Rebel: Wolfes of Manhattan One

by HELEN HARDT

  The panicked treble voice of my sister.

  “Don’t hurt Daddy, Rock!”

  Then my father’s strong body overpowering my adolescent one.

  Thud to my jaw. Thud to my brow. Thud to my groin.

  Lying in a fetal position in Riley’s room.

  No tears.

  No fucking tears.

  Bastard would not make me cry.

  Days passed in a blur, locked in my room. No brothers. No sister.

  Then…

  Military school.

  The hazing, the beatings, the sodomy I luckily escaped but witnessed perpetrated on weaker students.

  The emotional abuse.

  Then senior year.

  I became the monster.

  All because I’d failed in killing an evil bastard.

  “Because I tried to kill my father.”

  52

  Lacey

  I went numb.

  Icy numb.

  I wanted to pull my hand away from his, but something stopped me.

  The numbness. I couldn’t move.

  Time seemed to be suspended. Had he said those words a second ago or an hour ago? He was rigid next to me on the sofa.

  “Are you going to say something?”

  The words sounded off, as if he were speaking underwater.

  “Baby?”

  Baaaaabbbbbeeeee?

  Then he stood, jolting me out of my dreamscape. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I shouldn’t have told you. I’m out of here.”

  I gasped, my head finally above the imaginary water. “Wait! Don’t leave!”

  “Why the fuck not? You’re going to dump me now, and I don’t blame you.”

  Dump him? I loved him. More than anything, even though shards of fear knifed through me. Part of me was afraid of part of him. How could I say all this? I opened my mouth, but all that came out was, “Dump you?”

  “Yeah. I’m a fucking wreck, Lace. I’m a… I mean, I’m not a… Shit.”

  “Just tell me. Tell me everything, Rock. Please.”

  Beatings. Emotional abuse. A broken bone once. Protecting Roy and Reid. And…Riley. Poor Riley.

  “I only just found out about the ‘princess trips’ my father took her on after I left,” he was saying. “Roy and Reid were terribly jealous, but I know what he did to her on those trips.” He wrung his hands together.

  “Your brothers really don’t know?”

  “They don’t seem to.”

  “And they don’t know why you were sent away?”

  “No. Not the real reason. No one on earth does. Except my mother.”

  My skin was still tight and numb around me.

  My mother.

  I had so many questions—so many that they melded together in my mind into a sea of incoherence. I needed every scintilla of information Rock had, needed to know what he was capable of, whether he’d ever even slightly thought of doing something like…

  I couldn’t even finish the thought in my mind.

  I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Rock said, “Lace, you’ve got to say something. Please.”

  “I don’t know what to say.” True words.

  The gun. His prints were on the murder weapon. And his gun had been stolen.

  But Rock was innocent. He was in Montana.

  Wasn’t he?

  Was I truly beginning to have doubts?

  “…since then. Never.”

  “What?” I said.

  “You’re not hearing me, Lace.”

  “I’m sorry. What?”

  “I was arrested once for getting into a fight at a bar. That’s it. I’ve never tried… Never even wanted to…” He rubbed his forehead. “Fuck.”

  I just stared at him. Big and strong, handsome and magnificent…and Rock Wolfe was reduced to a nervous wreck. I couldn’t bear to see him like this. Finally, I reached toward him and took his hand.

  “We’ll figure this out,” I said.

  Relief visibly swept over him. “Thank God.”

  “This doesn’t mean I don’t have questions. A lot of questions.”

  “I know. I’m just glad you’re talking.”

  “I need to wrap my head around the whole thing. But I love you. I can’t just fall out of love with you.”

  “Thank God,” he said again.

  “You thought I could?”

  “Baby, I didn’t know. This is big. I know how big this is. But I swear to you, I’m not a killer, and I did not off my father.”

  “I can see why you think your mother’s involved in framing me. She thinks you’ll do anything to save me.”

  “I will.”

  “It won’t come to that. Not if we figure out what’s going on first.”

  “How? How the hell are my prints on that gun?”

  “We know it’s not your gun, though. Whoever stole yours and thought they could frame you didn’t stop to consider that guns are easily identifiable by serial number and registration.”

  “So not the brightest bulb.”

  “Yeah. But the bigger question is how did your prints get on the gun that killed your father?”

  He shook his head. “Fuck if I know.”

  “Does anyone you know have the same model gun?” I asked.

  “I have no idea. I go shooting alone most of the time. The only time I’m with others is when I hunt, and we use different firearms for that.”

  “All right. When did you buy the gun in question?”

  “Shit. About six months ago. It’s my newest one.”

  Now we were getting somewhere. “Did you shoot the same model before you bought it?”

  “Yeah, I always—” He grabbed me and pulled me into a hug. “You’re a genius!”

  I pulled away quickly, not quite ready to be close to him yet. I’d be okay, but I needed a little time. “It’s a theory right now. But we’re going to have to figure out exactly where you shot that model before you decided to purchase.”

  He tensed a little, blowing air out of his lungs. “There was a gun show in Billings. I was looking at handguns… And then again at a sportsman’s shop.”

  “So you fired that same model twice? Two different guns?”

  “Yeah. Then I went back and bought the gun at the shop later that week after I got paid.”

  “Simple enough, then,” I said. “Someone got hold of one of those guns after you fired it. That’s the murder weapon.”

  53

  Rock

  “It’s still a theory,” Lacey said. “But it makes more sense than someone planting prints on a weapon. I’m not sure that can even be done.”

  “It makes perfect sense. And if you’re right, someone’s been watching my every move for a while.” Prickles ran over my skin. Who the hell would violate my privacy like that?

  Someone who hated my old man. Damn. Could be anyone.

  “If it’s been six months since you handled them,” she said, “we know your father’s death was being planned at least six months ago and probably for longer. We need to find those guns.”

  “I’m pretty sure one has already been found—the one used to off my father. We need to figure out how it got there and who fired it.”

  She nodded. “We will.”

  “Damn right we will. I’ll put the best in the business on it.”

  “For once, I’m not going to object to you throwing money around,” she said, still not smiling, though.

  I was the world’s biggest jerk. Lacey was scared. Freaked. She’d been cuffed and nearly arrested—would have been if I hadn’t pulled a gun on the dirty fucker. So what do I do? I tell her my deepest darkest secret to add to her fear.

  “I’m sorry, Lace.”

  “For what?”

  “For…everything. All of this. Dragging you into it.”

  “You didn’t drag me into anything.”

  She didn’t sound convinced.

  “I’m sorry anyway.”

  “Look, I’m a big girl, okay? I could have said no to you. I
could have…”

  “Could have what?”

  Nothing. Silence.

  “Could have what, Lacey? Not fallen in love with me? Is that what you’re thinking?”

  Again, silence.

  “Fuck.” I rubbed my temple, my head beginning to ache.

  “What’s done is done,” Lacey said.

  “I wish I could change who I am,” I said. Then, “Fuck that. It’s a lie. I don’t wish I could change who I am. This is me. Everything in my past has made me what I am today.”

  She seemed to soften then, as if my words had finally penetrated the hard shell she’d formed around her heart. She took my hand and entwined her fingers around mine.

  “You’re right,” she said. “You are who you are, and I’ll never ask you to be anyone else. You’re the man I fell in love with. You, Rock.”

  I pulled her to me, and this time she didn’t pull away. We stood together, embracing, our bodies melded together, her warmth seeping into me.

  I’d put myself out there for this woman, told her things no one—save my mother—knew about me. She could have run away. Indeed maybe she should have, and for a few tense moments, I’d feared she would.

  “I was afraid you’d leave me,” I said into her hair.

  “No. I won’t leave you. I love you, Rock.”

  “God, I love you too. I love you so fucking much. More than I’ve ever loved anyone.”

  How long had it been since I’d allowed myself to fully feel something? Too damned long. Riley. My baby sister. My love for her was what had propelled me to protect her. I’d failed her.

  I wouldn’t fail a person I loved again. Ever.

  Lacey pulled away again, but this time she wasn’t rigid. She met my gaze. “Who else knows why you were sent away?”

  “Only my mother, as far as I know.”

  “Okay, then. Damage should be minimal, unless your mother has talked.”

  “Connie Wolfe? Talk? Not a chance. She’d look less than perfect in the world’s eyes if she knew her son had attempted murder at fourteen and her dead husband had molested his only daughter.”

  “Are you sure Riley is the only one he molested?”

  “Yeah. Well, I think so. He never touched me sexually. And Roy and Reid never said anything. The bastard used to kick Reid’s ass on a regular basis. He pretty much said he was the new target after I got shipped off.”

  “And all your siblings have alibis?”

  “As far as I know.”

  “I can see now why you think your mother is behind the deputy trying to arrest me.”

  “I’m still not convinced otherwise,” I said. “But we’re not going to leave any stone unturned. We need to solve this, Lace.”

  “Yeah. Before I get arrested.”

  “You won’t get arrested. Let’s go talk to the doorman right now.”

  “Who?” I demanded. “Who’s been asking questions?”

  The doorman went pale. “A detective, Hank something.”

  “Morgan,” Lacey said.

  “Yeah, that’s him. And another guy.”

  “Who?” I demanded again.

  “I…can’t. He had a…gun. Said he’d kill me.”

  “If you don’t give me the name, I’ll fucking ki—”

  “Rock”—Lacey grabbed my arm—“that isn’t helping.” She turned to the doorman. “Bobby, someone is trying to implicate me in a crime. We need to know who it is.”

  “He didn’t tell me his name.”

  “Of course he didn’t,” I scoffed.

  “Can you describe him at least?”

  “He wore a black overcoat.”

  “Yeah, that’s helpful,” I said.

  “The guy had a gun on me. I wasn’t exactly noticing the details.”

  “It’s okay,” Lacey said to Bobby. “I know you were on duty that night when I got home. Do you remember?”

  “Yeah. I think so.”

  “You were also on duty the next morning, when I left the building. Remember?”

  “Yeah. But I wasn’t on during the night.”

  “I know,” Lacey said. “We’ll talk to the night guy. I rarely see him. What’s his name?”

  “There are two. Blaine and Humphrey. I don’t remember who relieved me that evening or who was there the next morning.”

  “That’s easy enough to find out,” Lacey said. “The main thing is that you remember me coming home and leaving the next morning. Would you be willing to tell the police that?”

  “I…”

  “Sure, he’s willing,” I said, staring Bobby down. “Right?”

  “Y-Yeah. Sure,” Bobby stammered.

  “Bobby,” Lacey said, as gently as she could, “this is really important.”

  “I know, Ms. Ward. I know.”

  “He’ll cooperate,” I said tersely, “won’t you, Bobby?”

  Bobby nodded. Not overly adamantly, but at least he nodded.

  “Is that a yes?” I asked, again tersely.

  “Yeah,” Bobby said. “Yes, I’ll cooperate.”

  “Thank you,” Lacey said. “It means a lot. See you later, Bobby.”

  Lacey and I headed back up to her apartment.

  “You get it all?” I asked.

  She grabbed the phone out of her purse and played back the recording of our conversation with Bobby. “Yeah. Got it all.”

  “Good.”

  “You do know that this most likely isn’t admissible in court,” she said.

  “I know. But it’s good to have it for corroboration anyway.”

  “I can’t disagree,” she said. “Now we just have to talk to whoever was on that night and morning.”

  “We’ll do it, baby.” I pulled her to me and kissed her forehead. “We’ll get us both out of this mess.”

  I closed my eyes, inhaling the tropical scent of her hair…and hoping to God I was right.

  54

  Lacey

  I dragged Rock with me to the soup kitchen for volunteer work on Memorial Day, and when I saw him interact with the veteran heroes, I knew I’d fallen in love with a truly good man. Sure, he’d come off as a douchebag at first, but inside his harsh exterior was a warm and good human being. A good human being who’d been through hell.

  The man I loved.

  The next day, we were both off to the office once more.

  A little over an hour after I sat down, my cellphone buzzed. Rock.

  “You’re going to love me,” he said into my ear.

  “I already do.”

  “Yeah? You’re going to love me even more. Guess what I just found out?”

  “What?”

  “I had a very interesting talk with the owner of your building.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yup. Did you know he installed security cameras a couple months ago?”

  “No, I didn’t. You mean…?”

  “You got it. Everyone who has gone in and out of your building is on tape. We need to get the tape of the night my father was killed, and you’ll be off the hook.”

  I let out a big sigh, letting go of tension I didn’t even realize I’d been holding. “Did you call Hank Morgan? Does he already know?”

  “You only recently became a person of interest. He might not know yet. Let’s call him now.”

  “We can’t both call him.” I jerked as my door flew open.

  Rock grinned as he stood in my doorway. As always, my heart skipped a beat just looking at him. He slipped his phone in his pocket.

  “Shouldn’t you be at your own office?” I asked.

  “I want this put to bed. We have enough on our plates trying to solve this thing. We need to get you off the hook.”

  “Okay. Go for it. You call. You have more sway. After all, I’m not a Wolfe.”

  “You’re not a Wolfe”—he smiled, his green eyes twinkling—“yet.”

  My heart raced and tingles skittered along my skin. Was that a proposal? Hardly. Rock was entering numbers into his phone.

  “Detective, h
i. Rock Wolfe.”

  Pause.

  “I have some good news you might not know about yet. There’s a security video for Lacey’s apartment the night of my father’s murder. It should exonerate her.”

  Pause.

  “What do you mean?”

  Pause.

  My heart was firing like a freaking cannon. Morgan was clearly talking…about the tape. And that couldn’t mean anything good.

  “That’s fucking ridiculous!”

  Forget the cannonballs. My heart was pounding more like a stampede of angry wildebeests. Seconds passed like hours as I waited for Rock to utter something else. Anything else.

  Rock’s face reddened, his eyes no longer twinkling. Anger oozed out of his pores.

  Still he didn’t speak.

  Didn’t speak.

  Didn’t speak.

  Until finally—

  “Someone is playing a dangerous game, Detective. You’d better find out who, because if you don’t, I will.”

  Pause.

  “Don’t even think about threatening me.”

  A chill swept the back of my neck. What was Morgan saying?

  “This conversation is over.” Rock shoved his phone back in his pocket.

  My lips trembled. “I’m afraid to ask,” I said meekly.

  “Fucking detective.”

  “Is he dirty?” I asked.

  “I don’t think so, but someone is sending him on a wild goose chase.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. Or tried to. I was unsuccessful. “The video?” I said.

  He shook his head. “Gone.”

  My whole body turned numb. “G-Gone?”

  “You’re innocent, baby, and so am I. And so are Roy, Reid, and Riley. Even my mother is innocent, at least in this.”

  “Roy, Reid…and what?”

  “Somehow, every single one of us has been implicated in the bastard’s murder. He’s got all of our prints at the scene.”

  My hammering heart fell into my stomach. “But…you’re his kids. Of course your prints would be…”

  Didn’t matter. A detective would know what kind of evidence implicated grown children of a murder victim.

  Somehow, every single one of us has been implicated…