Page 27 of Striker

The line goes quiet for so long that I begin to wonder if she hung up on me. I say her name to make sure she’s still there. “Beth? Are you still on the line?”

“Yeah, I remember him. He’s the one you want.” Her voice is a strange mixture of fear, alarm and anxiety. “Striker, listen closely. I remember my boss dealt with him directly. They were both very secretive, and I never once saw a file on Keene or his company. I guess now we know why.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right, darlin’.”

“He’s the person who keeps track of every dollar and knows all their dirty deeds. It takes money to get anything done, so he knows everything.”

“How do you know he’s the one we want?”

“Because I was that person for Vale’s accounting business,” she replies. “I was the one who approved all the invoices, did payroll and reconciled every vendor invoice. It gave me amazing insight into how he ran his business. Which means whoever sits at the top of this guards that man like his own beating heart, because Keene’s the financial brain of the operation. If you get to Keene, you can pressure him to tell you everything.”

“Then we’ll grab him,” I say confidently.

“No. Listen to me for a minute. They will kill you before they let you get close to him. Don’t try to approach him on your own because they’ll circle the wagons and tie up the loose ends.”

“I don’t like the thought of ending up as a loose end,” I tell her. “But if we don’t start pulling people in and working our way up their chain of command, we’re never going to find out who’s at the top.”

“I get that, but we need to plan it out in advance and make sure we have enough backup.”

I can’t help but smile because she’s worried enough about me to think about backup.

“Alright, we’ll do this your way,” I tell her. “Make us some coffee and we’ll be home soon. Once we get there, we’ll do some brainstorming.”

I step back into the apartment and approach Richards, who is now completely dressed in jeans and a shirt. I assume Jinx got tired of seeing him running around in his underwear.

“I want you to forget we had this conversation. Don’t think about it, talk about it or tell anyone we were here. Got it? You keep addin’ money to Vale’s books and do exactly what Keene tells you to do. Keep your head down, and keep your mouth shut. I can’t stress that enough. If you hear anything else, you call my personal cell phone.” I fish a copy of my business card out of my wallet and give it to him. “Keep this somewhere safe and accessible.”

Jinx doesn’t say much as we walk out to the parking lot. At the county line, we hit a stoplight. He pulls up beside me and flips his visor up. “Do you think Richards is trustworthy or will he rat us out the first chance he gets?”

“I don’t know and I’m not sure it matters. If this blows back on the club, it’ll be worse for Vale and their organization than for us.”

He shakes his head, and there’s something close to respect in his eyes. “These assholes picked the wrong woman to mess with today, brother.” Jinx doesn’t know how right he is.

Back on the hill, Beth is waiting for us with coffee and a full breakfast. The whole house smells amazing. And suddenly, I’m starving.

I hear Josie’s little squealing voice the minute I’m in the house. She’s at the kitchen table rolling out dough. Although she’s making a mess, I can’t find it in me to care. I go over and give her a little hug before we sit down to eat.

I bring Beth up to speed on everything that happened with Richards. She listens intently, looking more worried about every new bit of information she learns. Drug dealers are dangerous folks, especially the ones wealthy enough to have a full-time money man. We are just beginning to understand how deep and dark this situation is, and it brings out my urge to protect through control. I already know women don’t like that. So, I’ve got a balancing act on my hands. I’ve got to keep them safe without driving them away. Nobody likes a control freak, I remind myself, least of all my Beth. She’s headstrong and independent, and she thinks she’s paying me for this gig. I can’t imagine taking money to keep her safe. That’s not something I would ever do in a million years.

Chapter 13

Beth

Striker just never seems to learn his lesson when it comes to Josie. He’s never going to win an argument with a two-year-old who relies upon kid reasoning. They’re as stubborn as each other and I don’t have to think very hard to figure out why. Like father, like daughter is the reason.

Josie likes to play the bunny hop game with his boots. She crams both feet into one of his big motorcycle boots and hops across the floor with her hands held out for balance. It’s a catastrophe waiting to happen. Those boots come all the way up her legs and are too heavy for her to hop around in, yet she persists in thinking it’s the greatest game ever.

I can hear Striker asking nicely, “I need to put my boots on, kid. You can play the bunny hop game when I get back.”

She replies in a sing-song between thumps, “Bunnies got to hop, hop, hop.”

“I tried to tell her to stay out of your boots,” I call through the doorway.

Striker calls back, “I’m already late for church.” He looks a little dumbfounded, standing there holding the other boot.

Striker mumbles, “Sorry about this, kiddo.” Then he bends down and tickles her before lifting her out of his boot. She just laughs, squeals and kicks her feet.

When he finally tries to put her down, Josie throws her arms around his neck and holds on for dear life. He leans over and lets her swing from his neck. Of course, she loves that game right up until she loses her grip and begins to fall. It’s okay because he catches her and tosses her onto the sofa before stepping into his boots and heading for the door.