“I guess I never thought much about it,” Reid said. “I was always in the office, but I steered clear of him as much as I could. I mean, who wouldn’t?”

“She’s gone now,” Rock said, “and we know she’s not with him. I think it’s safe to assume it’s possible she wasn’t with him when she disappeared before.”

“Who knows what we can assume at this point?” Reid said.

I nodded.

After what Riley had been through at our father’s hands, of course she wanted to disappear. Hell, I’d thought about it more than once. And Rock? He’d done it. After military school, he’d never returned to Manhattan.

Now, having been to Montana twice, I understood why.

Montana was good for a person’s soul. It was almost a cleansing balm.

I needed to cleanse myself before I could be with Charlie again. She deserved a whole man, not someone whose insides were as big a mess as mine were.

God, the secrecy.

Rock had spilled his biggest secret.

Now I had to spill mine.

Except I’d held it in for so long—hidden it from even myself—that I wasn’t sure I could put it into words.

“Father Jim,” was all I said.

“What about him?” Reid asked.

“I don’t want him doing the memorial service.”

“Why not? Dad gave that church a ton of money over the years. He owes us.”

“It’s not that.”

“Wait,” Reid said. “We used to make jokes about the altar boys going into the confessional with Father Jim, but are you saying…”

I shook my head vehemently. “No. He never touched me. Never touched any kid, that I know of.”

“Then what’s the beef with him?” Rock said.

Indeed, what was the beef with him?

I’d suppressed everything for so long. So, so long.

Was Father Jim in those blurred images? Or wasn’t he?

“Nothing,” I said.

Rock cleared his throat. “I don’t buy it. What’s the problem with Father Jim?”

“Dad wasn’t a religious man.”

“So what?”

“We shouldn’t have a priest doing his service. That’s all.”

Yeah, that was all.

Nothing more there.

Except it was a lie.

I knew something about Father Jim. Something I couldn’t put into words yet. It had nothing to do with the altar boys or the nuns. Or even the parishioners.

No, it was far more sinister.

It concerned my father.

And I’d buried it long ago.

For good.

27

Charlie

“Of course not,” Blaine said. “That’s the reason I invited you to lunch.”

Right. The other stuff was just to soothe his own ego. He didn’t want me back any more than I wanted him back. Which was fine with me.

“Then what is it?” I asked.

“It’s about Derek Wolfe.”

“Okay. What about him?”