“Two million,” Jameson countered with a grin. “Molly and Madison stay clear of Ashby interests other than Maddie’s friendship with Calvin and Ava Rose. Accept those terms, and I’m happy to be your first call.”
“We have plenty of cops on our payroll. One million, and you make sure there’s nothing that will allow Beck to come after Sadie or any other Ashby.” Jasper’s expression darkened, frustrated at the back and forth.
“As a rookie, no one is surprised if I ask questions or linger to hear what’s going on. Eager to prove myself and all that, you know.”
“One million,” Jasper repeated.
“No deal. Two million or I’ll tell Beck about this conversation, which will only make her believe she’s on the right track.”
“Stop. Listening to you go back and forth is giving me a fucking headache.”
Just because I’d quit the booze, thanks to Thomas riding my ass about it, didn’t mean a nice fat joint would hurt. I lit it and took a long, slow pull to relax my nerves.
“Jameson, I will double your request if you can find out what Beck thinks she has on me for the priest murders and retrieve it for me.”
Jameson whistled. “Four million? Consider me on the job.” He pushed out of his seat and extended a hand to me. “I’ll be in touch soon, Sadie.”
“I’m sure you will.”
His big hand engulfed mine, but it told me a lot about the young man. He was kind and gentle but capable thanks to growing up in a motorcycle gang. He would be worth every penny.
Jameson walked out with an easy stride and closed the door behind him before shooting one last grin Jasper’s way.
“That fucking guy is going to be a headache.”
“Only if you allow it, Jasper. He’s fine, and unlike most of the cops we pay, his goal is to keep his family safe. That means we can trust him.”
“Until we can’t,” he growled and poured another two fingers of Velvet Fire. “What else is on your mind, Ma?”
“Lucky Lopez. I’m going to take it over, transform the space and the Green Zone. I’ve been working on my plans all week, and I’m ready to start.”
“Fuck, Ma. You never quit do you?”
“Do I look like a fucking quitter?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Sadie
A knock sounded on the door to my bedroom, and I let out an anxious sigh. “What is it?”
The door opened, and Thomas peeked his head inside the room. “Are you decent?”
“Hardly ever,” I shot back with a smile. “What do you need, Thomas?”
I didn’t miss the flare of heat in his eyes, or the way he banked it quickly and pushed the door open. He stood tall in his black and gray pinstriped slacks and matching vest, looking like a proper gentleman instead of…whatever else he was to me. To the Ashby Organization. “Your lawyers are here.”
I glanced at the slender gold watch on my wrist, the one Cillian had given me just before he died. “Which ones?”
“All of them.”
Usually, it wasn’t a good sign when a gang of lawyers showed up, but they were all—for once—completely necessary. “Send in Andrew and his team first.”
Thomas nodded. “Your office?”
“Yes. Put the business lawyers in the dining room and have the housekeepers feed them. I want you in both meetings with me.”
Surprise flashed in his hazel eyes, but Thomas knew better than to comment on the request. “I’ll get them all settled and meet in your office.”
“Good. Thanks.”
“No problem. And Sadie?”
“Yes?”
He flashed a wide, knowing smile. “You’ve got this.”
I dipped my head to him as if I agreed, but at the moment, I didn’t feel nearly as confident as Thomas, which is why I wanted him in the meetings. I didn’t like feeling unsure; it wasn’t a feeling I was used to. At all. His confidence in me would build me up until I got over whatever the fuck was making me feel this way. “I do.”
The meeting with Andrew and his team took about an hour. “We need to work on a trial strategy, Sadie. We have to.” Andrew’s tone told me exactly how worried he was about this case going to trial.
“Do you know something I don’t, Andrew?”
He blinked. “No, but I win cases because I’m prepared for every eventuality.”
I smiled my agreement. “The only acceptable outcome is an acquittal, Andrew, so whatever strategy gets us there is the one I’ll approve. Got it?”
Andrew nodded, but I could see the frustration written all over his face. “That means a concrete alibi for you and an alternate theory.”
Jameson had four million reasons to make sure none of this ever saw the inside of a courtroom, but I couldn’t tell Andrew that. He was a lawyer, a shark of an attorney, but he still had ethics to guide him.
“Bonnie was a recovering drug addict, and Mueller was an undercover federal agent.” Thomas’ words brought silence over the room.