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I hang up on him, squeezing the phone tight in my grip.
It’s infuriating to have him baby me. Dad spent all that time teaching me about forensics and the like, for what? So my Uncle could never see past the safe little accountant Dad guilted me to be? Screw that.
I’m not giving up.
My eyes linger over my shoulder, to the mansion across the way. Is Aros watching me right now? A part of me wishes he was. The man has such raw confidence, such sureness. I bet he’d be able to find my father if I could convince him.
He’s probably mafia, Quinn. Don’t even think about it.
Just as the thought enters my mind, heat tingles from my frozen toes all the way up my thighs, like his fingers are caressing them. I shut my eyes to ignore the sensation.
Maybe I am delirious…
Alright. Time to play nice with the rookie, even if it is a longshot.
My boots scrunch over the snow as I make way to the front door, and when I stomp them clean, Jacob reluctantly looks up from his phone.
“You can pretend to look busy,” I say.
His face turns a shade of pink. He could say anything to me: “I don’t work for you.” “Go to your room.” Anything to fight back a bit. But I’m on a first name basis with his boss, and that scares the shit out of these first years on probation.
“Can I help you, Ms. Dall?” he says with a frown.
“Actually, you can. I need you to show me something.” I hold out my hand. “Your phone.”
“What?”He takes his elbows off the kitchen island and stands defensively.
“Yeah. I want to see what Lieutenant Ferraro texted you.” I smirk knowingly.
“I’m not allowed to do that.”
“Consider it an order from his boss,CaptainDall,” I say, stepping forward.
“I’ll get in serious trouble.”
“He’ll never know.”
Jacob shakes his head. He’s hedging his bet that my father is already dead, which hits me like a bag of bricks to the face.
“Fine, c’mon then.” I grab him by the wrist and drag him outside. As punishment, I don’t give him time to put on his coat. Judging by his lack of protest, Uncle F already told him to placate me, which infuriates me to no end.
At least Aros had the decency to care.
“You see that?” I point and put my phone with the image of the fully sketched bratva star next to it. “Tell me that’s not an uncanny match?”
Jacob stands on his tiptoes and scratches it with his pinkly-cold finger. I gasp at the lack of care. If he really thought it was evidence, he would never. With mounting frustration, I swipe his phone from his pocket and revel in the stupidity of it being unlocked.
“Quinn’s going through a tough time. I’m going to need you to entertain her suspicions, and after she’s satisfied, try to convince her to get some rest.”
My blood boils upon seeing the text, and so does Jacob’s, apparently, when he angrily grabs his phone back.
“Ms. Dall. I’m just trying to do my job!”
“And I’m trying to help find my father!” I yell right back, stepping into his face. “What would you do if it was your dad,huh?” I grab onto his shoulder, then nod toward the shingles. “You think that’s just coincidence?”
“I—I don’t know.” He shrugs.
“Aren’t you an officer?”