But if Rock was going to show us what he’d been hiding…

I should do the same.

I hadn’t let myself think about that time clearly in over a decade.

For so long, I’d kept it a blur, let it fuck with my mind but stay out of my life.

Oh, it came out. It came out in my art, particularly in the abstract in the lobby of the Wolfe building—the painting that had brought me to Charlie.

The painting that had tortured my soul to complete, but that, to this day, was my best work.

I’d had offers in the seven figures for it, offers I’d never had before for anything I’d painted.

I’d turned down every single one of them.

Every. Single. One.

That painting was too personal. Locked inside it was a truth I couldn’t yet acknowledge.

And I didn’t paint a key.

25

Charlie

Back at the office the next day, I dived into my work. Anything to get my mind off Roy Wolfe.

Oddly, he hadn’t balked when I refused to sleep with him last night. I’d expected a fight. Honestly, I’d expected I’d give in.

Even though I knew it was for the best until I knew him better, I was disappointed he’d acquiesced so easily.

Something was bothering him.

Lacey asked me to help Terrence put the memorial service for Derek Wolfe together. We had five days to plan a first-class service that showed the world how much the Wolfe siblings missed their father.

Big problem number one—one of said siblings had disappeared.

Big problem number two—the other three hated him.

Money was no object, I’d been told. Plan the most elaborate service and hang the costs.

So I would.

Roy would be in the office later. The siblings and Lacey were meeting to discuss what Rock had to tell them about Riley. I hadn’t been included in that, which was just as well. First, I wasn’t family. Second, I didn’t particularly want to see Roy.

We’d both be better off away from each other until I figured him out a little better and he stopped hiding whatever he was hiding.

Leta Romero also never left my mind. Someone had made that phone call to her sister an hour before Derek was actually murdered.

Was it possible the cops got the time of the murder wrong? Not likely.

I sighed. Better not to dwell on Leta or anything else. I had work to do.

Terrence had given me a bunch of numbers to call for catering for the wake after the service. The wake would be held at the Waldorf Astoria, with limos transporting guests from St. Andrew’s.

The Wolfes were spending a crazy amount of money.

A crazy amount of money to make it look like they were mourning their bastard father.

Of course, it was pennies to them.