Page 64 of Fairy Tale Lies
His words and tender kisses made Greta’s heart soar.
Someone’s fist pounded on the loft’s door, and her heart continued its flight straight into her throat. She jerked, and Jacob’s arms tightened protectively around her.
“Go away!” he hollered in the direction of the offending door.
“There are…um…some guys here to see you,” Will called.
“What the fuck,” Jacob muttered, then asked her, “You want to use the bathroom to wash up?”
She nodded. He disposed of the condom and snagged his jeans, putting them on. “Tell them to go away too,” he shouted.
Greta eyed the knob and froze. There wasn’t a lock.
Her knees went weak, picturing strange, late-night visitors busting in the room. She wanted to run to the bathroom and hide, but being stuck in there naked if they came inside didn’t sound appealing. Scanning the room, she spotted her skirt and blouse, her bra and panties nowhere in sight.
Not good.
“I can assure you they won’t go away. They want to talk to you right now.” Will’s anxiety was palpable.
Fingers of dread crept along her spine. Anyone arriving at this hour and demanding to talk couldn’t be good.
Before either could ask who the unwelcome visitors were, heavy footsteps pounded up the stairs.More than one set!
Greta scrambled to put on what clothes she found. Jacob hurried to the bedroom door, clad only in his jeans.
He opened the door a crack, using his broad expanse to block anyone from entering. “Who the fuck—”
He choked on the rest of his words, his back going ramrod straight. She was about to ask who was on the other side when a man spoke, shocking Greta to the core.
“Jacob Grimm, I’m Officer O’Brien, and this is Officer Smithson. We need to ask you some questions. I have a warrant to search your home.”
“What?! Why?” Jacob stumbled back, sounding confused and stunned. It matched her plummeting heart and racing mind.
The men took it as an invitation to enter. Greta caught sight of their uniforms and dread bloomed in her chest. The two officers were from Petite Bois. She even recognized one of them. They’d gone to high school together. Tim O’Brien.
His gaze landed on her, widening in recognition before he averted his eyes, searching the room. The other officer, a man with a round face and small, mean features, was leering at her in a way that made her skin crawl. She crossed her arms over her braless chest and tried to ignore the man’s smirk.
Jacob came between her and the creepy cop, blocking her from view. “What’s this about?”
“Mr. Grimm, you are under suspicion for grand larceny,” O’Brien stated.
“Grand larceny?” Jacob echoed. “What the hell?”
O’Brien handed Jacob an official-looking form. “Here’s the warrant.” He pointed to the desk and spoke to the other police officer. “Smithson, gather that for evidence.”
She was flooded with horror when the officer grabbed Nigel’s Rolex. Her blood ran cold.This is somehow my fault.
“Don’t touch the watch. It’s mine!” Panic and anger battled for dominance within her.
A nasty smirk tugged at Smithson’s small mouth. He peered from Jacob to Greta to the floor littered with items they’d knocked aside during their feverish lovemaking. “Thanks for not shoving the evidence off the table, while you were—”
“Enough,” O’Brien cut in.
The other officer’s offensive manner wasn’t her concern. The allegations leveled at Jacob had her attention. “What evidence? The watch is my stepfather’s, and it’s not stolen. Jacob is repairing it.”
Once again Smithson ignored her and instead goaded Jacob. “Tell me, Mr. Grimm. When you decide to go into a rich man’s home, you go for everything, don’t you? An expensive watch wasn’t enough? You had to take his daughter too, huh?”
What is this guy’s problem?
