No wonder Caroline had wanted to divorce me. Not only had she discovered a dead woman in my past, but my father had implied that it was from a sex game gone wrong. “I don’t know how Mirelle died,” I said.

“Bloodily,” my father answered. “Juliet took photos of you.”

My sister hadn’t mentioned that part, but I had no doubt she’d shown Caroline whatever she’d snapped.

“Caroline wanted to know why you hadn’t gone to jail, or even been charged,” my father added. “She was persistent, and I cracked. I admitted that I had you whisked away to a rehab facility in another country. That I covered things up as best I could.” He stared into the distance. “I felt like she didn’t look at me the same way again after that. We were always so close, and she was as sweet as ever, but there was a gulf between us.”

“You admitted you covered up a crime,” I said. “What reaction were you expecting?”

“I hoped she would understand. A man can do a bad thing without actually being bad himself.”

It was the ends-justify-the-means argument I’d heard my father make all my life. It didn’t seem to apply here. “Juliet just attacked me for never telling Caroline about Mirelle. But how could I? She would have hated me. Anyone would.”

“Juliet is a snake, and you shouldn’t listen to anything she says. I wish you’d come back and work for the family business, Theo. You’re away on your own too much, and it’s affecting you. What’s past is—”

“Don’t say it.” I felt light-headed, almost sick. “Why did you summon me here?”

“We need to talk, son. About your alibi.”

“My alibi? For what?”

“For Caroline’s death,” he said.

I stared at my father, barely able to breathe. “You’ve lost your mind.”

My father waved his hand in the air dismissively. He was a large man with a face creased like ancient parchment, a look that was emphasized when his brows were tightly knit together, as they were at that moment. “Please don’t lie to me, Theo. It’s disrespectful.”

“Are you accusing me of killing my wife?” My voice was tight and strained. “I wasn’t even in New York when it happened.”

“I know that’s not true, Theo.”

I froze. How could he possibly know that?

He stared at me balefully before getting up and making his way to the bar trolley. He poured himself a scotch. “Drink?” he asked me.

“No, and you don’t need one either. You’re talking nonsense.”

It was a challenge to read his expression in the dusky light of his office. His face was crowded with shadows that crept through its hollows and peaks.