“I’m Jennifer Jacobs. Arthur Jacobs’s daughter.”
Arthur Jacobs was the CPD detective and ally my grandfather had mentioned. He’d actually been the cop who responded to Reed’s previous call.
“Did he send you?” I asked.
“He asked me to check in on you, make sure you’re all right. I’m an attorney,” she said, checking her phone when it buzzed, then sliding it back into a slim pocket on the side of her purse. “Not your attorney. I’m not offering you representation, nor am I representing you with respect to any criminal complaint that Adrien Reed may file. I’m just doing my father a favor.”
A favor, by her tone and lengthy disclaimer, that she wasn’t thrilled about. But since she was here, I could be gracious.
“Then thanks to you both. It’s nice to meet you, if under these circumstances.”
Jennifer didn’t respond, but took a good look at me, then linked her hands on the table.
“I’m going to tell you something, Merit,” she said, her gaze direct. “My father is a good cop. A good father and a good cop. He doesn’t need trouble.”
I was getting tired of this speech. “We haven’t brought him any trouble.”
“All evidence to the contrary.” She sat back in the chair, crossed one leg over the other. “He has some kind of affinity for supernaturals, probably because he’s friends with Chuck Merit. He should be captain right now. Was close to it, until he began involving himself in supernatural affairs.”
“In my eyes, that’s something to respect him for.”
“In my eyes, it’s something that could get him killed.”
And there it was. I sympathized, but I was sick of taking undeserved blame.
“We’re not troublemakers, although our enemies enjoy painting us that way. They also enjoy targeting us because of who we are, because we’re different. I have a great deal of respect for your father, because he understands that. I’m sorry you have to worry for him. I worry for my grandfather. But their involvement is their choice.”
“You’re frank,” she said.
“I don’t see the point of not being frank.” My voice softened, considering what her family had recently been through. “I’m very sorry about your brother. I understand he was a wonderful young man.”
Her brother, Brett, had been targeted by a serial killer whose latent crazy had been triggered by unrequited love.
Jennifer’s expression tightened. “That should help you understand my concern.”
“I understand it, but I didn’t cause it, and I’m not sure what you think I could possibly do about it.”
“Don’t involve him in your troublemaking.”
I linked my hands on the table, leaned forward. “Ms. Jacobs, I don’t know you. I don’t know your father very well, but like I said, I respect him. His intelligence, his sense of fairness, and his ability to think critically about supernaturals. I would suggest you spend a little less time accusing vampires and a little more time listening to what he actually has to say. Your attitude? It’s exactly what he’s fighting against.”
Her eyes flashed. “I’m not concerned about your people. I’m concerned with mine, as they aren’t immortal. Stay away from my father, and we won’t have any problems.”
She rose, slipping her handbag over her arm before grabbing the notebook. “I’ll advise my father that conditions here are fine, and you’re awaiting your attorney’s arrival. That should fulfill my part of the bargain.”
She walked to the door, glanced back. “Stay away from him.”
And with that, she walked out.
Much like the flowers at the Botanic Garden, nourished by the warmth of spring, our list of enemies was growing.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN