“I’m serious. But tomorrow his ex-wife is getting married. He’s celebrating by getting shit-faced.”

Trish forgot to clench her toes, and her shoe fell to the floor. “That does not look like a man who is celebrating.”

Joe stood back up. “I know. Looks to me like he’s feeling sorry for himself. But that’s what he said-that he’s celebrating.”

This was not a man who was about a blow a party horn and throw some ticker tape. If he called this celebrating she’d hate to see sulking. “Did you know his wife? Was she a bitch or something?”

Trish would lay down five bucks she was. The ex was probably a busty blonde who had henpecked her mild-mannered husband while weeding the flower bed in her bikini. And clearly this guy was still passionately in love with her, devastated by the divorce. Sitting in a bar plotting the new fiancé’s murder. Or worse, planning to dash into the wedding ceremony in one of those cringe-inspiring moments and yell,Bambi, no one loves you like I do! Don’t marry him!

It was definitely a court case waiting to happen. Public intoxication, disturbing the peace, stalking, assault and battery-one of those was probably in his future. Trish’s whole career revolved around that kind of idiotic behavior.

Joe paused and scratched his light brown goatee. “No, she wasn’t a bitch at all. She was one of those people who’s always smiling, always something nice to say, always dressed like she was on her way to church.”

Well, that didn’t fit Trish’s image of his wife at all. No wonder he’d gotten divorced-he’d been married to the wrong woman.

“He said he has a plan,” Joe said.

Here it was. Poisoning the fiancé, slashing the tires on the limo, kidnapping the bride. Trish leaned closer to Joe. “What is it?” If he was planning something illegal, it was her duty to warn him of the ramifications.

“He said he’s not leaving until he finds a woman to sleep with. Tonight.”

What? Well, that wasn’t worth the buildup. She’d at least been hoping for a midnight serenade of the ex or something. But it was not news for a man to bury his problems between a woman’s thighs. This guy had probably slept with a dozen women in the past two years in his quest to forget or get over his wife. The world revolved around sex, not love, as she had seen over and over again as a prosecutor.