Recluse by Helen Hardt

Author:Helen Hardt
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hardt & Sons

25

Charlie

Back at the office the next day, I dived into my work. Anything to get my mind off Roy Wolfe.

Oddly, he hadn’t balked when I refused to sleep with him last night. I’d expected a fight. Honestly, I’d expected I’d give in.

Even though I knew it was for the best until I knew him better, I was disappointed he’d acquiesced so easily.

Something was bothering him.

Lacey asked me to help Terrence put the memorial service for Derek Wolfe together. We had five days to plan a first-class service that showed the world how much the Wolfe siblings missed their father.

Big problem number one—one of said siblings had disappeared.

Big problem number two—the other three hated him.

Money was no object, I’d been told. Plan the most elaborate service and hang the costs.

So I would.

Roy would be in the office later. The siblings and Lacey were meeting to discuss what Rock had to tell them about Riley. I hadn’t been included in that, which was just as well. First, I wasn’t family. Second, I didn’t particularly want to see Roy.

We’d both be better off away from each other until I figured him out a little better and he stopped hiding whatever he was hiding.

Leta Romero also never left my mind. Someone had made that phone call to her sister an hour before Derek was actually murdered.

Was it possible the cops got the time of the murder wrong? Not likely.

I sighed. Better not to dwell on Leta or anything else. I had work to do.

Terrence had given me a bunch of numbers to call for catering for the wake after the service. The wake would be held at the Waldorf Astoria, with limos transporting guests from St. Andrew’s.

The Wolfes were spending a crazy amount of money.

A crazy amount of money to make it look like they were mourning their bastard father.

Of course, it was pennies to them.

I shook my head. I couldn’t even comprehend the amount of money in the Wolfe coffers. When you got into billions, did numbers even matter anymore?

Damn.

My phone buzzed.

“Charlie Waters,” I said into my Bluetooth.

“Charlie, hello.”

Blaine Foster. I could tell by his voice, of course, but more so how he said “hello.” It came out more like “hell-oo.”

“Blaine, what can I do for you?”

“Just checking in. How’s the new job?”

“It’s good, thank you.”

“And Lacey?”

“She’s fine. Doing well.”

“It’s not every day a lawyer becomes personal counsel to the CEO of a billion-dollar enterprise. And so quickly too.”

“You know as well as I do how she got the position, Blaine.”

“True. I always thought highly of Lacey. Smart as a whip, that one.”

“Yes, she is.”

“Or was, anyway.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“She married a man she’s known for less than a month.”

“They fell in love. And why the hell am I explaining this to you?”

“You certainly don’t owe me any explanation.”

“You’re right about that. Thank you for calling, Blaine, and checking in. I’m doing great.”

“How about lunch today?”

Seriously? We were so over. “I don’t think so.”

“Reconsider.”

“Uh…no, I won’t reconsider. Goodbye, Blaine.”

“Charlie—”

“What? What is it? I’m knee deep into planning a billionaire’s memorial service.

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