“Devil woman? I don’t think so.”

“Why do you hate Mom so much? She did the best she could under the circumstances. She was Dad’s victim too.”

“You’re deluding yourself, man.”

“What could she have done better? She took care of us.”

“She hired nannies to take care of us.”

“Well…yeah. But at least she didn’t beat the hell out of us.”

“We were all bigger than she was.”

“Not always. Not until we hit eleven or so.”

True. Our mother hadn’t beaten us. She’d been indifferent, for the most part. I could have forgiven her that. I could have forgiven her almost anything, if not for that horrible conversation I’d overheard between her and Riley. But that wasn’t my story to tell. It was Riley’s.

“You’re not at all curious who did Dad in?” I asked.

“Not in the slightest, and I can’t for the life of me figure out why you are.”

“Easy.” I picked up the cup of brown water and took another sip. “I’d like to buy him dinner, complete with a Champagne toast.”

That got another soft laugh out of my brother. “Man, I’d go in on that with you.”

“Do you think Roy and Riley would?”

“Roy, yeah. In a heartbeat. Riley’s tougher to figure out. She had a closeness with Dad that Roy and I didn’t share. Maybe because she was the only girl. I don’t know.”

If I hadn’t been sure Reid was in the dark about Dad and Riley, I was certain now. “What kind of closeness?”

“Dad would take her on trips. Big, lavish trips to places like Paris and Barcelona. They even went to Bangkok once. Roy and I finally stopped complaining about it. It didn’t do any good.”

“How old was Riley when she went on these trips with Dad?”

“It started when she was pretty young. Eight or so. They went on until she left for college. Or they might have continued, for all I know. I was already working here by then, and Roy was off in Soho painting.”

Fucking bastard.

I knew exactly what had gone on during those trips.

“I’ll tell you something, Reid. It’s a good thing somebody else murdered that prick. If he hadn’t, I might have.”

18

Lacey

Finally, the day was over, and I couldn’t wait to get home and into a hot bath. If Rock Wolfe was going to take up residence in my head, I might as well let him. I could fantasize while sitting in a luscious citrus steamy bath, a glass of wine next to me.

Why fight it? I’d get it out of my system. I’d even pull out my vibrator if I had to.

One evening ought to do it, and then I’d be freshly cleared out, kind of like doing a quick clean on my hard drive.