LACHLAN DIDN’T APOLOGIZE for calling Steeple. And he told her straight out he’d gone to Connel the previous night. So she got to read him the riot act for that without revealing her eavesdropping. Thank God for his honesty, otherwise she may not have been able to work that in.
Her sibling issues weren’t anything to lose sleep over. As her father put it, they were always standing in front of each other. She wasn’t surprised her brother wanted to look out for her.
Yeah, she was pissed he went behind her back, twice, but she might have done the same thing if their roles were reversed.
The police records she’d spent the day submerged in were both enlightening and mystifying.
Still scribbling her notes as she ascended the stairs, she needed to get everything in some semblance of order and—
“Sersha.”
She stopped and raised her head. The echo of her father’s voice was difficult to mistake.
“Dad?” she asked, continuing toward the stairwell landing where he waited. “What are you—” she paused. “Did Lachlan call you?”
“No,” he said. “I called him and he mentioned you were here. Would you like to get dinner?”
“Have dinner?” she asked, coming to a stop in front of him. “That would be two meals in one week. Is one of us dying?”
“Can’t a father take his daughter out sometimes?”
“Yes,” she said, suspicious. “But I know you, Dad. There’s a reason behind the invitation.” He’d sought her out; this was no coincidence. “Be direct, Dad. You’re good at direct.”
On an exhale, he lost his smile and took her elbow to direct her into the corner. “Lachlan said you’re working with the McDades.”
“Yes,” she said, hugging her notes to her chest. “So?”
“It’s dangerous.”
“I know,” she said. “Lachlan’s got you covered there.”
“I am concerned for your safety, but…”
“But…? What?”
“Do you have access that law enforcement doesn’t?”
Her brow dropped again. “I don’t understand.”
“McDade. Ire. He runs the family.”
“I know.”
“He runs this city.”
She smiled. “Grandpapa might object to that claim.”
“You’re not naïve,” he said, impatient. “I didn’t raise you that way. Lachlan said you are shadowing McDade. What does shadowing mean? Do you sit in on meetings?”
Squirming, this was a line her family had never asked her to cross before.
“My job is not to spy,” she said. “I’m not a crime or undercover reporter.” Or a cop. “My job isn’t to scurry back with details. If I do that, I don’t get the access I need.”
“This is not negotiable,” he said, growing stern. “You cannot withhold incriminating information… if you do, you’re an accessory.”
Wow, the shock was visceral. “Are you threatening me?” she asked, tempted to push him away. “What the hell is going on?”
Her father did arrogant with the best of them. His pompous belief in his own righteousness meant more to him than his parental duty. But that truth didn’t usually manifest in such physical and intimidating form. Attempted intimidating anyway.
“We know about his manipulation.”
Terror spiked. “Whose manipulation?”
And had he seen the tape? Connel wouldn’t have… would he?
“McDade’s,” he said. “He’s manipulating city officials at the highest levels for his own gain.” Shit. He knew that? “This is nothing new. Crime and politics have a history in this city. In the country. There will always be corrupt elements in any…” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Just give me their names.”
Surprise jolted her. “What? Whose names?”
“The names of the people you’ve seen him associate with.” He gestured at the pad and laptop she held against her. “You can write them down if—”
“I’m not doing that,” she said. “I won’t do that.” His frown became a glare. “I won’t, Dad. No. My professional integrity won’t—”
“What about his professional integrity?” he snapped. “Is that the line he feeds you? That he has pride in what he does?”
“I don’t know why you’re so mad. I thought you knew better than to put me in this position. You never have before.”
“You may have crucial testimony for—”
“I won’t testify,” she said. “And you can’t ask me to, the ethical implications—”
“And what are the ethics behind people being ruined? Against the integrity of respect for your city.”
“It’s his city too,” she said. “No one wants to hurt the city.”
“No, just the people in it,” he said and stepped back. “I thought you were raised to do the right thing.”
“I do a lot of talking about the right thing,” she said. “It’s not the right thing to abuse someone’s trust. The purpose of my work isn’t to point fingers. It’s not about sneaking around and tying bows for the cops.”
“The cops protect you. They protect your city. Keep you from harm.”
It was difficult to contain her smile. The whole point of frequenting Stag in the first place was its safety.
“Do you think it will be safer for me if I drop a dime on Ire?”
“You will always be protected in this city,” he said. “Your brother, me, and your grandfather—”
“That doesn’t give me the right to screw people over. What I do requires access. If my subjects can’t trust me—”
“What happens when your city doesn’t trust you?”
He spun around to stalk a few paces and slammed a hand on the opposite wall. The harsh thud ricocheted off the concrete up the chimney of the stairwell.
“What is going on, Dad? If there’s something wrong…”
“There’s something wrong when my own daughter chooses scum over her family.”
“This is not my father asking,” she said, hoping to calm some of the strain in his voice. “You’re the superintendent and anything I tell you—”
“I am your father,” he said, coming back around to bear down on her. “No one needs to know about this conversation. You can give me the information in confidence. No one needs to know.”
“That won’t stand up in court.”
“No, but we’ll know who to focus on. Who our enemy is.”
“Ire has ears everywhere,” she said. “You can’t think anything I say to you, anything you say to others, will ever be confidential.”
“Is that a hint?” he asked, peering closer. “Are you saying those close to me are involved?”
This was peculiar. His edginess was almost… “You’re paranoid, Dad. I can’t tell you who to trust or who to doubt. But I won’t divulge anything shared with me in confidence.”
The growl of anger in his countenance snapped, and he turned to march away, tossing the corridor door out of his way to leave.
Well, she’d disappointed him. Nothing new there.