Lacey

I knocked on the bedroom door again. “Rock?”

No answer. Was he still in the bathroom? I entered. Rock stood facing the wall. The painting on the wall facing the bed sat on the floor, and a wall safe was opened. Rock stared into it.

I approached. Several small guns sat in the safe. My heart jumped as a sliver of fear sliced into me.

“Rock?” I said again, this time more timidly. “Everything okay?”

He shook his head. “Everything’s not okay. Not even close.”

I gulped. “That’s a lot of guns.”

“One less than should be here.”

“Why would you— Oh. Shit.”

“Someone stole my Glock. The exact model that was used to kill my dad.”

“But your gun didn’t kill your dad, Rock. You’d know that by now.”

“You’re right. I know. But still, this doesn’t look good. Especially with my prints—”

“Your prints?”

“I know. It’s crazy.”

“You weren’t even in the state of New York when your father was murdered.”

He nodded. “I have an ironclad alibi. Except that no one was here with me.”

“Rock, you were on a plane the next day. That’s easily traceable.”

“I know that, damn it! I’m not a moron, Lacey.”

“Easy.”

“Sorry, baby. But this is a fucking mess.”

“No, it’s not. I’m sorry someone stole your gun, but you weren’t in New York. They can’t possibly implicate you. I’m clearly the one who’s been implicated, and I was in Manhattan that night. I’m the one without an alibi, Rock. I was alone in my apartment. I have no alibi.”

“Your doorman?”

“Maybe.”

“Someone is trying to get to me through you. Damned if I know why, though. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe my mother isn’t behind this. Who else would want me to rot for the murder of my father?”

“Do you have any enemies?”

“Only my father, and even he isn’t stupid enough to plan his own death to get me from beyond the grave. Though he did do just that with that damned will of his.”

I cleared my throat. I had to ask, though I knew he wouldn’t answer. “Just why is your father an enemy, Rock? What happened between you two?”

His lips were a flat line.

No response. Not that I expected one.

I cupped his cheek. “It’s okay. You don’t have to talk about it. But if someone is implicating me—”

“I’ll protect you.”

I sighed. If only he could. Not even Wolfe money could get me out of this mess if someone had decided to frame me.

Why would anyone want to frame me?