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“It will be more believable if he’s actually surprised by her death,” the friend said.

So the two had hatched a plan. Great. Viper wanted to crack their heads together, but what good would it do? Neither of them seemed to have a brain.

Rich nodded in agreement with his friend. “Yes. And it has to be done tomorrow night. I have a business dinner in Willow Fork.” Which meant he’d be out of town with witnesses. “It needs to be done between six thirty and eight. That’s when I’ll be in the restaurant, not on the road.”

Spike nodded. “And where will the missus be? What do you expect her to be doing during this time?”

“She’ll be at home. Watching TV or reading a book. She never goes out.”

Maybe if her husband invited her to these business dinners or took her out once in a while they’d have a better relationship, Viper thought.

Maybe if he’d showed up for dinner at the bar, he’d have a foot in Lyric’s life, instead of being the dick who asked her for something and then didn’t even call to tell her he couldn’t make it.

He got back to what he was supposed to be doing instead of thinking about her.

“Why do you want her dead?” Viper asked, wondering what drove this man to hire someone to kill his wife.

Rich stared at him. “It has to be this way.” He sounded so sure.

Viper believed him but wanted to know how it came to this. “Why don’t you just divorce her?”

“She’s worth more dead than alive,” the friend said. “Divorce is expensive. Why should she get half of everything? She’s not worth it.”

Rich glared at his friend. “She’s your sister.”

“She’s your wife,” the friend shot back. “This helps both of us. You get to keep your new piece of ass, and I get out of debt.”

So the two were in this together.

He felt sorry for the missus with the cheating husband and asshole brother.

Viper waved his hand out to them. “Get their money. Let’s go.”

“We’re not paying until it’s done.”

Viper and Spike shared a look, then turned for the truck.

Two steps in, Rich called out. “How about half up front, the rest when it’s done.”

Spike turned back. “How about you go fuck yourself? You want the job done, you pay up front, we do it, and you never see us again. That’s how this works. And there’s no take-backs. Once you commit, it’s going to be done. So if you’re not sure you can stomach this—”

“I want it done.” Rich ran back to his car and opened the door.

Viper’s adrenaline surged when the dude went to his car. He could be pulling out anything. He slipped his hand to his back and wrapped his fingers around the gun grip.

The friend held up his hand. “It’s just the money.”

Rich took out a paper bag, rushed back, and gave it to Spike, who pulled out the bills still wrapped in the bank bands.

Viper bet the guy had gone to the bank in the last few days and pulled out the cash. Idiot. He really was banking on the fact that his wife’s death would look like an accident and no one would investigate further.

Spike counted the two stacks, then tucked them into his jacket. “Nice doing business with you.” Spike headed back toward the truck.

Rich called out, “Don’t you want the address?”

Spike opened the truck door and grinned at Rich. “Don’t you think I checked you out before this meeting? I know where you work, where you live, whereyour girlfriend lives, how often you’ve stopped by her house to fuck this week, and how your wife spends her days.”

Rich paled, then glanced wide-eyed at his brother-in-law.