“You’re sorry?” I roughly wiped away the tears that suddenly sprang from my eyes. Where’d they come from? Why was I crying now of all times? “Like that’s supposed to make it all better?”
She shook her head. “I know it doesn’t make up for what happened but… for what it’s worth, I am. I’m sorry.”
“Jolene?”
We both turned toward the wall of glass. Peter strode forward, head turning side to side as he scanned the office floor. “Jolene?”
I shot Eve one last tremulous look and wiped away my tears before turning on my heel and marching out of what used to be my office.
“Coming!”
Peter jumped when I suddenly appeared before him. “Where’d you go?”
“I had to take care of something,” I mumbled before marching past him. I pointed at the receptionist. “Lead the way.”
Her eyes widened for a moment, then she spun and walked back down the hall with Daisy in tow. Peter jogged up beside me. “Take care of what?”
It wasn’t like Peter to press me for information, but I didn’t blame him. I’d been acting erratic and shifty for days now. Still, I didn’t have the energy to come up with a realistic lie.
“I had to use the bathroom.”
Peter glanced behind him, then back at me, eyes wide. “But—that’s an office.”
I raised my brows. “Oops. Hope they pay the cleaners well.”
That stopped him in his tracks before he jogged to catch back up with me. “Hey.” He placed a hand on my shoulder as we walked. “You okay? You look a little shaken up.”
I gulped, my throat tight. “I’m fine.”
Daisy cast a glance back at me and whined, her dark eyes tight. Untrue. Even Daisy was giving me a wide berth.
I balled my shaking hands into fists, in no state to discuss my wild, racing emotions. Rage and confusion and hurt surged inside me. “I’m fine,” I ground out.
Daisy glanced back again and opened her mouth to call me out but I shot her such a ferocious look that she snapped her jaws shut again and turned to face the receptionist. I squared my shoulders. I just wanted to get questioning Emerson over with and get out of this place.
26
EMERSON WATTS
I squirmed in my chair as I sat beside Peter and Daisy. The dog took a chair so that she could see over the conference table, across from my old boss, Emerson Watts. I dipped my chin toward my chest and let my hair fall forward, hiding my face. I swiveled back and forth in agitation, my arms hugged tight across my middle.
Peter cast me an uneasy glance, then leaned forward and addressed Emerson. “Thank you, Mr. Watts, for agreeing to see us. We realize you’re a busy man.”
I looked between strands of hair at the portly older gentleman. His bushy brows were whiter than when I’d worked for him, and his jowls more quivery, but his dark eyes still held the same cunning glint. He smoothed down the front of his impeccably tailored suit and flashed Peter a bright smile.
“Of course, Officer Flint.” He spread his spotted hands. “We here at Watts, Baker & Low are friends of the police department. How can we help you? Need representation?” He chuckled.
He’d barely spared me a glance. I apparently looked so different he didn’t recognize me—or he’d already forgotten me. Peter and Daisy, on the other hand, kept shooting me nervous looks. I guessed my agitated swiveling and hiding behind my hair was putting them on edge—weird.
Peter cleared his throat. “Actually, Mr. Watts, we’re here to ask you a few questions about your son, Jacob.”
I thought back to my time at the firm. Back then, Jacob had been a reckless teenager, which would now put him in his early twenties probably. Rumors had circulated the office that he was a thorn in Emerson’s side, always getting into scrapes, but that the old man still had hopes the kid would someday take over the family business.
Emerson froze, just a half second of unease, before he winked. “Well, then, should I call my lawyer?” He rocked back in his chair, chuckling. “Ah, just kidding. Ask away, officer, I’m here to help.” His words and his smile were all charm, but those hard, dark eyes bored into Peter.
Peter laced his hands together on the gleaming wood conference table. We were the only ones in the room, the rest of the seats at the long table empty. “A witness, Gregor Caron, was going to testify against your son. He alleged that Jacob crashed his airship into a warehouse at the docks several months ago. The crash started a fire that killed two men who’d been working inside. Did you—”
Emerson cut him off. “Perhaps you didn’t see in the file, officer?” His impossibly white teeth gleamed off the bright sunlight streaming in from the window. “Jacob reported the airship stolen earlier that evening, before the crash.”
Daisy growled. Lies.
Peter glanced at his dog, then licked his lips. “Gregor Caron ran over to help after the fire broke out. He said he could identify Jacob as fleeing the scene.”
I bounced my foot furiously and glared at my old boss through my hair. The boss I’d worked myself half to death to impress for years, and who’d fired me on the spot as soon as he found out I was a shifter. People like Eve and Emerson—they thought people like me, like those warehouse workers who’d lost their lives, didn’t count for anything.
Emerson’s smarmy smile faded, and his fleshy cheeks grew red and blotchy. “Gregor Caron… I believe that’s the same witness who brutally attacked Office Evan Davies, the deceased Officer of the Year, yes?” He leaned back and scoffed. “I hardly think the testimony of a man so clearly violent and mad as to attack an officer can be counted as reliable.”
Daisy bared her teeth and snarled. He’s lying.
I couldn’t hold back any
