Page 29 of Strider's Misstep

Everyone starts talking at once. As the questions fly at Data, I bang the gavel and keep knocking wood against wood until everyone shuts up. “Let the man fuckin’ speak,” I growl.

Data nods appreciatively at me and starts to explain. “Mayhem’s got searches that he can set up. They keep trawling on minimal data and then sift through the hits. All we knew was the name Frobisher, and that person was a grandmother.” He pauses to shake his head. “How Mayhem found a needle when we didn’t even know where the haystack was is a miracle, but we ought to be fuckin’ thankful he did.” Another break for breath. “Frobisher was the grandmother’s maiden name to make it more difficult. But the long and short of the matter is that Jasmine seems to be a Katrina James, who got married to a Barclay Aster. Just like in the book, Katrina’s father ate a bullet.” He glances at me. “But unlike in her story, it looks like Katrina was in the vicinity at the time, which led to the police investigating her for murder. The case was dropped when only his fingerprints were found on the gun.”

“She was in the vicinity?” I repeat, my eyes on Data. “You saying she fuckin’ saw him do it?” What she’d written in the book was bad enough, but this? It’s worse than I thought.

Data gives a shrug. “It’s highly likely. Or at least, she was the one who found him.”

Jesus.I wipe my hand over my face and concentrate on what Data is saying.

“Mayhem did some digging among his underground contacts. Seems Jasmine was married to Barclay to pay off Daddy’s debts and he was holding Daddy’s continuing existence over her head to keep her by his side. Then when Barclay didn’t get what he wanted from her—apparently he thought she was barren and couldn’t give him a child, he pimped her out to his friends.” My jaw drops. It had to have been Barclay’s fault. She’d fallen with me fast and despite precautions. But Data hasn’tfinished. “Daddy somehow learned what was happening and it didn’t settle well with him. Seems he thought taking his own life was the only way for her to get free.”

Exhaling a breath, I lean back, swallowing down the bile rising in my throat. I always wondered why a girl like Jasmine would be willing to whore herself out to a one-percent motorcycle club. Now, it hits me that she was used to her body being used and was prepared for that to continue if it kept her out of her ex’s clutches. “She came to us for protection.”

“Would have been a fuck of a lot better if she’d come clean and admitted who she was and who she was running from,” Shout growls.

Data’s shaking his head. I raise an eyebrow toward him. “Reckon she thought we wouldn’t have taken her in if we’d known. Barclay Aster is the fuckin’ mob.”

“And we’re Soulz!” Buzz slams his hand on the table.

Mex taps his fingers. “Is there anything really to worry about? Daddy, who owed the debt, is gone. Katrina, or Jasmine as we know her, has been here for three years. Presumably, this Barclay has moved on.”

Again, Data’s head moves from side to side. “Barclay was legitimately married to her. Word is he wants an heir and can’t get married until he can prove desertion, which has a few years to go yet. Also…” his voice trails off.

I grimace, interpreting the expression on his face. “And?” I don’t think I want to know the answer.

After pressing his lips together, Data opens them to explain. “I don’t think she realises it, but she was her daddy’s sole heir. He might have had debts when he died, but he was asset-rich, and on his death, those could be realised. Barclay still wants the money he’s owed. Mayhem says he’s found evidence that Barclay hasn’t stopped looking for her. And…” again, he pauses, but I don’t need to prompt him again. “Mayhem reckons he’sprobably got close to the same resources he has. Using the name Frobisher might be her downfall.”

I draw in breath. If this Barclay knows what we do…

“He’ll be waiting for her at Motorcycles, Mobsters and Mayhem?” Shotgun voices my thoughts aloud.

“Don’t think we can discount it, VP.”

I pick up the gavel, play with it, then slam it down. “Then we’re going to Dallas. We’ll be there in force. This Barclay will die before he gets his hands on Jasmine.”

Buzz stands up, leaning over the table, pressing down on it with both hands. He stares me straight in the eye. “And why should we fuckin’ bother?” he spits out. “Why pit the Soulz up against the mob?” He glances around the table. “Sure, we all like Jasmine, but she’s just a club girl, and not even one who many of us enjoyed.” His eyes come back to mine. “Tell us why we should put our lives on the line for this particular bitch?”

I get to my feet so fast my chair crashes onto the floor. Spittle flies out of my mouth as I tell him exactly how it is. “Because she’s fuckin’ mine!” I roar.

I’m not sure who starts the handclap, but in retrospect, I think it might have been Mex. But the sound of palms mashing together is repeated until it’s a cacophony that hurts my ears.

“‘Bout fuckin’ time, Prez,” Tequila shouts, banging his meaty palm down on the table and glaring until people lower their hands. “Now let’s formulate a plan to get our First Lady back where she needs to be.”

My old lady?Well, damn it, doesn’t that sound right? Something settles inside me as I admit that at last. Okay, so maybe after everything, she’ll take some persuading to throw in her lot with me, but I’ll do all I fucking can to persuade her. She’s no substitute for Anna. She’s got her own place in my heart.

It dawns on me that I might be free, but she’s not and won’t be until… “We need to get Barclay Aster out of the way.”

Shotgun raises and lowers his chin. “Doubt he’s going to sign divorce papers. She’s still married to him, and whether she knows it or not, she’s an heiress.”

“Is that an option?” Madman asks. “Look, Prez, you know we’ll have your back, but the mob’s not people to be trifled with. What if she agrees to give Barclay the money she owes? Maybe he’ll back off.”

Mex shakes his head. “Man like that won’t want to lose face. If he’s been chasing her tail for three years, he won’t let her off lightly.”

Madman’s suggestion was a good one, but like Mex, I doubt it will work. I hate to admit it, but for him, it’s cleaner if she dies, and then he’ll gain from her inheritance. And with his connections, I suspect he knows ways he’ll get away with it without her blood on his hands or her death being traced back to him.

Buzz clears his throat. “I think the question we should discuss is how we actually provide her cover.” I raise my chin toward him. From experience, I know my sergeant-at-arms has something to say, and I want to hear it. “We can go en masse to the signing event, but it’s not going to be easy for us to get close to her.”

“It’s not open to the public?” Shout asks.

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