I close my eyes briefly. “Dad.”
Dad ignores my warning completely, because he’s my father and therefore genetically incapable of leaving anything alone when he can turn it into strategy.
“Tell him,” he says, nodding at Locke.
I exhale. “It’s not a party trick.”
“No,” Dad says. “It’s a weapon. And right now, we need one.”
Locke looks from him to me. “What is?”
“Well,” I say. “I – I remember things."
Dad huffs. “She remembers everything. Documents. Numbers. License plates. Faces. Doesn’t matter. If she saw it, it stays in that pretty little head for-f*****g-ever.”
Locke’s gaze returns to mine, and there’s no mockery in it, only attention. “You memorized Knox’s documents today?”
I sigh. “Three properties. Two businesses. About two dozen bank accounts. A continuation agreement he want
