Page 65 of Fairy Tale Lies
Jacob’s mouth dropped then slammed shut into a razor thin line. His hands clenched into fists.
O’Brien quickly stepped between the two men, facing his obnoxious partner. “I said enough Bill.”
Hostility clung to Jacob like a wet blanket, and, for ten long seconds, he stood stock-still. Taking a deep breath, he swooped down, snatching a discarded T-shirt. After putting it on, he leaned against the nearest wall, arms crossed, watching the two officers with open resentment.
O’Brien faced Jacob. “We got a call from Mrs. Silverstone reporting her husband’s Rolex was stolen. They assert they didn’t give nor loan it to you. We have a witness who claims they saw you wearing it. This is enough to bring you in and search your home.”
Jacob’s angry gaze jumped to Greta’s. “You didn’t tell your family you were taking it?”
“I wanted it to be a surprise.” She gaped.
He threw his arms in the air and let them fall, slamming to his sides. “Well, surprise!”
She folded into herself. His sarcasm was justified, and she waited for him to slam insults and accusations on her.
He didn’t. He took a deep breath and faced O’Brien. “Now what?”
“We have to take you in.” He turned to Greta. “However, if this is a simple mistake, perhaps you should call your parents. Get it straightened out, and soon.”
Blake was somehow entangled in this, but her mother had to have made the call. He didn’t have friends high enough in Petite Bois’s bureaucracy to have police officers called out late on a Friday night, a holiday weekend, no less, for a simple larceny arrest.
What a mess. One easily avoided had she bothered to mention the damn watch to her mom. Heck, told her about Jacob. All of this to avoid an unpleasant conversation with her mother. How stupid.
It ended tonight.
Smithson removed his handcuffs from his belt, and again O’Brien intervened. “Those aren’t necessary.” His gaze fell on Jacob. “Am I right, Mr. Grimm?”
He gave one sharp nod, locking gazes with Greta. The anger reflected in them chilled her bone deep.
Seconds later, the two officers were escorting Jacob down the stairs and through the hallway, passing by his stunned father and brother. Smithson opened the front door, and it broke Greta’s paralysis.
She sprinted after, calling to Jacob, “I’m sorry. I promise to fix this.”
He didn’t respond or even glance in her direction. Instead, he turned to Will. “Call my lawyer. Have her meet me at the police station.”
Without another word, the two officers directed Jacob from his home and into their police car.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Watching the scenery pass by, Jacob figured they were halfway to Petite Bois. He had a million questions whirling around in his head but kept his mouth shut. If he opened it, he’d say something stupid and make his situation worse.
Fucking Blake.
Jacob recalled the weasel’s expression when he spotted the watch during lunch with Greta last week. The asshole had orchestrated this mess. Though, how the shit he convinced Greta’s parents was beyond him.
The pudgy cop, Smithson, twisted around, wearing an expression full of contempt. Jacob gave an inward groan. Whatever was about to spew from the prick’s mouth was going to be ugly.
“Tell me, Mr. Grimm, what was more satisfying? Getting your hands on Mr. Silverstone’s Rolex or his stepdaughter?”
“Fuck off, dickweed,” Jacob snapped, both angry and bewildered.
What is it with this guy?
“Stop antagonizing.” O’Brien sighed, glancing briefly from the road to his partner. “I get you had a thing for Greta in high school, and she was never interested. That doesn’t mean you have to start shit.”
Color flooded Smithson’s jowls, and he whipped back around, staring straight ahead. “Whatever. I was making conversation with the River Rat,” he muttered.
That explains a lot. Seriously, does everyone in her freaky city know each other?
