Reckoning (Wolfes of Manhattan 5)

“Dumb bitch,” Hoss said.

I looked around at the three people. Hoss. Manny. Nieves. If someone asked me who I hated most out of the three, I wasn’t sure I could give an answer. I hated them all for different reasons.

My mind raced. We had only Nieves’s claim that the call was made by Roy. She hadn’t met him. Hadn’t ever heard his voice. Maybe it was my father pretending to be Roy, as he’d pretended to be me when he called Rock’s landline.

Which was still all just a theory…

“Just how the hell do you know it was him?” I demanded.

“He identified himself,” she said timidly.

“And this was something you’ve kept from us this whole fucking time?” I was beginning to see Rock’s point about going back on that promise to never hit a woman. “So all we have, then, is you telling us it was him. You claiming he identified himself.”

“Yes,” she said, looking down at her bare feet.

I shook my head. What could I say? Nothing.

I turned to my brother. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“That our father made that call? Yeah, it’s crossed my mind.”

I kneaded my temples, trying to ease the throbbing. “He couldn’t have done this, right? He couldn’t have actually had himself killed.”

“I don’t know, man.” Rock rubbed at his stubbled jawline. “At this point, I’m ready to believe just about anything.”

“I’ve considered it,” I said. “Going out on his own terms. It’s very Derek Wolfe. Maintaining control at all costs. But actually dying? Not being able to enjoy the empire he built? That’s very not Derek Wolfe. What is Derek Wolfe is him faking his own death and then living out the rest of his life on a private island in the Pacific.”

“Agreed,” Rock said.

“Which means,” I continued, “our theory that he put this in motion, intending to go out with a bang and then live out his life in paradise makes more sense. Then someone at the NYPD got involved, thanks to these three clowns”—I gestured—“and someone took advantage of what our father had put into motion. Dear old Dad had already made sure the four of us were suspects, so there you go. Easy plan. Derek dies, and we fry for it.”

“Right on,” Rock said. “That’s a lot more believable, and we already know the NYPD got involved thanks to these jerks.”

“So why, then,” I asked, to myself as much as to Rock, “would Roy—or Dad—call Nieves and tell her he was already dead? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“What exactly did he say to you?” Rock asked Nieves.

“I don’t remember.”

“Uh…yeah, you do,” I prompted.

“Fine.” She huffed. “He said, ‘This is Roy Wolfe. It’s done.’”

No way. I yanked the stupid beanie off my head and threaded my fingers through my now greasy hair. Roy was not involved in this. Absolutely not.

“It was an imposter,” I said. “Roy did not make that phone call. He would have told us.”

“Bro,” Rock said, “Roy has always been kind of a closed book.”

“No.” I shook my head vehemently. “Don’t you see what’s happening here? It’s our fucking father. He’s pitting us against each other from beyond the grave. Motherfucker.”

“There is that phone call Roy got, though.” Rock paused a moment. “Remember when he called us all to that pub? I’d forgotten about it, because I found Lacey there with that massage therapist who wanted her to pay for his dinner. Fuck it all.”

“Right.” My mind raced again. “Neither of us took him seriously. We both had other shit on our minds. He was uptight that night. Something was really bothering him, and neither one of us took him seriously. Fuck. Not Roy.”

“He’s married now,” Rock said. “And he’s happy. We have to protect him.”

“If it was even him. My best guess is still that Dad called Nieves and pretended to be Roy. If not Dad, someone else.”

“Who, though? Who would do that?”

“Jim, maybe? Morgan? Someone else at the NYPD who was taking advantage of the situation and wanting to pin it on one of us?”

“Another fucking loose end.” Rock twisted his lips. “Man, I could use a drink. What do you have in the house, Hoss?”

“You think I’m giving you any alcohol?”

“I think you’ll do whatever my brother wants,” I asserted. “We’ve got you by the balls, remember?”

Rock grabbed Hoss’s arm. “I’ll take him in and bring back the alcohol. You keep watch on the other two.”

I nodded.

One more loose end.

We had to talk to Roy to tie this up, but how? We were supposed to be on our way to the Pacific.

And Zee.

Where was my sweet Zee?

Even with all of the shit raining down on us, she never left my mind for a moment.

I’m coming, I called silently to her. I’m coming, baby.

32

Zee

Reid. I love you so much. I need you. Please come for me. Please!

The words formed in my mind independently of thought now. Two nights had passed since I’d been brought here. I hadn’t left the room, and now it was the middle of the night again.