Page 68 of Jacob

“How long will it take to check through the footage?” I ask with force.

“It will be tomorrow before anyone can look at it, then they need to write the report, maybe another day for that,” the police officer replies.

I shoot to my feet, pulling my phone out of my pocket. “Days? That’s too long,” I rage.

Fuck this. I’m hiring a private investigator.

Storming into the hallway, I call my dad.

He answers straightaway. “Any news?”

“No. I need your help.” My words are frantic now. “What is that friend of yours called, the PI that helped find the schoolgirlthat went missing in the city? The one that was all over the news? Do you have his contact details?”

“I do, but Jay, you need to let the police do their job.”

I fling my free arm to the heavens above. “No, I don’t, Dad. They won’t do anything for twenty-four hours and it’s going to take two days—that’s forty-eight hours—to check through the CCTV and write a report. They aren’t taking what we are saying seriously. We need someone on itnowand I’m willing to pay… anything. I’ll never forgive myself if something has happened to her.” I cover my mouth to hold back the bile I feel rising in my throat. “What if we don’t find her?” Feeling empty, hope seeps from my body, the weight of my words stabbing through my heart.

My gaze lands on a photograph of Skye. I pick up the picture frame and take every inch of her in. Looking back over her shoulder, it looks like this was caught in an innocently candid moment. Full-on wide smile, her crystal-blue eyes shine down the camera.

“We have to find her, Dad,” I whisper.

For a moment he goes quiet, then he finally says, “His name is Walter Forrester. Ex-Special Forces. Tell him you’re my son. I’m sending you his contact details now.”

“Thank you.” I feel slightly relieved that he might be able to help us.

My father lowers his voice. “Can I ask you something, Jay?”

“Anything.”

“Are you and Skye?—”

I don’t let him finish. “I’m in love with her.”

“I’ll pay for Walter. Tell him to do whatever it takes.”

My eyes blur with tears. “Thank you.”

“Go find your girl and keep me informed. I want to know everything.” He hangs up.

I open his contact details and dial Walter immediately.

When he takes my call, I move into the kitchen to fill him in. I don’t leave out any of the details. From the suspected bedroom break-in, Jules’ social media comments, the lies about his gender, the coffee shop meeting, his website disappearing, and the local arts group. Without hesitation, he agrees to meet me in an hour at the exact coffee shop where Skye was last seen.

When I hang up, exhausted from going through it all again, I leave the kitchen just as Detective Becket steps into the hallway. Her hawk-like eyes narrow as she says, “Just a heads-up,if…”

If… is she fucking messing with me? There is no doubt about it. Skye is missing. I’m so fucking glad I decided to get a PI involved.

Detective Fuckfacecontinues, “If we do have to escalate the missing persons’ report, we may need to check all of Skye’s digital devices. Including her work computer and emails.”

“Call me and I will have the IT department give you full access.”

The detective looks back over her shoulder and then back at me again. Lowering her tone, she says, “Is there anything I should be made aware of Mr. Baxter—forgive me—Jacob?”

Unsure about what she means, I ask, “Like?”

“For instance. The relationship between you and Skye? Is it strictly business? Or…”

“We went to school together. She’s my best friend’s ex. She’s worked with me for years. She’s like family to me.” I’m not telling this woman, who is too calm, and who shows no tenderness in her eyes, fuck all. Yet.

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