, Lydia,” Molly said softly.

The other woman raised a hand in goodbye.

They stepped back out into the fresh air and heard the lock of the motel-room door behind them. Once in the stairwell, Molly turned to Hunter, unable to contain her excitement. “Do you realize what we found out? We’ve got two more possible suspects!”

Hunter leaned against the stuccoed outdoor walls. “It’s not that simple.”

“I don’t understand.” She fought against the panic about to swamp her. She didn’t want to hear anything negative that would dampen her spirits or threaten what she thought was positive news for her father.

“We’re on the same side, Molly. But you need to be both realistic and objective. We’d like to see alternative suspects. The police refuse to consider them. You see Lydia not having an alibi. I’m afraid the jury will see a woman who made a mistake by having an affair with a married man, but who was swayed by his false promises. I’m afraid they’ll sympathize with her and if we use her as a witness, she’s obviously going to go after your father as the murderer. She’s not going to help our case.”

Molly swallowed hard. “And the mayor? Why isn’t he an alternative suspect?”

“Because as far as we know, he caused no trouble for Paul. He lost his land but won the election. This situation merely compounds Paul’s bad character, but it doesn’t exonerate your father. And frankly I don’t see how we could ever get it admitted in court unless we find evidence the mayor threatened Paul.” Hunter ran a hand through his hair, obviously frustrated. “I’m sorry,” he said, reaching for her.

Molly allowed him to pull her into his arms and hold her tight. “Sometimes I hate you for being so professional.”

His hand slid up her back. “I’m hoping it’s the objective professional who’s going to find the key that’ll free your father. We’ll figure it out,” he promised her.

“I’m going to hold you to that.”