The detective nods. “Doesn’t mean we can’t have a conversation. People talk all the time. No reason he and I can’t exchange words.”
“But it does mean you may not be able to legally use whatever he says.”
“I’ll take my chances.” He motions with his chin to the door and the two other people leave. Once the door is closed tight behind them, he moves the conversation forward. “We haven’t been formally introduced. I’m Detective Jake Barlow, but you can call me Jake.”
Lowering himself to my level by the use of a first name. It’s meant to disarm me, make me comfortable, make me easy to read.
I hitch my thumbs in my pockets and lean against the mirrored wall across from him. Won’t make the mistake of underestimating him. The badge doesn’t mean this man isn’t a master of the con. Just means he cons people for the overall good. Reading people, sleight of hand, smoke and mirrors. Heading gang task forces means working people and working people well.
“I heard you know things about my father.”
“From who?”
&nb
sp; No reason to lie. “Skull.”
Jake nods like he understands everything I didn’t say. “Your grandfather aware you know things?”
“Yes.”
His eyebrows rise a fraction of an inch. That surprised him. “What’s he think about these things I hypothetically know?”
I shrug. “Believes they’re bull.”
“And what do you believe?”
My eyes snap to his and I’m trying to read him as hard as he’s trying to read me.
“I’m in here talking to you,” I say.
Jake loosens his tie. First time I’ve seen him do something like this. I’ve rattled him and that rattles me.
“Did Violet tell you what the Riot talked about with her when she was alone?” he asks.
My spine straightens. “I wasn’t talking about Violet.”
“No, you weren’t, but I am. Has she told you?”
Loaded question. Answering means either I’m aware the Riot did talk to her or that I also believe they said something to her.
“Want to talk like men, let’s talk like men,” he says. “Skull shouldn’t have known that I know, which means I got people who shouldn’t be talking—talking. I’m not going to lie. You just gave me a ton to work with and possibly saved my ass and my case. You don’t owe me this answer, but whether you believe it or not, I’m fighting for you two kids and I’m fighting hard. I’ve been doing this a long time and I know when people are hiding something from me and I also know when they’re scared. That girl you just kissed, she’s hiding something and she’s scared.”
I’m aware and I respect the hell out of him for being able to read someone he doesn’t know. “Is it true? About my father?”
“I can’t talk to you about this. The details you’re asking for are part of a working case.”
My body flinches with the impact of his nonanswer. Anyone else would think he’s not telling me a thing, but he just confirmed there’s something to be told. My father, on some level, was involved in the Riot. “How bad?”
Jake shakes his head and remains tight-lipped. I’m asking him to give me something, but he’s loyal to his job. For the first time, I appreciate Violet’s frustration with me and the club.
I push off the wall to leave and Jake calls out my name. I glance over my shoulder and he rolls his neck. “We had Violet’s car towed to the station after we found it. Took a ton of pictures, processed everything in an effort to help find you two. Our mechanic got the car started, but it didn’t sound good. We released the car to her mom and I know the club has guys who can work on it, but there’s this mechanic here in Louisville. He’s good. One of the best I’ve met. I think you should take the car there, meet him...talk to him. He might lead you to answers.”
Answers. “What’s his name?”
“Isaiah Walker. He works at a custom shop, Pro Performance, during the day. A couple of nights a week, he does side jobs at a run-down garage in the south end of town called Tom’s. Do yourself a favor and don’t tell him I sent you.”
I nod in the hopes he understands how much I appreciate this break. I go to turn the knob, but before I open the door, I say, “She hasn’t told me what happened when she was alone.”