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“At no point ever,” Zach said.

Barrera smiled, glanced up. “We’ve already spoken to Mr. Martinez. We know that you and Mr. Beacher began a sexual relationship over the course of the weekend.”

Zach opened his mouth to point out that was hearsay but realized that the underlying idea was to get him to corroborate Chico’s story about Alton giving Zach the panties on the drive home.

Zach shook his head. “Nope. Not a chance. Never.”

Barrera continued to smile. “You expect us to believe Beacher paid youtwelve thousand dollarsjust to accompany him to his golf weekend?”

“Are you saying you believe he’d pay me twelve grand just to sl—”

Schneider broke in. “How long have you known Flint Carey?”

“Flint?” That threw Zach. “For years, I guess. I mean, I didn’tknowhim. His agency is across the mall from ours.”

“Then why did you try to hire him?”

“He and my dad were cordial. Friendly rivals, I guess. My dad thought he was a decent guy and a decent investigator. We’re short-handed, so I hired him to freelance on the Beacher case. He was conducting surveillance Monday night when Alton and I dined at Pinch.”

“That sure was convenient,” Schneider said.

Barrera threw her partner a look of impatience.

“Convenience is the point of hiring additional help.” Zach couldn’t help an edge ofWhat’s your problem, man?in his tone.

“What’s your relationship with Flint outside of work?”

“Schneider,” Barrera murmured.

“We don’t have a relationship outside of work.”

“But you’d—”

“Schneider.”

Was SchneiderFlint’s more-than-friends contact at the sheriff’s office? For some reason Zach had assumed this contact would be administrative personnel. The relationship between law enforcement and professional investigators wasn’t always the most amiable, and Flint seemed like someone who would rub the local constabulary the wrong way.

Which once again underscored how little Zach knew about these things. Because Schneider definitely seemed to have personal feelings where Flint was concerned.

Barrera shuffled her papers, gave Schneider a warning look, and said, “Would you like to tell us about the video you made for Mr. Beacher?”

“The one where you try to lick your nipples,” Schneider put in.

“Thewhat?”

Barrera leaned over and showed Zach the screen of her cell phone. She hit Play, and a man sitting on a bed, a man who lookeda lotlike Zach, began to go through the extremely time-intensive—and noisy—process of pulling on a pair of too-small white lace panties.

“That’s not me,” Zach said over the moans of the man in the cell phone. Forewarned was forearmed, but once he started looking closely, the resemblancewaslargely superficial.

“It sure looks like you,” Barrera and Schneider said in unison.

“He’s probably ten years younger than me. His hair’s dyed. Look at the roots. His feet are different. Bigger. His hands don’t look like mine. I think there’s a tattoo on the underside of his wrist. Look at his shoulders. My shoulders are broader.”

Schneider said, “No, they’re not. Those are your shoulder—ow.” He glared at Barrera.

“That’s not my bed or the walls of any room I’ve ever been in. And if you’ll notice, henevershows his face.”

“Ohhhhhh, Alton,” moaned the writhing man. “I need you so bad. I need you inside me. Deep inside, fucking me so good. So hard. So deep.Please,fuck me.”