Page 68 of Avenging Devil: Part 1

“Yeah. Well, you know I was digging for info about a man called Duke and his links to Saffie Jones. Well, I kept those searches running in case anything else turned up. Forgot all about them if I’m honest. Woke up this morning and had two enquiries. One was an offer for information as to the whereabouts of one Sapphire Marshall with money attached. The other was from one of our brothers in Utah who asked what the fuck I thought I was doing.”

Utah?I shake my head. As for the other puzzling thing, I state, “I know fuck all about any Sapphire Marshall.”

“Saffie could be a shortening of Sapphire,” Dart suggests.Could it?

“People on the run often use names similar to their true ones as its less hard for them to fuck up.” Lost gives the information knowingly. Patsy, his wife, initially came to San Diego under witness protection, so he speaks from experience.

Token raises his chin. “Saffie’s not been in San Diego long, we know that. It sounds to me like she might have changed her name to get her rapist off her trail, but more than that, assumed a new identity as well. It was a fuckin’ good job. All her back history checked out as genuine. I never had any doubts about it.”

It takes a second for my brain to compute what he’s suggesting. Could Saffie be on the run? That might explain why she has no one to turn to. But that makes the suggestion anyone is trying to track her down extremely worrying. “Who was the fucker offering the money to find her?”

Token grimaces. “No fuckin’ idea, Brother. Anonymous contact.”

Lost taps the desk. “And leaving that aside, what we should be asking is why Utah’s got their panties in knots about us seeking info on her.”

Token snorts. “Other than the feds, Utah’s the only people I know who could construct a background which would stand up. I’ve got a gut feel they might have had a hand in moving her.”

“You made contact?” Grumbler asks Prez.

“No.” Lost shakes his head. “I wanted to know more on what we knew about her before I spoke to them. You know they sometimes work on government shit, and I wasn’t willing to give her up if we didn’t need to.”

“From what I’ve heard, the last thing that woman wants is the fuckin’ law on her back,” the VP says furiously. “She’s got enough to deal with as it is. I don’t give a shit what she might have done.”

“I tend to agree,” Prez states, then his eyes meet Grumbler’s. “Which is why I like to know what I’m dealing with before diving in.”

It’s a good reminder of how Lost works. He never does shit on impulse and always thinks first. Sometimes his level of planning drives us crazy, but it has saved our asses before.

But Utah knows something, and I want to get a hold on what. “I want to find out what info they have on her.” I fix my eyes on Prez. That she might have the law or other trouble after her could mean she needs my protection even more. “She’s scared of MCs. I don’t thinkshehas done anything wrong, but it is possible that the law might want her to testify or some such shit. Did she report her rape? Have they now found her rapist?” I know Token hadn’t found anything under the name we knew, but now we know that’s a fake one.

“She wasn’t moved by the feds,” Token stresses. “Else they’d know where to find her for her day in court.”

I doubt Saffie would want to face this Duke, not even across a courtroom. Not that she’d have the chance, as soon as I’ve eyes on the fucker, he’s dead. Even locked up, I’d find a way.

“Makes sense Utah’s involved with getting her relocated,” Dart states. “And why else would they make contact?”

Nodding, Lost takes the phone Token’s holding out to him, and places it on the table. “Guess it’s time we find out.”

“Prez.” I raise my hand, wiggling it frantically, making him pause from tapping in the number. “Don’t give her away. Not even to Utah.”

He shoots me awho the fuck do you think I am?look, then continues entering the digits.

Yeah, he’ll be cautious. He’s using a burner phone for a start, one that Token must have ensured is clean and can’t be traced or hacked into. Utah will soon know who he is and already know where we are, but not any other fucker. The alien number does mean the recipient doesn’t recognise the caller.

“Yeah?” a gruff, cautious, voice answers.

I’ve only met two of Utah’s members, Swift, their brother without a dick as we often refer to her, and Bolt, who’s got the most amazing prosthetic hand I’ve ever seen in my life and, as a fellow amputee, one which I’m jealous of. As such, I don’t recognise who’s picked up, but would place a bet this is a chat Prez to Prez.

“Lost here.”

“Lost, Brother. I’ve been waiting for you to get in touch. Seems that your man Token has touched on a nerve.”

With his eyes focused on me, Lost states, “Don’t understand how, Snatcher.”

“Hang on. Let me get Stormy in here. He’s the one dealing with this.”

Stormy?Hell, the last time his name was mentioned at church it was during discussions about whether we should kill him on sight. I’d heard he’d wrangled his way back into Utah’s good books, even getting the mother chapter prez, Drummer, to wipe the slate clean. A slate that had gotten very dirty in San Diego, when Stormy had taken the kill shot that should have been Lost’s, and which had erased an opportunity to find out whether his old lady, Patsy, was free from whoever was after her. It had all been fucked up. Our chapter has no love for Stormy.

Grumbler’s shooting Lost a look of disgust, but Lost shakes his head, holding up a finger, signalling we should wait before passing judgement.

---