by HELEN HARDT
Roy nodded. He didn’t look thrilled, but he looked a tad happier than he had a moment ago.
I quickly texted Blaine to let him know I wouldn’t make dinner.
Lunch then? he texted back.
I thought it over for a few seconds. I had to go home anyway to change.
Okay. Noon at Luigi’s.
He texted back a thumb’s up, and then I sighed. Luigi’s was Italian. He’d order lasagna Bolognese for me. Again.
I glanced at the time on my phone. It was already ten.
“I need to go,” I said. “I want to change clothes. Plus, that red shirt… It’s not that flattering.”
“Are you kidding? You look amazing? Every curve is accented.”
I laughed. “Yeah. That’s the problem. It wasn’t the most professional outfit in the world to be wearing yesterday. You want to meet for dinner before your session?”
“Sure. Just come here. I’ll order something.”
“Roy, we can actually go out in public.”
“I’m not a real public person, silver. I prefer to stay in, keep my lovely lady to myself.”
His words were like a warm and comforting hug. He wanted me all to himself. I liked that.
Of course, he was a classic introvert as well, so he didn’t particularly enjoy being around crowds of people. Still, it was nice to hear.
“Okay. You want to pick me up at my place?”
“Of course. I’m a gentleman. I’ll be happy to pick you up.”
I lived in a studio apartment—tiny, but a small price to pay for actually having my own place. Now that I was making more money, I should look for something bigger. I would, but not yet. Not until I’d had this position for more than a week.
I kissed Roy goodbye—a long, lingering kiss—and went home.
Feeling kind of shady for not telling him about lunch with Blaine.
48
Roy
Charlie.
I missed her already.
I took a quick shower and returned to my bedroom to hear my phone ringing.
Hmm. I didn’t recognize the area code or number.
“Yeah?” I said into the smartphone.
“Roy?”
“Shit, Riley? Where are you?”
“I’m…I don’t want to say.”
“I can trace this number, you know.”
“By the time you do that, I’ll be gone.”
I couldn’t trace the location anyway. Not without hanging up and making another call. I had a landline, but—
“I didn’t know who else to call,” my sister said.
“You can call any of us anytime.”
“I hardly know Rock, and Reid… Well, he always hated me.”
“That’s not true.” Though Reid did have a huge envy of Riley and all those trips our father took her on. He always felt, as the one who was interested in the business, that he should have been the favorite.
Now that we knew the truth, he was probably damned glad he hadn’t been the favorite.
“Reid doesn’t hate you. We just never knew—”
“Shit. You know now, don’t you?”
“Riley, why didn’t you tell us? We could have helped you. Protected you.”
A pause. Then she cleared her throat. “No one could protect me. No one.”
“He’s gone now.”
Another pause. Then, “I didn’t do it, Roy.”
“God, of course not,” I said. “None of us think that.”
“I sure had one heck of a motive, though. The cops were asking so many questions. I had to take off.”
“This isn’t the first time you’ve taken off,” I said.
“I know. But the other times…”
“What about them? Why have we never been able to find you?”
“Because,” she said, “Dad didn’t want me found.”
“But Dad was always here.”
“Was he? How would you know, Roy?”
She had a point. “But Riley, you’re a grown woman. You could—”
“Stop right there. Please. I’ve said it to myself more often than you could ever say it to me. I don’t know why I let it continue. I’ll never know why.”
My sweet little sister needed help. So much help. Help like I was getting now. “Riley, come home. I want to help you. I’ve been seeing a doctor.”
“Are you all right?”
“Yeah. Fine. Except in the head.”
“No. Please. Tell me he didn’t—”
“No. Dad didn’t touch me. Other than beating the shit out of me. But Reid got it a lot worse, as you know.”
“I often wonder…”
“What?”
“Whether it would have been better to have been pounded the way Reid was. Then maybe I wouldn’t feel so…used.”
I opened my mouth, but no words emerged. What could I say to her? Being violated in the most private way by your own father had to be worse than getting your ass kicked. I wanted to puke just thinking about it.
“What do you need, Sis?” I asked. “What can I do for you?”
“I just needed to tell someone that I’m innocent. I didn’t do it.”
“We know that.”
“But I never said it.”
“You think that ever mattered to us? We never thought you’d harm a hair on his head because—”
I stopped.
We all thought that because she was his favorite. Because he’d doted on her.
Boy, we’d been mistaken about that.
We hadn’t known she had a huge motive to kill our father.
“Please, Roy. You’ve got to believe me.”
The torment in her voice was palpable. I could feel it through the phone connection.
“I believe you,” I said.
“Thanks, Roy. Tell the others, okay?”
“I will. But Ri, you need to come home.”
“I can’t. I just can’t. Not yet.”
“What about Paris? Your contract?”
“I’m a fucking mess. I can’t walk a runway right now.”
“You’re the best, Riley. You can do it.”
“I’m not the best. You should have been the model, Roy. You have more poise than I’ve ever had.”
Huh? Since when had I had even a modicum of poise? Since the fifth of never. “You’re wrong about that.”
“You’re quiet and reserved. You walk into a room and people can’t help but be drawn to you. They can’t help but want to know what makes you tick.”
“Doesn’t mean I’d make a good model.”
“Trust me. My agent wants you.”
She’d mentioned that once before, but I’d laughed it off. She’d never said anything about it again.
“I’m an artist. I draw the model. I’m not the model.”
“I know. That’s what I keep telling Fredricka.”
“Have you talked to Fredricka lately?”
Silence for a whole minute. Seriously, I counted to sixty.
“No. I tossed my cell phone because she kept blowing it up with calls and texts.”
“You’re under contract,” I reminded her.
“I know,” she said, “and I just don’t care, Roy. I just don’t fucking care.”
“Can I reach you again at this number?” I asked.
“No. If I want to talk to you again, I’ll call you.”
“At least tell me where you are. I’ll be able to find the area code anyway.”
“I’m not in the area code. Please. Don’t try to find me. I need to…” She sighed, a whoosh into my ear through the phone. “I don’t know what I need.”
“Help,” I said softly. “You need help.”
“Not ready to face everything yet. Someday. But not now.”
“Riley, please—”
“Goodbye, Roy.”
“Riley, don’t hang up. Don’t!”
But she did.
Damn!
I did a quick search for the area code. Central Ohio. What was in Ohio? O
f course, just because the area code was in Ohio didn’t mean she was in Ohio. She could have purchased a disposable cell phone there.
Or she could be using someone else’s.
Damn. Damn. Damn.
My poor little sister needed help. Needed us.
But what could I do? Reid always said Riley didn’t want to be found. But now…
Now she’d all but told me that she hadn’t disappeared those other times. My father had taken her away.
This was all so fucked up.
My father was so fucked up.
And what was up with Father Jim? Just the thought of him had me doubling over with nausea, and I didn’t have a clue why.
Except that I did.
Tonight, at my session, I was going to find out.
49
Charlie
I was a little late to Luigi’s.
“I ordered for you,” Blaine said, standing and pulling out my chair for me.
“Of course you did,” I countered.
He held up the bottle of chianti that sat on the table. “Wine?”
“No thanks. I have a lot to do this afternoon.” And you know damned well I don’t drink at lunch.
“Come on, Charlie. Just one glass. It’s Saturday.”
“Sure.”
Not that I planned to drink it. I just wanted him to shut up.
“The information you have?” I said.
“Let’s have a nice lunch first. Tell me what’s going on with you.”
“You know what’s going on with me, Blaine. We just talked two days ago.”
“Nothing new?”
Only that I was twice as frustrated with him now.
I shook my head and faked taking a drink of my wine. I didn’t want to play his games today. I half-agreed with Roy that this was just a fake-out, but part of me couldn’t take the chance. So I wouldn’t threaten to leave if he didn’t barf up the information. I’d just be quiet. Sit here. Say nothing. Answer his stupid questions with one or two words.
And wait.
I’d fucking wait.
Luckily, I didn’t have to wait long.
Once our meals were delivered—freaking lasagna Bolognese yet again—he started talking.
“I’m concerned about Lacey,” he said.
“Why?”
“I’m worried. The parties to that confidentiality agreement aren’t nice people.”
“Derek Wolfe is dead.”
“But—”
“Yes, I know. You told me the other is still alive. Lacey figured out the name.”
Blaine went white. “She did?”
I nodded. I wasn’t going to say any more. If I acted like I knew the name, maybe he’d spill something.
“Don’t let the collar fool you. He’s not a good person.”
Collar? As in a submissive’s collar? Geez, get your mind off of sex, Charlie. A collar.
Damn.
A priest’s collar.
A priest.
Father Jim.
James.
Damn.
Had I been talking on the phone with the other party to that agreement? What did they have to keep confidential? And who was the woman with an odd name?
I hoped Dr. Woolcott could help Lacey remember.
Whoever that woman was, we needed her.
“Have you been able to find the woman?” Blaine asked.
Keep cool, Charlie. Let him think you know what he’s talking about.
“Not yet.”
“I’d imagine she’ll be difficult to find. They paid her a mint.”
I nodded again, my mouth full of lasagna.
“Lacey knows this, as an attorney, but I’m going to ask you again, Charlie, to keep my name out of this. I could lose my license.”
Yeah, he could. Especially since Father Jim was still alive. Derek Wolfe couldn’t rise from the grave and sue Blaine for malpractice, but Father Jim sure could, and I’d bet he had plenty of cash stashed away.
“I gave you this information for a reason, Charlie,” he was saying.
I swallowed. “Of course. To help Lacey.”
“Yes, of course. But also because I’m so fond of you.”
“I see.”
“I’d like to—”
I dropped my fork onto my plate and held up my hand to stop him. “Blaine, I’m seeing someone else.”
“Roy Wolfe. I know. I’m concerned. The Wolfes… They aren’t good people.”
“Derek Wolfe wasn’t a good person. Roy Wolfe is a great person.”
“Don’t let all the pomp and diamonds cloud your judgment,” he said. “Apples never fall far from the tree.
I stood and placed my napkin on the table. “Thanks for lunch.”
“Don’t go,” he said. “I only meant that—”
“I know exactly what you meant. You want me to stop seeing Roy. I won’t do it. I love him.”
“You love him? After a few weeks?”
After one week, but I wasn’t going to broadcast the fact.
“I take it that’s all the information you have for me? To tell me once more not to tell anyone where I got the information? To cover your own ass?”
He cleared his throat. “Don’t make a scene, Charlie.”
“I won’t. After all, I’d have to be here to make a scene.” I walked out, a saccharine smile on my face, and hailed a cab.
I’d had more than enough of Blaine Foster for the rest of my life.
To think, I’d slept with that man! Yeah, he was good-looking, but of course he was old enough to be my father.
Eeewww!
My stomach churned. What had I been thinking?
I got into the cab, and my phone was buzzing once more. This time it was Lacey.
“Hello?” I said breathlessly.
“Charlie, it’s me,” she said. “Can you come to the office? I remember the woman’s name.”
“Okay,” Rock announced. “Lace has some news, and we think it’s good. Go ahead.”
“I was planting marigolds in a planter today, and I thought about the marigolds and zinnias my mother used to plant every year, and it dawned on me. The woman’s name. It was Zinnia!”
“That is unusual,” Reid said.
“Exactly. I can’t recall the last name, though, but now, it’s like I can see the print on the document. Her first name is Zinnia.”
“And you have no idea what the document is about?” Reid said.
“No. Like I told you, I only saw the signature page.
“Maybe the therapist can help you see the rest of the name,” I said. “It’s amazing—”
Roy darted me a look.
I cleared my throat. “What they can accomplish with hypnosis. I’ve been reading up.”
I hadn’t been about to tell them Roy had seen Dr. Woolcott, but clearly that was his fear.
“Did you happen to remember the last name of the other party?” Roy asked. “The guy named James?”
Lacey shook her head. “It’s weird. I just started thinking about zinnias, and I remembered. I can’t imagine there will be a time when I’m thinking about anyone’s last name.
“So Dad and this James guy entered into some kind of agreement with a woman named Zinnia.” Rock spoke more to himself than any of us. “I’ll get the PIs on a Zinnia.”
“If Dad paid her off with enough—and I’m sure he probably did—we might never find her. She could be anywhere, maybe even changed her name.” Reid shuffled papers.
“Still, there will be a birth certificate on file somewhere,” Lacey said. “We can begin there if nothing else surfaces. Probably not a lot of Zinnias born in New York.”
“We don’t know for sure she was born in New York,” Reid said.
“True,” Lacey agreed, “but most people tend to stay around the same area their whole life. It’s a start, at least.”
“The PIs will know what to do.” Rock smiled at Lacey. “Good work, baby.”
“I have my appointment Monday afternoon with the hypno
therapist. I might remember more. A last name would be a huge help.”
I nodded. The therapist had worked wonders for Roy. I hoped she could do it for Lacey as well.
Roy spoke then. “I got a call last night. From Riley.”
“Shit!” Reid nearly toppled off his chair. “That’s a first. Where is she?”
“The number she called from was an Ohio area code, but she wouldn’t tell me where she was.”
“Why did she call?”
“She wanted to make sure we knew she was innocent,” Roy said.
“None of us thought—” Reid stopped midsentence.
“Not before,” Rock said, “but after I told you the truth about Dad and Riley, it crossed all of your minds.”
“No.” Reid shook his head vehemently.
“Not really,” Roy agreed.
Reid cleared his throat. “Maybe I just didn’t want to think she’d do it. She sure had a hell of a reason to.”
“None of us know her very well,” Roy said, “but I didn’t think she could do it. Anyway, she didn’t. She swears it.”
“Good enough for me,” Rock said.
“And me,” Reid agreed.
“Still, she had a motive,” Lacey said. “Probably more than any of the rest of us.”
“Dad was a dick,” Reid said. “I can list a hundred people who had a motive.”
“None of whom are the daughter he sexually molested,” Rock said.
“I wonder…” I said to myself.
“What is it, Charlie?” Lacey asked.
“Oh. Sorry. I’m not a family member. I didn’t mean—”
“You’re my assistant. If you have something to add, please do.”
I sighed. “If he molested his daughter, isn’t it possible he might have done the same thing to other girls or women?”
Four pairs of eyes met my gaze. Had that really not occurred to any of them?
“He didn’t molest his sons,” Reid said quietly. “Though he did beat the shit out of us.”
“He liked girls,” Rock said. “Not so hard to believe.”
“But abusers aren’t like that,” Reid said. “It’s not the gender that matters. It’s the violation. The power.”
“Some abusers like men, some like women, and some like both. Makes sense to me.” Lacey cocked her head. “God, did I just say this sick shit makes sense to me?”
“We all know what you meant, Lace.” Rock stood and paced around the conference table. “This Zinnia. If she were Riley’s age…”