Rhoan grunted. It wasn't a happy sound. "I won't tell you not to talk to Logan's secretary, because you'll just go ahead and do it anyway. But I do expect you to keep me up-to-date with what—if anything—you discover. Because believe me, if I find out you're keeping stuff back, I will throw your asses in jail until this is all over. And not even my sister will get you out of it."
I knew an ultimatum when I heard one, so I simply nodded. He continued to eye me for several seconds, then stepped to one side and allowed us to pass.
"Well," Jak said, once we were clear of the house and walking back to our cars, "that was intense."
"Yep. And he was deadly serious about throwing us in jail."
"I gathered that, so keep the man updated, for Christ's sake."
I flashed him a grin. "What? You don't fancy cooling your heels in jail with me?"
"Sorry, no. I've been in jail once when I ignored a judge's ‘no-print' order." He shuddered briefly. "I don't care to repeat the experience—even with you."
I snorted softly. "Do you think you can use your wily press ways to uncover where the secretary lives?"
"That isn't even a challenge for a reporter as good as me."
I rolled my eyes and leaned my butt against the side of his car while he made several phone calls. Eventually he turned and said, "Okay, she lives in a town house in Doncaster—you want to come with me?"
I shook my head. "It'll save you driving me back here."
"I wouldn't mind—"
"I would. You and me trapped in a small car is not a good idea."
"You don't trust me? I'm mortified."
"A statement that would be more believable if you didn't have that smirk on your face." I pushed away from the car. "Just give me the address and I'll meet you there."