by HELEN HARDT
“She had to be over eighteen to sign a legal document,” Lacey said.
“And this happened when you were a new associate, right?” Rock said.
Lacey nodded. “Like my second week.”
And that was about six years ago. I calculated quickly. “Assuming Zinnia was young, only eighteen or nineteen, she’d be in her mid-twenties today.”
“That’s a big assumption,” Reid said.
“I don’t know that it is,” Rock said. “He abused Riley. What billionaire is going to go out looking for old women?”
“True,” Lacey said. “At least we’ve narrowed the parameters a bit.”
“We’ll leave it to the PIs,” Rock said. “Damn, we’re spending a lot of money trying to ferret out Derek Wolfe’s killer when none of us are even remotely unhappy that he’s gone.”
“This has our father’s stench all over it,” Reid said.
“A setup?” Rock asked. “I wouldn’t put it past him. He had all the money in the world to cover his tracks.”
Roy stayed silent.
I watched him, his full lips flattened almost into a line.
He didn’t believe Derek had set his kids up. He didn’t believe Derek Wolfe had orchestrated his own death.
Neither did I.
“Seems like a stretch,” Lacey finally said. “Derek lived the life of a king. Why would he want to end his own life and frame everyone close to him?”
“You all know him better than I do,” Rock said. “But it doesn’t seem like a stretch to me.”
“Me either,” Reid agreed.
Again, Roy stayed silent.
I’d ask him about it later.
“At least we know Riley is okay,” Rock added. “That’s something.”
“But she won’t come home,” Roy said.
“Who can blame her?” Reid said.
“She’s under contract.” Roy pushed a strand of hair out of his eye. “She could ruin her career.”
“As long as I stay at the helm of Wolfe Enterprises,” Rock said, “the company is ours. Riley won’t ever need to worry about money.”
“You want our sister to be an heiress for a living?” Roy said. “She’s much more Ivanka Trump than Paris Hilton. She should be using her brain.”
“And you know this because…”
“Because she’s my sister. Reid and I were around as she grew up.”
“He’s right, Rock,” Reid said. “We may not know our sister very well, but one thing we do know is that Riley likes making her own way. It’s why she got into modeling. We all know she didn’t need the cash. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if she’d like to get far away from the Wolfe money. Seems you could understand that.”
“Hell, yeah, I can understand that. I’m just saying she doesn’t need to worry about money. None of us do.”
“Riley seemed to intimate…” Roy’s voice drifted off.
“Intimate what?” Rock demanded.
“That those other times she disappeared were Dad’s doing, that he…” Roy cleared his throat.
No one responded for a minute. How could we? We all knew exactly what he meant.
“I don’t think I can ever forgive myself,” Roy continued. “How were we so blind to what was going on, Reid?”
Reid shook his head. “I don’t know. We hated the bastard, and we hated her for being his favorite.”
“I never hated her,” Roy said.
“You know what I mean.” Reid shook his head. “We had our own issues.”
“If you want to blame someone,” Rock said, “blame me. I knew what was going on, and I stayed away.”
Lacey touched Rock’s arm. “Honey, you were stuck in military school.”
“Not once I turned eighteen. I hated the bastard so much that I vowed never to return to New York again. I didn’t stop to think about what I was leaving behind, the life I was condemning my baby sister to.”
“You were angry,” Lacey said.
“Hell, yes. Still am. But I put myself above my baby sister. That will never happen again. If it’s the last thing I do, I’m going to figure out who killed that motherfucker father of ours so this shadow over all our heads disappears.”
“Right there with you, bro,” Reid said.
“Me too,” Roy said, his dark eyes on fire.
I knew that look. I’d seen it when he and I were passionate.
It meant one thing.
He was passionate about solving this mystery. For his sister. For his brothers. For himself.
For us.
I smiled at him.
“I love you,” I mouthed.
50
Roy
Warmth surged through me.
Charlie loved me.
Her love gave me strength I never knew I had. Never dreamed I had. This was important. I believed with all my heart and soul that none of my siblings were responsible for my father’s death. I didn’t have a clue who was, but I knew without a doubt four people—five, including Lacey—who weren’t.
I’d leave Zinnia to Rock, Reid, and the PIs. I had other fish to fry, namely, my therapy session this evening.
I’d made it through the forest. I’d uncovered the key.
Now all I had to do was open the door.
I entered the forest already clad in the down parka.
I danced over the twigs.
Two obstacles down.
But the trees…
They still popped up everywhere. Just when I thought I’d made it back to the clearing, another tree stood in my way.
Tall pine trees, whose needles pricked my skin, causing red bumps to erupt.
I gazed at my hands. They itched and burned. Damn! I rubbed furiously at them, my skin peeling away.
No. I loved pine trees! I loved visiting upstate New York where they flourished in the Adirondacks.
I wasn’t allergic. Why were they making my skin red and swollen with pricks and boils?
I picked up my pace, panting, my hands throbbing as the pine resin inflamed them.
No. Didn’t make sense. Didn’t make sense.
The pain stopped.
I regarded my hands. The boils and scratches were gone. Yes!
But still more trees stood in my way.
Trees… Trees… Trees…
Until they were gone.
And I stood once more in the clearing.
The steel cube stood in the distance.
The elevator.
I ran.
And I ran.
And I ran.
Yet the elevator seemed to be getting farther and farther away.
Until I stopped abruptly, the steel wall only a foot away from me.
On the mossy ground lay the key.
Pick it up.
Was that my voice? No, it was my head. Someone had planted the words in my head.
Perhaps that someone was me.
Was I ready?
I didn’t move, and the key stayed in place.
For so long I’d buried this memory under layers and layers of steel in my mind.
The roots, the cold, the tree—all were barriers I’d created.
I’d made it through the barriers.
Only this last barrier—this key—remained.
Pick it up.
The words again.
I bent over and grasped the key. The metal was hot against my flesh, so hot I nearly dropped it. Metal should be cool, not hot. I inhaled.
An acrid scent of burnt flesh.
The key fell from my hand, and in my palm, a sizzling red burn in the shape of it remained.
No!
No!
I bent over and picked it up again, determined to see this through. It still burned my hand, but I didn’t care. I slipped it in the keyhole above the elevator pad.
Turned it.
The elevator doors slid open.
And I entered.
51
Charlie
I sat in the waiting area. I’d leafed through another i
ssue of Cosmo and was now looking at People.
Roy hadn’t talked much at dinner, and I hadn’t told him about my lunch with Blaine. Didn’t matter. Nothing had been accomplished, anyway, and Blaine knew now where I stood. Of course, I’d made it clear before, and that hadn’t stopped him.
I sighed.
The receptionist looked up. “Do you need anything?”
I shook my head. “Sorry. I’m just a little antsy.”
“I’m sure he’s doing fine.”
I smiled and gave a slight nod. I was sure he was doing fine as well. I was just nervous about what was about to be revealed.
What it might mean for Roy.
I loved Roy Wolfe. I loved him more than I ever thought it was possible to love another human being. I wanted the best for him. I wanted him free from pain. I wanted whatever had been tormenting him out of his head.
He deserved to live a normal life. Well, as normal a life as any heir to a fortune could live. Together, though, he and I could be happy. Have something close to normal. Next to normal, at least.
I bit my lip, picked up my phone, read through a few emails, and then grabbed another magazine.
Dr. Woolcott had promised to stay as late as necessary tonight.
I had a feeling I’d be here for a while.
52
Roy
Get in.
That voice again. The voice that was mine but not mine.
Get in.
Get in the elevator.
I looked at my palm. The burn from the key had miraculously healed.
Get in.
I walked forward. One. Two. Three steps. Then one more. I stood, steel walls on three sides. And the doors closed slowly, slowly, slowly.
Now what?
The panel had only one button. The red one. The one you pressed in an emergency.
The one I’d pressed when…
When…
When…
Press the button.
Press the button.
Press the button.
My hand shook as I lifted it to the red button pulsing along with my heart.
I pressed it.
“Fuck!” I screamed.
My body plunged along with the steel trap that encased me. My stomach rose through my body, lodging in my throat.
The boxes. The dolly. I remembered.
They were there. One had been smashed open, and files were strewn over the floor.
I stood, fighting off the shivers, and picked up the files, placing them back in the carton.
Then the doors parted.
And—
I shot my eyes open.
“Mr. Wolfe?”
I turned toward the voice. Dr. Woolcott’s face was a blur. The whole room was a blur.
And I remembered.
I fucking remembered.
“A woman. Very young. Blond. She was naked. Her skin was… She’d been cut. Cuts on the top of her breasts, trickles of red blood oozing down over her nipples. Her…
How could I have forgotten this?
“Easy,” Dr. Woolcott said. “Take it slowly.”
“My father’s office. I was taking cartons of files down to the lower level for storage. I was eighteen. No, nineteen, doing an internship. The elevator stopped. Then the shaft broke, and it fell. It fell. But LL was the lowest level in the building. I know it went down. I don’t understand. I don’t…”
“Maybe there was a floor below the lowest floor,” the doctor said.
“Yeah. Yeah, there must have been.”
“Tell me more about the girl.”
“She was young, I think. Around my age. Maybe even younger. She gasped. She was saying ‘Help me. Please help me.’”
Then…blank.
“I don’t remember anything after that.” I rubbed my forehead. “Damn! The woman! What happened to the woman?”
“Concentrate. Do you want to go back under?”
I nodded. “Yeah. It’s the only way.”
No barriers this time. The elevator doors opened as I collected the strewn files.
A naked woman ran toward me. “Help me! Please, help me!”
“What? Who are you?” I looked into the dark hallway. “Where is this?”
“Please.” She gulped, tears streaming down her face. “Get me out of here.” She frantically pushed buttons on the panel.
“Damn it! Shut, you fucking door. Shut!”
The doors didn’t move. I quickly removed my shirt and wrapped it around her shoulders, her blood soaking into the stark white fabric. She was shivering, so frightened.
“What happened to you?” I asked.
“Just get me out of here. Get me out of here!”
This time I began punching at the buttons. Move, damn it. Move!
Then footsteps.
“No!” She gasped. “No! They’re coming.”
“Who? Who’s coming?”
“They want to… They tried to…” She burst into sobs. “Please. Please get me out of here!”
Then a voice. “We know you’re around here somewhere, bitch. Don’t try to hide.”
I knew that voice.
That voice had been raised to me many times.
My father.
“Who are you?” I said. “What did he do to you?”
“Not he. They. They’re going to kill me. Please, get me out of here.”
“I’m trying.”
“It’s a game,” she said. “They’re playing a game.”
A game? My father? They? Who were the others?
“What kind of game?”
“A hunting game. And I’m the prey.”
My eyes shot open once more. “God, I remember now. I remember.”
“Take it slow, Mr. Wolfe. What do you remember?”
Get out of here! This has nothing to do with you! Go do your sissy art!
“My father. He came running through the dark hallway, and behind him was…” I gulped. “Our priest. Father Jim.”
53
Charlie
Roy’s eyes were circled with shadows when he emerged from Dr. Woolcott’s office.
“We need to get everyone together,” he said to me. “Now.”
I nodded. I didn’t even think of questioning him. His eyes were dead serious.
An hour later we were back in the conference room where we’d sat during the afternoon to get Lacey’s news about Zinnia.
I, along with Rock, Reid, and Lacey, heard Roy’s story for the first time.
“How could you have kept that inside for so long?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” Roy said. “I buried it so deep, I guess. All this time, I knew there was something in there, something fucking with my mind, but I kept it buried, let it come out in my artwork. The only way I could deal with it.”
“Did our father do something to you?” Rock asked. “Something to make you forget?”
“I wouldn’t put it past him.” Reid stroked his chin.
“I don’t know. It’s clear as day now.” Roy rubbed at his temples. “Dad and Father Jim came running toward the elevator, and…” He closed his eyes. “Finally, the doors shut. All that time I’d been trying to get them to close, but they wouldn’t. Then, just in the nick of time, they did. That’s all I remember until…” He squeezed his eyes shut harder.
“Until what?” Reid asked.
“I remember going up in the elevator. I remember the door opening into the lobby. I remember the girl running out screaming. Then it all went black.”
“You probably fainted.”
“No. I didn’t faint.” Roy rubbed the back of his head. “I woke up later with a throbbing headache and a bump on the back of my head.”
“Someone knocked you out,” Rock said, “and I’ll bet you the Wolfe fortune I know who.”
“It couldn’t have been Dad,” I said. “He was somewhere else. Down…”
“Are you saying there’s a lower floor to our building that none of us know about?” Reid asked.
&nbs
p; “I don’t know what I’m saying. All I know is the elevator shaft broke and I fell. When the doors opened, I didn’t recognize where I was. And there wouldn’t be a naked woman running around on any of the other floors. Dad was down there. He couldn’t have been the one who hit me.”
“So there’s Dad, Father Jim, and some unknown assailant,” Rock said, shaking his head.
“And the woman,” Lacey added. “Whatever they had planned for her, she escaped it. None of you ever heard anything more about this?”
“I wasn’t around,” Rock said.
“And I never heard a thing,” Reid added. “I don’t even remember you having a concussion, Roy.”
“Neither do I, really,” Roy said.
“A concussion can sometimes cause some retrograde amnesia,” I piped in. “Maybe that’s what happened to you, Roy.”
“Or Derek could have drugged you,” Lacey offered. “A lot of drugs can make you lose the several hours before you actually took them.”
“Maybe,” Roy said. “Dad couldn’t have let me remember. What if I’d gone to the authorities? He’d have been finished.”
“Or not,” Rock countered. “He probably owned the authorities.”
“Then how could he be remembering now?” Reid asked. “No, this was something he buried intentionally. What that detective said is starting to make sense.”
“What?” Roy asked, still rubbing his head.
“Hank Morgan. He said some of your artwork showed signs of psychosis.”
Roy stood. “What?”
“Relax.” Rock’s voice was oddly soothing. “We didn’t believe it. We don’t believe it.”
Reid nodded. “I only mean that it makes sense that some of your art is dark. It must be how you dealt with this all these years.”
Roy sat back down and rubbed his forehead. “My painting. The one in the lobby… I know what it means now. I found the key.”
I smiled, wishing I could take him in my arms and comfort him.
