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For Zee, I could kill.
And that scared the hell out of me.
12
Lacey
A knock sounded on the door of the hotel suite the next morning. I opened it to find my sister-in-law, Riley, and her husband, Matt Rossi.
“Come on in,” I said. “I ordered bacon, eggs, and coffee.”
Riley launched herself into my arms. “I’m so sorry about everything.” She pulled back and gazed at me. “Have you slept?”
“Not a bit.” I’d already assessed my appearance in the mirror. My eyes were bloodshot and framed with dark circles. I looked as bad on the outside as I felt on the inside.
“Where’s your better half?” Matt asked, his blond hair settling over his broad shoulders.
“God, I don’t want to think about it.”
“What’s that mean?” Riley asked.
“It means”—I sighed—“he and Reid went after Father Jim.”
Riley’s eyes widened into circles. “Oh my God.”
“The two of them can take him,” Matt said.
“Can they?” I asked.
“Two against one? Of course they can. Either one could take him.” Matt rubbed his chin.
Matt was new to our family still. I laughed aloud at that thought. He wasn’t that much newer than I was.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing. Sure. Either Rock or Reid could make pulp out of Father Jim, but he’s got Derek Wolfe behind him.”
“Derek Wolfe is dead,” Riley reminded me. “Good riddance.”
“Well, his ghost is wreaking havoc.” I rubbed my temples, desperately trying to ease the throbbing. “Who knows what kind of fail safes he put in place for Jim? He was planning to fake his own death, if our theory is right. Surely he’d have protected his partner in crime.”
Riley scoffed. “He protected no one. If he had no interest in protecting his own children…” She shook her head wistfully.
“You’re right,” I relented. “He protected no one but himself. So we have to figure out if protecting Father Jim would ultimately do Derek any good.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Matt said, always the optimist.
No offense to Matt, but he grew up in a small town in Montana where no one locked doors at night. I loved him dearly, but he didn’t have a clue.
Riley grabbed his hand and squeezed it, saying nothing. Yeah, she was on my side on this. Growing up in New York City made a person cynical. Being a victim of Derek Wolfe made a person downright negative, and though I hadn’t gone through nearly what Riley had, in the end, I was also a victim of Derek Wolfe. I was being framed.
“Are we even sure the guy is dead?” Matt asked.
I nodded. “Believe me, I’ve had the same thought, but he’s dead. DNA analysis was performed on the corpse before it was cremated. Plus, Reid and Roy both identified him.”
“Still, things can be manipulated.”
I held back a scoffing laugh. “No offense, Matt, but you’ve watched too many cop shows. Derek’s organs were donated, and DNA was checked on every single one. Even the great Derek Wolfe can’t fake that.”
“I guess I’m a little naïve,” Matt said.
“Don’t change that, sweetie,” Riley said. “It’s part of your charm.”
“Naïveté obviously isn’t the best trait when we’re trying to solve a murder mystery.” Matt shoved his hands into the front pockets of his stonewashed jeans.
“The rest of us are cynical enough for you,” I said. “And we do welcome your input.”
He smiled. Sort of. Crap. I hadn’t meant to insult him. But right now I couldn’t think about others’ feelings. I was ready to go down for a crime I didn’t commit. At least New York didn’t have a death penalty.
“It’s okay,” he said. “Plus, I’m sure you’re worried about Rock and Reid.”
“I am, though you’re right. They can take care of themselves. But what if Jim is armed?”
Riley smiled. “You think Rock isn’t?”
I dropped my mouth open. Of course Rock wouldn’t go anywhere unarmed. My mind wasn’t working at capacity, and that had to change. However, it wouldn’t change without sleep.
“You’re right.” I shook my head. “Of course he wouldn’t.”
“My brothers are the strongest people I know,” Riley said. “Our father made them that way.”
She wasn’t wrong. I never thought I’d be grateful to the asshole, but if Rock and Reid were stronger because of him, I was.
But only slightly.
I jolted at the knock on the door.
“Easy,” Matt said. “It’s probably the breakfast you ordered.”
“Right, right.” Man, I was a walking nerve cell. I walked to the door.
Sure enough, it was the breakfast. The server wheeled the trolley into the room, and I scribbled my signature and a healthy tip on the bill.
“Anyone hungry?” I asked.
“I’ll just have coffee,” Riley said. “Maybe a piece of toast.”
“We’ve got to get you off that modeling diet,” Matt said. “Remember in Montana, when you ate Mexican food and pizza?”
“Please,” I said. “Help yourself. God knows I can’t eat.”
“You have to,” Matt urged. “You’re no use to anyone without sleep and nourishment.”
What could I say? He was right. I grabbed a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast and sat down at the table in the living area of the suite. Matt followed suit, and Riley finally took one slice of bacon along with her toast. It was a start.
