Adrian exhaled through his nose. “Fine. Bring them to me. But if this turns into something bigger, I’m not saving you from your own decisions.” Jack almost laughed. “Wouldn’t ask you to.” He hung up and stood there for a moment with the phone still in his hand. Then he went upstairs. Rosalind’s hairbrush was on the dresser. He looked at it for a long second.
Then plucked a strand from the bristles and slipped it into a folded tissue. His hands were steady. That scared him more than if they’d shaken. Three days later, Adrian called. Jack was in his office at the warehouse when his phone buzzed. He answered immediately. “Well?” he said. Adrian didn’t waste time. “It’s not her.” Jack closed his eyes.