I was in love.
Fucking in love with a woman whose life my father had tried to destroy.
God help me.
31
Zee
I felt…useless.
I wanted to do something. Something to help Reid. Something more than just tell the story of what I’d been through long ago at his father’s hands.
The priest’s hands.
There were others there too, but I didn’t recall any of them chasing me. Were they chasing others? I tried to remember, but I couldn’t. I’d been focused only on one thing.
Survival.
Funny, how the mind works. The instinct for survival is greater than anyone can imagine. I didn’t know how strong it was…
Until I’d had to face it.
I’d been ready to do anything—absolutely anything—to prolong my life for one more second.
If I’d had a weapon, I’d have used it. I’d have maimed or killed to save my own life.
I’d have spread my legs and let the two of them rape me.
But they weren’t interested in rape. Only in the hunt.
The hunt to kill.
Strange that I hadn’t thought about it in so long. After rehab, I’d gotten therapy and trained myself to compartmentalize.
I’d done pretty well until now.
Now, when my feelings for Reid Wolfe brought it all together in my mind. He was Derek Wolfe’s son, which blew the compartmentalizing thing into outer space.
It just wasn’t possible anymore.
Yet I couldn’t bring myself to feel too sad about that. I wouldn’t trade my time with Reid for anything. It was so special, and I wanted it to last as long as it could, which wouldn’t be long.
Once this murder was solved, he and I would never cross paths again.
I kept to myself, despite having four roommates. I was closer to Mo than the other two, but though Mo shared some deep stuff with me, I’d never reciprocated. I was happy to be there for her, but I never felt the need to divulge anything.
I didn’t have a lot to share, other than my story, and until now, I’d never shared that with anyone. Not even my therapist. She didn’t know the whole truth.
I needed to share now, though, and with someone other than this detective.
I wanted to vent.
To explode.
But who could I trust?
When I was younger, I talked to a pastor sometimes. My mother and I weren’t overly religious, and after my first communion at St. Andrew’s in Manhattan we never went to that parish again. I went to a protestant church with a neighbor every now and then and talked to the pastor there. He used to say the Lord’s Prayer with me. I got into the habit of saying it nightly, until I prayed it that fateful day…and then stopped praying altogether.
A pastor would be trustworthy. A pastor should be trustworthy.
But one of my hunters had been a priest. A priest who mocked his collar by wearing it while tormenting another human being.
The priest who gave an innocent little girl her first communion, and ten years later, hunted her.
Nope. No pastor or priest.
Unless…
St. Andrew’s. I was stronger now. I grabbed my phone and did a search.
Father James Wilkins. St. Andrew’s. I had a credit card with a small line. I could take a cab…
I could confront my demons.
Once and for all.
I dressed quickly. Now what? Reid had my number. He’d call when they needed me, and I’d come back. After all, I hadn’t told him I wouldn’t leave the building.
It was time.
Time to take back my life in more ways than one.
32
Reid
I sat in my office while Hank Morgan questioned Rock. I was next, but in the meantime, I wanted to check in with my man on the inside.
I looked up when someone knocked on the door.
“Yeah. Come on in.”
A young man entered.
“Speak of the devil,” I said. “I was just going to call you. Have a seat.”
Leif Ramsey, a former Navy SEAL who’d been discharged due to a hip injury in the line of duty, sat down to face me. I’d hired him a few years ago as a kind of in-house spy. He was on the company’s payroll as an administrative assistant, but he was also on my personal payroll.
“Anything new?” I asked.
“I’ve asked around as well as I can without raising suspicion. No one remembers seeing your father access your office that day, but it was weeks ago and no one would really think twice if he went into your office.”
“Right. Why would they?”
“But there’s one thing that doesn’t quite jibe.”
I raised my eyebrows. “What’s that?”
“Your assistant. Terrence.”
Terrence? He’d been with me a while and did an incredible job. The guy got things done that no one else would be able to. He got me those great seats at Zee’s show in the middle of the night. He had contacts.
I inhaled deeply. “Spill it.”
Leif cleared his throat. “Terrence claims he doesn’t remember seeing anyone access your office on the day in question, but his calendar tells a different tale.”
“How so?”
“Luckily, I hacked into several personal calendars before I started questioning. I wanted to see if anything stood out before I asked questions. Otherwise, they might do some deleting. Not that I couldn’t recover deletions, but it would take time and energy that we don’t really have right now.”
“Got it. Go on.”
“His calendar indicates, or at least it indicated, that he was out of the office that day.”
“Where?”
“It didn’t say. Just said he took a personal day. So I figured when I questioned him, that’s what he’d tell me. But he didn’t. He said he didn’t remember seeing anyone access your office that day.”
Hmm. Strange. I wrinkled my forehead.
“Does Terrence take a lot of personal days?” Leif asked.
“No more than anyone else.” I opened my phone to my own calendar, pulling up the date of the phone call. “Strange. If he’d taken a personal day, I’d have had to approve it, and it would show on my calendar.”
“Do you always approve his personal days?”
“I can’t think of a time I haven’t,” I said. “Like I said, he doesn’t abuse the privilege.”
“This could mean nothing,” Leif said, “but
