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“I’d bet you’ll find something.”
“Who the hell is she?” I shook my head. “Why would she stay with such a psychopath? Surely she knew what was going on with him and my sister, even if she didn’t know about his hunting games.”
“I couldn’t tell you,” Buck said.
“Right. Shit. First, we have to make sure Lacey doesn’t get implicated any further.”
“As I told you, I took all the items I found. Doesn’t mean there aren’t others out there.”
“No, it doesn’t. Fuck.” I raked my fingers through my hair.
“Honestly, I’m surprised Jim—or someone else—hasn’t begun planting them yet.”
“Me too.”
Unless he had, and we’d missed it. Or…unless he knew we’d find the church underground and he left them there on purpose.
Then there was Hank Morgan, who seemed determined to pin this on one of us.
He was dirty.
I felt it in my bones.
“Thanks for everything, Buck.” I stood. “I’ve got to run. Time to pay a visit to dear old Mom.”
Connie Wolfe lived uptown in a lavish apartment. Her spousal maintenance, which had stopped after Dad’s death, had kept her living the high life. How long would she be able to stay in this place? I had no idea. Didn’t really care, either.
“I’m here to see my mother, Dexter,” I said to the doorman.
“Very good, Mr. Wolfe. Is she expecting you?”
“Honestly, I don’t give a rat’s ass.” I slipped him a couple Benjamins.
“Fair enough.” He opened the door. “Go ahead.”
I fetched the keycard to my mother’s place out of my wallet. She didn’t know I had it, but my secret would be out in a few minutes. I walked briskly to her private elevator, slid the keycard, and ascended.
The elevator doors opened into my mother’s lavish apartment. One of her servants nearly dropped the tray she was carrying. “Mr. Wolfe!”
“I’m sorry to startle you. I need to see my mother.”
“She’s having a massage right now,” the woman said.
“Ah, I suppose I shouldn’t interrupt that.”
“That would be best, sir.”
“I’m sure it would be. However, I’m in a hurry.” I scurried through the foyer and living area, up the stairs, and down the hall to my mother’s meditation chamber. Yeah, that was what she called it.
The aroma of lavender and chamomile crept through the doorway. Blech. Some people found the scent relaxing. I found it putrid. Or maybe it was just this whole situation that was putrid. I touched the door handle. It could very well be locked, but I had a hunch.
I turned it.
Voilà! I opened the door and made my way through the chamomile fog to—
Oh, God. No way would I ever be able to unsee what laid before my eyes.
My mother’s massage therapist—if you could call him that—had his head between her spread legs.
If I weren’t already a mess, this would have put me over the edge.
My mother was still a beautiful woman with a great body.
I’d never wanted to see this much of it, though.
I cleared my throat. Loudly, over the Native American flute music.
The head between my mother’s legs shot up.
“Good afternoon, Mother,” I said.
The therapist threw a sheet over my mother’s nudity. Good call. I’d be sure he got a bonus, though eating my mother might negate that. Did he fuck her too?
And why was I even asking myself that question? Of course he did.
“You’re dismissed,” I said to him.
“Yes, sir.” He moved quickly to exit the room.
I didn’t get a good look at him, but he was tall and well built. I wouldn’t have been able to pick him out of a lineup, though. I probably should have looked at his face.
I just didn’t want to see my mother’s lubricant on his chin.
I’d been feeling sick all day, and this was the clincher. I swallowed. Hard.
My mother popped up into a sitting position. “Reid! What are you doing here?”
“You do know solicitation is against the law, right? I could have you arrested.”
“I wasn’t paying him.”
“Connie, you were there when I was born, so you know damned well it wasn’t yesterday. Of course you were paying him for sexual services. I won’t hesitate to have you both arrested.”
“Really? You might want to talk to you brother before you make those kinds of threats.”
“My brother backs me completely.”
“Does he?”
Was she talking about Rock or Roy? Probably Rock, though it didn’t really matter. “Yes,” I said confidently. “He does.”
“Then ask yourself why he agreed to continue paying me seven figures a month, Reid.”
“Rock?” That didn’t sound like Rock.
“Of course Rock. Roy has no access to business coffers. Surprised, are you?”
“No,” I lied. “You’re our mother. We’re not going to let you flounder.” Another lie. I’d never let my mother live on the streets, but she sure as hell didn’t need to live like this.
“I see.”
Did she believe me? Rock and I would be having a conversation later, but I hadn’t come here to let my mother pit my brother and me against each other.
