Recluse (Wolfes of Manhattan 2)

The key I needed to unearth to save my family.

The key only Charlie knew about.

“I told you the first time in the lobby. There is no key.”

She touched my cheek, the palm of her hand so warm against my now freezing skin. “There’s a key. You already admitted it to me earlier. You’re hiding it, Roy. And it’s killing you.”39CharlieHe didn’t deny my words.

I hadn’t meant to be so blunt. Whatever was inside him wasn’t literally killing him, but it was eating him up. Something about what Lacey had recalled had him spooked.

“It’s the name,” I said. “James.”

“James,” he said softly. “Jim.”

“Right. Jim. Who is it, Roy? Who is Jim?”

He didn’t answer, not that I expected him to. I glanced at my watch. I had twelve minutes now. Twelve minutes to uncover something that was probably buried under layers and layers of memories in Roy’s subconscious.

“He’s a priest,” Roy said finally. “Father Jim is a priest.”

I wasn’t Catholic, but I knew well the stories of priests who had behaved very badly. The thought of—

“He didn’t do anything to me. To any of us.”

“Not to you. Not to the Wolfes. That’s what you’re saying.”

He nodded. “Not to kids.”

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “Thank God.”

“But he…” Roy closed his eyes. “The elevator.”

“Were you in an elevator with Father Jim?”

“No. I was eighteen, I think. Nineteen maybe. The summer before college.”

“And he…?” I swallowed. Please don’t let this go there. Not Roy. Not my Roy.

“He was in the building. With my father. The Wolfe building.”

“Where I work?”

He cleared his throat. “Yeah. Only I wasn’t supposed to see…”

“See what, Roy? What weren’t you supposed to see?”

He closed his eyes. “Don’t. Don’t make me do this.” His body trembled.

I touched his face again. It was icy beneath my fingertips.

“Hey,” I said, my heart racing. “Easy. Open your eyes. Look at me.”

He obeyed, his dark eyes searing into my own.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to do this. Not right now.”

“I can’t,” he said.

“I know. I understand.”

“No, you don’t understand.” He sighed. “I can’t do it right now. I can’t do it…ever.”

My sweet, sweet Roy. His eyes were more troubled than I’d ever seen them.

“Just tell me for sure that nothing happened to you. Please. I have to know you’re okay.”

“Nothing happened to me, silver,” he said. “But I’m far from okay.”

Five minutes. Stupid fucking watch! I had five minutes before I had to leave to get to work on time. How could I leave him? How could I leave this man I loved when he was so distraught?

“Go,” he said. “Get to work. I know it’s important to you.”

“You’re important to me too.”

“I’ve lived this long without the key. I can live another hundred years if I have to. Go. Please.”

I scraped my fingers over his dark stubble. “Roy…”

“Do I have to force you to leave?”

I stood. I had to. The job. Lacey. The commitment. Everything.

Roy.

Everything.

Roy was a part of everything.

“I’ll go,” I said, “but this isn’t over. I’m coming straight over here after work tonight, and we’re going to finish this conversation.”

Roy said nothing. Just sat, as if numb, while I let myself out.Thank God for busywork. I got to hide in my office for most of the day making phone calls. Worked for me, since my breasts were on full display in another woman’s stretchy shirt.

At least we didn’t have a meeting in the conference room today, which meant I wouldn’t see Roy. I needed to keep thoughts of him at bay so I could get my work done. I worked on the memorial service with Terrence, and then I set up what seemed like a million—but was only eleven—appointments for Lacey.

Back to the memorial service.

Next on my list.

Call priest at St. Andrew’s Parish and reconfirm time at the church.

Easy enough. I found the number and placed the call.

“St. Andrew’s.”

“Hi there. This is Charlie Waters at Wolfe Enterprises. I need to speak to…” What was his name? I had no idea. “The parish priest to confirm our memorial service for Mr. Wolfe.”

“Oh, of course. Let me connect you.”

A few seconds passed. Then,

“Father Jim here.”

My stomach dropped and my skin went cold.

Father Jim. Was this Roy’s Father Jim?

I cleared my throat. “Yes, hello, Father. This is Charlie Waters at Wolfe Enterprises. I’m just calling to reconfirm the memorial service for next week.” Another throat clear. “For Mr. Wolfe. Er…Derek Wolfe.”

“Yes, of course. It’s all scheduled on our end.”

“All right. Thank you, Father.”

“Not a problem. Happy to do it. Mr. Wolfe was a huge supporter of our parish. Did you know I gave all the Wolfe children their first communion?”

“No, I didn’t. That’s…interesting.”

“Tell me. Have you heard from Riley?”

“We haven’t. We’ve got the best PIs looking for her. I’m sure she won’t want to miss her father’s service.”

The lie tasted like moldy vegetables in my mouth. Why would Riley want to go to a memorial service for the man who molested her for her entire life?