CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“AUNT ROSALIE?” CECE entered Rosalie’s two-story brick home that night with snacks for their Netflix binge. “Where are you?” He walked through the walnut panel floor and into the den. “Auntie?”
Rosalie sat on the beige and white sofa with her arms crossed, watching Sons of Anarchy.
“Hey, you’ve started already?” He set the sack of food on the console table, grinning. “You’re supposed to wait for me, remember?”
She tucked in her lips.
“Auntie, what’s wrong?” He sat on the cushioned footstool by the recliner.
“Why did you tell Quarter and Wilks you were with me when Lang Latimer was murdered?” She clutched the remote. “When you weren’t?”
CeCe rubbed the spot below his nose.
“Huh?” She crooked her head to him, worry lines filling her face. “Why did you lie to the p
