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“They’re right,” Jesse said, patting his nephew’s knee, even as his chest tightened. “You’re the best kid anyone could ask for.”
“But I wanted a sister.”
“Oh, mate.” Jesse put his arm around Oliver’s shoulders and drew him close. The boy buried his face into Jesse’s chest and clung tight but didn’t make a noise. “I’m sorry, lad. I really am. But your folks are right. And you got lots of friends at school, haven’t you? That’s almost as good.”
Oliver rubbed his face into Jesse’s coat. Jesse grimaced and searched in Oliver’s backpack for tissues. He made Oliver sit up so he could wipe his face. When Jesse had finished cleaning off the chocolate and mucus, he looked brighter.
“What about a cousin, Uncle Jesse?” he ventured. “I could have a cousin one day, couldn’t I? If you have kids?”
Jesse blanched. “Uh, that’s a little harder for me than most guys, mate.”
“I know you have boyfriends and not girlfriends,” Oliver said with a frank look. “Mum explained everything. That guy Glen… He was your boyfriend, wasn’t he?”
Jesse flinched. “A while ago…yeah.”
“He talked about you guys having kids once. I remember. He said that you might adopt or whatever.”
The chocolate and banana waffle Jesse had consumed threatened to return up his throat. “That’s…complicated.”
“But you could get a boyfriend easy,” Oliver prompted. “And they can’t stop you adopting just because you’re both boys. Mum said so.”
“That’s not the only thing they look at, mate,” Jesse said helplessly. “They look at your history, your job…”
“But you have a job now,” Oliver said excitedly. “And you told Dad you’re gonna be good from now on. I heard you.”
“You really gotta stop eavesdropping,” Jesse said, rubbing his hand over his face. “This… Ah, I can’t even explain.”
“But it’spossible, right, Uncle Jesse? One day youmighthave a kid?”
Jesse heaved a big sigh and made himself meet his nephew’s hopeful eyes. “You never know, mate,” he said. “You never know.”
Oliver beamed. “That’s all I want for Christmas, Uncle Jesse. Theonlything I want.”
“Jesus, way to put a deadline on me, lad.”
Jesse forced a smile and allowed himself to be dragged toward a carol service tent. He tried very hard to listen to the singing and smell the mulled wine and mince pies and not think about the fact that he could see the sign for Ivor, Harrison & Associates through the door.
* * * *
“We’ll be waiting here,” Greenway said in a low voice as Jesse got out of the car. “You have one hour.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Jesse muttered, putting on his gloves and trying to push the conversation with Olly from his mind.
“Sure you’re up to this?”
Jesse gave Greenway a look. “Just be ready, lady.”
Greenway lifted an eyebrow. Jesse yanked up his hood and slunk down the alley. It was dark and smelled like piss and rubbish. He swore to himself as he stepped over spilled trash and hauled himself onto one of the overstuffed bins. It wobbled alarmingly under his weight. He grabbed the window ledge over his head to steady himself. His heart was clamoring. His palms were sweating.
He pulled out his phone, cursing Trixy, Magnusson, Ivor, Harrison and everyone else he could think of as he waved it until it flashed red where a sensor wire ran on the inside of the window frame. He loaded his custom scrambling app and activated it. The glowing red wire flickered then went dark. He sent up a prayer, stuck a knife into the gap where the wooden frame had warped and jimmied the window until it lifted with a grind of protesting wood.
He held his breath.No alarms. No flashing lights. He let out a breath, grabbed the windowsill and heaved himself through.
He fell onto a thin carpet with a curse and a bloom of pain in his hip. He swore and fumbled blindly for his head torch. The beam fell on desks, computers and filing cabinets. He grabbed a chair and hauled himself upright with more muttered curses.
“Getting too old for this shit,” he growled to himself as he sat at the nearest desk.
He booted up the computer, stuck a thumb drive into a spare port and began trying passwords. He was into the terminal in seconds—the legal secretary had used his girlfriend’s name and birthday as a password, both of which Jesse had found on social media—and quickly found his way into the company’s case files. He entered the case number but got no hits. He frowned, tried a system-wide search instead, but still, nothing.
