Rake: Wolfes of Manhattan Four

by HELEN HARDT

  “For the life of me,” Moira said, “I have no idea why you’re asking this question. She’s telling you that there are others besides his children who had a motive for killing Derek Wolfe.”

  “All she’s telling me is that she had a motive,” Morgan said icily.

  “We’ve already established that Ms. Jones was not in New York at the time of the murder,” Zach said, his tone adamant.

  “Zach is right,” Moira agreed. “I think this meeting is over.”

  “No,” I said softly.

  “Zee,” Moira said. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “I do have to. I have to for all those women who didn’t survive. And I also have to for myself. To put this to bed in my own mind. I’ve carried it around for far too long.”

  Moira smiled. She reminded me of my grandmother, who died when I was ten. Very nurturing but also a spitfire who didn’t let anyone push her around. “As you wish.”

  I cleared my throat. “I didn’t come forward earlier because I was afraid, Detective. I was a mess. Men had kidnapped me, cut me, and then hunted me with the intention of killing me. That’s not something you get over quickly.”

  “I never meant to suggest that it was,” Morgan said.

  “Well, you kind of did. What woman in her right mind would go straight to the person who violated her and demand money to keep her mouth shut?”

  “You could have gone to the police.”

  “I should have. But I was kind of catatonic for a while. I have no idea how I got to the ER. I have no idea how I got home. I was a mess, and my mother wanted me to get back into modeling right away.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “I hated modeling. I wanted to go to college.”

  “Why didn’t you go? You said you had a scholarship.”

  “Because I couldn’t.”

  “Why?”

  Rage swirled through me like a black storm. “It’s all so easy to sit in judgment of me, isn’t it? But you’ve never been through what I’ve been through. I was a mess. I needed an escape.”

  “So you turned to drugs.”

  “I did. I’m not proud of it.”

  “She got help,” Moira said. “She took responsibility.”

  “And then you went to Derek Wolfe.”

  I gulped. “Yes. To pay off my rehab, and to get some money to begin a new life somewhere far away.”

  “Las Vegas.”

  “Yes.”

  “You dance in a topless show.”

  “I do.”

  “Why didn’t you just prostitute yourself? It’s legal there, you know.”

  Moira and Zach both stood. Gone was the nurturing Moira. Now she was a lioness protecting a cub.

  I was never so thankful to be a cub.

  “This meeting is over.” She held her hand out to me. “Come on, Zee.”

  “I agree,” Zach said. “The Wolfes will hear about this.”

  “The Wolfes don’t scare me,” Morgan shot back.

  “Maybe they should,” Zach said.

  “Are you kidding me? Half my colleagues were on—” He stopped abruptly.

  Zach’s eyes darkened. “Go on,” he said through clenched teeth.

  “Nothing,” Morgan said. “Ms. Bancroft, please have your client take a seat.”

  “No way,” Moira said.

  “Yes,” Morgan said, “because if you don’t, I’ll have her arrested and dragged down to the station.”

  I gulped audibly as my heart pounded.

  Moira whipped her hands to her hips. “On what grounds?”

  “Failure to cooperate in an ongoing criminal investigation.”

  “Try it,” Moira said. “I’ll tie you up in court for years.”

  “You’ll regret that.”

  “I’ll take my chances. Let’s go, Zee.”

  I walked, sandwiched between Moira and Zach, out of the conference room.

  Two lawyers protecting me.

  But they wouldn’t always be there.

  Had I done the right thing? Telling my story to the detective?

  One thing I’d learned in my relatively short life—the what-if game served no purpose. What if I’d stayed at a different hotel in Queens? What if I hadn’t gone to New York? What if I’d driven straight to Smith?

  I’d be a doctor now.

  “I’m so sorry,” Moira was saying.

  “I am too,” Zach agreed. “Mr. Wolfe will take care of this. Plus, you’ve given Morgan enough to call Father Jim in for questioning about the murder.”

  Had I? Would justice truly be served?

  I’d given up on justice long ago.

  “I’ll take you to Mr. Wolfe,” Moira said, smiling.

  Mr. Wolfe. Reid.

  Yes, Reid would protect me. I felt certain.

  But who would protect him?

  38

  Reid

  Back at the office, I called in a team to thoroughly search Rock’s and my offices for surveillance equipment of any kind. I’d had my own searched after we all became implicated, but it didn’t hurt to be sure.

  Besides, I was rapidly learning to trust no one but my family and Zee. I looked around. Terrence. Any of the others. A fucking mail clerk, for God’s sake. My father could have gotten to any of them. Already Terrence was a suspect, given the issue with his calendar.

  This was a nightmare that was getting more horrific each day.

  I was lost in thought when my phone buzzed. Good. It was the PI who’d searched St. Andrew’s, a colleague of Leif’s.

  “Give me some good news, Buck,” I said into the phone.

  “Got lots of it,” he said, “but also some bad.”

  “Fuck.”

  “I don’t want to talk on the phone. I’m heading to your office.”

  Trust no one. The words emerged in my head seemingly of their own accord. “I’d rather go somewhere public. The café a block over. It has outdoor seating. I was just there with Rock and Lacey to discuss some stuff.”

  “Are they still there?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Let’s go somewhere else,” Buck said. “I need to talk to you alone first.”

  Icy fingers gripped the back of my neck. This couldn’t be good. “All right. Text me with a location. I need to check on something first.”

  “Good enough.”

  Buck was a good man. He’d never worked for my father and he came highly recommended by Leif, who I trusted.

  First, though, I had to check on Zee.

  I walked swiftly to the conference room where she was meeting with Hank Morgan but wrinkled my forehead. Morgan sat alone in the conference room.

  I entered. “Where’s Zee?”

  “She left.”

  “That’s obvious. What happened, Morgan?”

  “I don’t owe you any explanation.”

  Hank Morgan was an enigma. At first, he’d seemed highly cooperative. He wanted to get to the truth, and he seemed to believe that none of us, especially Rock and Lacey, had been behind the murder of our father.

  Each day, though, he seemed more distant. More ready to pin this on someone just to get it out of his hair.

  Was he crooked?

  I wasn’t sure.

  “Fine,” I said. “If you’re done here, get off our property.”

  He slammed his file folder shut. “I’m leaving, but I’m far from done here.” He picked up his files, shoved them into his briefcase, and then brushed hotly past me.

  Yeah. Not good.

  I walked out the door only to run into Zach Hayes. “Hey, Zach. What the hell happened in there?”

  “It was ugly,” Zach replied. “He asked Zee why she didn’t get into prostitution in Vegas.”

  Anger erupted through me like hot lava from a volcano. “That mother—”

  “He’s a dick,” Zach interrupted, “but something else bothers me even more.”

  “What’s that?”

  “He said something out of anger. Or he started to.”
<
br />   “What?”

  “He said the Wolfes didn’t scare him, and then he said, and I quote, ‘half my colleagues were on…’ and then he just stopped.”

  “My father’s payroll?”

  “That was my first thought.”

  “What an idiot. Why would he even let something like that come out of his mouth?”

  “I don’t know,” Zach said. “He knows better. He’s not brilliant, but he’s not stupid either.”

  “I was just thinking about how he’s been less cooperative each day,” I said.

  “I’ve noticed that as well. Would he say something like that to throw us off track?”

  “Who the fuck knows what he’d do?” I scoffed. “Is Zee all right?”

  “Moira’s taking care of her. They’re probably in her office. Zee was a little shaken. Moira was awesome. She became a beast in there.”

  “Moira’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing,” I agreed. “I figured Zee would be comfortable with her. I’ll go check on her, but I only have a few minutes. I’m headed out to a meeting. Thanks for everything, Zach.”

  “No problem. That’s what you pay me for.” Zach saluted and walked quickly toward his own office.

  I headed to Moira’s office. The door was closed. I knocked softly.

  “Yes?”

  “It’s Reid.”

  “Come in, Mr. Wolfe.”

  I opened the door. Moira didn’t sit behind her desk. Instead, she was seated on her burgundy velvet couch next to Zee.

  Zee smiled listlessly when she saw me.

  “Hey,” I said. “You okay?”

  She nodded, but I wasn’t convinced.

  “Zach tells me you were kind of a pit bull in there, Moira,” I said. “Thank you.”

  “Not a problem. That detective was way out of line.”

  I met Zee’s gaze. “I have to go to a meeting. Do you want me to take you up to the apartment first?”

  She shook her head. “I’ll be all right.”

  “She can stay with me as long as she wants to. I have some paperwork to do.”

  “She doesn’t need a babysitter, Moira.”

  Zee laughed softly. “No, I don’t, but Moira seems to know how to calm me down.”

  “You remind me of my daughter,” Moira said. “I think the two of you would like each other.”

  I looked hurriedly at my watch. “You sure?”

  Zee nodded. “I’ll stay here for a little while, since Moira doesn’t mind, and then I’ll ask Rock or Lacey to take me back to your place. Will that work?”

  “As long as you’re comfortable. I don’t know how long I’ll be in the meeting, but if you need anything—I mean anything—you call or text me. Got it?”

  Zee nodded again, her smile faltering a bit.

  I couldn’t help myself. I reached forward and brushed my fingers over her soft cheek. “I’ll be back soon.”

  39

  Zee

  My cheek burned from Reid’s touch.

  Moira, still sitting next to me, must have noticed. She’d have had to be blind not to.

  “He’s a good man,” she said.

  I nodded. “I really don’t know him very well.”

  “By that blush on your cheek, I’d say you know him well enough.” She smiled.

  “He… I like him a lot. But he looks so much like…”

  “His father. Yes, he does. But Reid isn’t his father, Zee. He never was.”

  “How long have you worked for the Wolfes?” I asked.

  “About ten years,” Moira replied. “I was in private practice for twenty years, and this opportunity kind of stumbled into my lap.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. My daughter—the one you remind me of—did an internship here between her junior and senior year at Columbia. The Wolfes were expanding their legal department at the time, and she suggested I apply.”

  “So you did.”

  “I did.”

  “You must be grateful to her.”

  Moira laughed. “She was only an intern. I doubt she had anything to do with my getting hired. But she knew I was growing displeased with my firm and the decisions the partnership was making, and she knew a position here would pay well. I never thought they’d hire me.”

  “Did Derek Wolfe hire you?”

  She shook her head. “No. Lester Gardner did. He’s the chief counsel here. He runs the legal department.”

  I nodded. I felt a lot better knowing Derek Wolfe hadn’t hired Moira. She was so nice.

  “Tell me,” she said. “What made you decide to come here and tell your story?”

  I inhaled and let the air out slowly. “I guess Reid did.”

  She smiled. “I see.”

  “I know in my heart he didn’t kill his father.”

  “I believe that as well.”

  “I don’t think the rest of them did, either.”

  “Nor do I. The elder Mr. Wolfe had his share of enemies in the business world.” She sighed. “And in his personal world as well, I now know. I’m so sorry for what he put you through.”

  I simply nodded. She was being so kind to me, and I was near tears.

  “It’s okay.” She grabbed a box of tissues from the end table next to her and handed them to me. “You can cry if you want to.”

  I took a tissue and wiped away a tear before it fell. “I’m trying to be strong.”

  “I know you are. It’s a terrible thing, what he did to you. What he did to the others whose names we’ll never know.”

  “That’s why I’m doing this. Not just for Reid and his brothers and sister, but for them. The others. Derek Wolfe is already dead, but if we can put Father Jim away…”

  Moira’s countenance went rigid. “To think. All that nice stuff the father said about Derek during his memorial. It makes me sick.”

  I didn’t even want to think about what Father Jim might have said at the service. At some point, if he was arrested, I’d have to come face-to-face with him at his trial.

  I couldn’t bear the thought.

  Moira squeezed my forearm. “I have to get to some paperwork. Would you like a book or a magazine or something?”

  I shook my head. “I’d just like to lie down on the couch, if that’s okay.”

  “Of course it is. I have a blanket around here somewhere.”

  “I don’t need one. I’m not cold.”

  She rose and walked toward her desk. She returned with a fleece throw. “I get cold sometimes when I’m working late.”

  “Thank you.”

  I lay down, and Moira covered me as if I were a child. A tall child, of course. My feet stuck out.

  “Just relax,” she said. “I’m right here if you need me.”

  40

  Reid

  Buck Moreno was another ex-Navy SEAL, which was how he and Leif knew each other. Now he made money fighting MMA. No one knew he worked for me on the side. I financed his MMA fights and paid him hourly as well.

  “My man on the inside is watching Jim like a hawk,” Buck said.

  “Right. The priest?”

  “Yeah, Father Amos Baca. He and I served together. He was a chaplain.”

  “How’d you get him into the church?” I asked.

  “The less you know about that, the better,” Buck said. “Plausible deniability and all.”

  I nodded. “Got it.” I already knew more than I wanted to. Buck’s methods were foolproof. And also very illegal.

  “You were right,” he said. “There’s a system of tunnels under the church.”

  My throat ached. I knew what was coming. “And…”

  “They’re cave-like, built of stone. Legend has it they were part of the underground railroad back in the day.”

  “New York was in the north. How can that be?”

  “Churches were sanctuaries for runaway slaves. Manhattan was close to Maryland and Virginia, which were both slave-owning states.”

  “Wow. This place has a history.”

  “Yeah. A really
awesome history. The tunnels were used to hide runaway slaves until papers could be forged for them. Except that now those tunnels are probably being used for something horrific.”

  Nausea crawled up my throat.

  “Was there”—I swallowed back bile—“anyone down there?”

  He shook his head. “It’s all been cleared out, as far as I can tell. But there’s a stench.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He inhaled, wrinkling his nose. “You don’t serve as a Navy SEAL for ten years and not know the stench of dead human flesh. And that smell is down there.”

  I swallowed audibly, literally gulping back puke. “What else?” I finally said.

  “There’s an antechamber that all the tunnels lead to.” He paused a moment, closing his eyes.

  “Just get on with it,” I said. “For God’s sake.”

  He pulled his briefcase onto the table. “I found some things. Things that you aren’t going to like.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Nothing implicates you, so relax.”

  “Relax? That means nothing to me. What about my brothers? My sister? Zee?”

  “Zee?”

  I shook my head. “A story for another time. What is it? Just spit it out.”

  He pulled a folder out of his briefcase. “I took a lot of photos. It was dark down there, so the photos aren’t great, but I enlarged them and printed them out.” He pushed the file toward me.

  I instinctively looked around. I was about to see something that would disturb me. That much was apparent, so I needed to make sure no one was looking over my shoulder.

  A server glanced at me slyly out of the corner of his eye.

  Red flag. Big red flag.

  I pulled my own briefcase off the floor and shoved the folder into it. “We’re leaving.”

  Buck nodded. “I saw him too. He’s looked suspicious for a few minutes. Let’s bolt.”

  We walked slowly out of the café, each carrying our briefcases, until we found an unoccupied bench. We sat down.

  I pulled open my briefcase and pulled out the folder. I drew in a deep breath. “Care to give me some idea of what I’m about to look at?”

  “Pictures speak louder than words, Wolfe. Just prepare yourself.”