Her fingers danced across the keyboard and the words began to flow freely. Only briefly did the voice in the back of her mind distract her briefly with horrifying assertions—if you print this, the Black Skulls will kill Asa, you have to turn the video evidence over to the police before you turn in your article or else you’ll be considered an accomplice, you might as well put a bullet in the back of Asa’s head yourself because that’s what writing this article will amount to his death. He trusts you. He tried to save you…to his own detriment.
When tears welled in her eyes, she rubbed them with the heels of her hands and kept going. At times, she wasn’t so much breathing as sniffling, but she pressed on, writing and rewriting what would surely become the most groundbreaking article the Las Vegas Post has ever seen. She must have entered some kind of trance as she wrote, because before she knew it, the room was brightening with the warm, amber light of dawn.
She had just reworked the final paragraph of her article three times and it was now perfect... not just perfect, riveting. After hitting the save button, she stretched her neck and once again remembered that Asa Boone wasn’t merely a suspect in a long-ago murder. He was someone she happened to love.
“Oh, God,” she cringed as if she could force her heart out of her head.
She reminded herself that Asa hadn’t just killed a man ten years ago. He had killed one last night for fuck’s sake, and she would be a fool to believe those were the only two instances. Killing was what he did. He wasn’t just some kind of dead-sexy, dangerous bad boy. He was a downright monster! But on some level, if only deep down, wouldn’t Samantha like to kill a man who was beating his girlfriend?
She had seen it all—the escalating argument through the curtains of that trailer, the drunken man’s flying fists—and she had heard the screams and the terror in that poor woman’s voice.
Rounding the same bend of her dilemma that she had been wrestling with over and over again all night, she flipped her laptop shut and told herself she needed a long shower and at least three cups of coffee, and just as she was about to get a jump on it to clear her head, her cell phone began vibrating against the comforter.
“Shit,” she grumbled, seeing Harry Walsh’s office number flash across the LCD screen. She couldn’t get away with ignoring his call, not when she hadn’t spoken with him since before attending the construction site press conference. She wasn’t looking forward to getting chewed out, but she accepted the call anyway, doing what she could to sound upbeat and chipper. “Surprised I’m awake?”
“Where the fuck is your full article? I should have had five thousand words in my inbox waiting for me when I got in."
“Give me a minute and-”
“I’m not giving you shit, Samantha! You’re really screwing me here! I’m driving down.” She heard the finality in his voice. He had already decided to fire her. If she gave him the article that she had just written he would give her a raise and maybe even a fucking medal. She needed more time. She needed to talk to Asa first.
“Henry don’t come here, okay. Things have gotten really complicated. I’ll come there this…”
“No Samantha. No. I’m fucking done begging you to do your fucking job. I’ll be there before noon and I’ll do this fucking job myself. I want whatever you have if you want your last paycheck.”
Her last paycheck. She was about to lose the job that she had dreamt of since she was five years old. Being a journalist was going to save her from the shitty life she’d had as a kid…and it had, for a while. But if Harry fired her she would never be able to get a job as a serious reporter anywhere in Nevada. Harry’s reach was far and wide. She felt her career dying as the voice inside her head whispered, just fucking say it, Samantha! Tell him what you know. Tell him you wrote the article. Fucking save yourself…It’s your dream to be a renowned journalist! It’ll come true if you just tell him what you know! And then Asa’s life will be over and so will any chance that she might have to ever be with him again.
“Listen, Harry, I can’t think straight right now. I haven’t slept all night, but I’ve got something, but I need some time.”
“Listen to me,” he said slowly, enunciating each word carefully like she was deaf or an idiot. “I’m telling you, one last time…I gave you a shot at this and now I’m driving down to Death Falls to do your job for you. If you want to stop me, then you’ll stop this bullshit and just fucking tell me the story you’re sitting on, already.” He paused, giving her ample time to reveal the big discovery she had alluded to, but she wasn’t ready to do that. She doubted that she’d never be ready. She could not ruin Asa. She knew that. She just had to figure out how not to ruin herself while saving him. “I’ll see you in the diner around noon,” he said in a disappointed tone. “I’ll call you when I’m in the heart of Death Falls.”
When the line cut out, Samantha let her cell phone slip from her fingers. She felt paralyzed with indecision and was starting to hate herself for it. And though she kept mentally screaming at herself to call Harry back, email her article, take the accolades she had coming to her and the promotion that would be in store, Asa’s face kept seeping into the forefront of her mind.
She startled when someone pounded on her motel door. Swallowing hard, she stared at the locked door for a long time, watching it jump in its frame under the force of their pounding fist. She had expected this all night long. Whether it was Rodney or Kyle or Asa himself on the other side of that door, the second she opened it she would be in the worst danger of her life. Quickly, she tucked her laptop under the bed, pocketed her cell phone into her brown, leather skirt—God, how was she still wearing this thing?—and neared the door gingerly.
“Who is it?” she called out with her ear to the door, her fingers on the lock, her heart punching up her throat all the while. There was no answer. The pounding had stopped as well, but she hadn’t heard footfall, which meant that whoever they were, they were still out there. Should she call the police? No sooner than she questioned the option, she realized she was unlocking the door, a single-minded hope at the forefront of her mind. And when she drew the door inward, her hope came true.
Asa was standing on the other side.
He didn’t look furious or as though he was ready to rip her limb from limb. His face was long and his eyes were wide, an indication that perhaps he was more interested in learning what she thought of him now than he was of informing her what she ought to think.
“Can I come in?” he asked after they had stared at each other for a speechless moment. She meant to say, “Sure,” but it sounded like she had simply cleared her throat. At least she managed to step aside gracefully. She shut the door once he had entered her room. He was standing so close. She could reach out and take hold of his arm if she wanted. Would she want that with him anymore? Could she ever overlook the truth of what he was—a killer? Could she love a killer? What did that make her if she did?
When he abruptly faced her, she startled.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he assured her.
“But you know that I know that...”
“Yeah,” he said so she wouldn’t have to finish her point and state the ugly truth out loud. “I know that you know. And you know the stakes. You know what will happen to me if you write everything you know in an article if you go to the police with what you have.”
She paced towards the nightstand, wringing her hands and wishing that her journalistic dreams coming true didn’t have to feel like a nightmare. When she turned on her heel to start pacing in the direction she had come, Asa was right there to gently grab her shoulders.
“My life is in your hands,” he whispered, as he began kneading her shoulders.
“Not just mine Asa. What about Kyle? He was following me. I don’t think he was close enough to hear what was being said but I’m sure he saw you…” she couldn’t finish that sentence. She couldn’t say “kill” that man out loud. God, his hands felt good. She was melting under his strong y
et tender touch.
“I can handle Kyle,” he said. She hated that she wondered what he meant by “handle.” Look, Sam, I could stand here before you and try to justify all the things I’ve done. I could try to convince you that it was all necessary, maybe even the right thing to do, but you already have all the facts. You’re smart. I don’t need to tell you anything. And I don’t want you to have to choose between your career and me... in fact, I hate it that you have to choose. But this is my life, Samantha so I have to know what you’re going to do so that I know what I have to do.”
“What do you mean by what you have to do?”
“If you have any notion in your head that I would ever hurt you or let anyone else hurt you Samantha…you can get rid of that right now. But I won’t go to prison. If you’re going to publish that article and give that video to the police then I have to go…”
“Go where?” her voice cracked.
“Anywhere but here. Anywhere that I can start over. Baby, I’m no saint…but Johnny was hurting a child. He was scarring her for life. Andy was going to kill Molly sooner or later…”
“How many others Asa? How many other people have you killed? Since before you could ride?”
He shook his head slowly. “You know who I am, Samantha. You know what kinds of things I’ve done. I’m not going to give you details. The ball is in your court, Sam. My life is in your hands, literally.”
Samantha couldn’t think straight as she looked into his dark eyes. She found herself wanting to fall into his arms and ride off into the sunset with him on his Harley…but that wasn’t realistic, was it? What she needed to do was come up with a solution that was realistic. Her thoughts went back once again to the girl and the woman that had been saved from horrible men because of what Asa did. She was sure those weren’t the only two kills Asa was responsible for…but considering the people he dealt with…shit! Was it okay to justify murder because maybe they “deserved” it? Shit.
“Asa, I need some time. I need to figure this out.”
Surprising her he nodded. He let his hands slip from her shoulders down to her waist and he pulled her in and kissed her softly on the lips. She couldn’t hold back the tears any longer and he brushed his cheek up against hers and wiped them away. “Take your time,” he whispered. “But please believe me when I tell you that no matter what happens and no matter what you decide, I will never hurt you and I will never let anyone else hurt you. I love you, Samantha Wilde.” She clutched onto his shirt and pulled his lips back to hers. She pressed them together, hard and then before she completely lost control she pulled away and turned and ran into the bathroom and slammed the door. It was a few minutes later when she heard his footsteps and the motel door open and close behind him. She had her back to the door and she slid down to the floor and sobbed into her hands hysterically.
Chapter Fourteen
Samantha spent an hour on the phone with her contact at the police station. He wasn’t crazy about giving her the information she was asking for. He warned her about the Black Skulls and how dangerous they were. He told her that she could get herself in trouble for interfering in an on-going investigation. He tried to cajole what she knew out of her because his own case was at something of a standstill. She was relentless in her pursuit of information and before she ended the call she had found out several important things. The first one was that the coroner determined from the bones that Johnny most likely died of a gunshot wound to the head since he had a big hole in his head. That was all they could determine, however. There was no bullet, no weapon and ten years later no one was talking, still. The only clue the police had was the phone in Johnny’s boot with the last call in from Asa Boone. Since Johnny and Asa were both members of the Black Skulls that call could have been about anything. Her friend had no clue about her relationship with Asa and he told her in exasperated confidence that it was highly unlikely that they would ever have enough to make an arrest unless someone came forward as an eyewitness.
Samantha asked him about the girl, Johnny’s step-daughter.
“Was she ever interviewed…or her mother?”
“After Johnny disappeared ten years ago there were a lot of rumors about what was going on in that house. The police talked to her and her mother. The girl seemed glad he was gone but she would never confirm the accusations that he was molesting her. The mother was a drunk who was probably getting money from the club to keep her mouth shut about all of it. She wouldn’t cooperate with the police at all. Johnny was a bad dude and other than his club nobody really cared that he was gone so it all got dropped pretty quickly.”
“So what about since the bones were found?”
“We went back. Johnny’s old lady died five years ago of a drug overdose. The girl was married to a drunk of her own. He left her about a year ago for one of the MC club groupies and he lives over in Henderson now. We talked to them. The ex-husband of the girl claims all he ever heard about Johnny was that he disappeared and the club had supported the drunk woman and her kid until the woman started taking advantage of their generosity and demanding more money. He implied that she was threatened by someone in the club but he wouldn’t get specific about it. The girl, grown now with kids of her own didn’t want any part of it at all. All she would say was that she was glad Johnny Fox was dead because he was a mean son of a bitch, but she couldn’t or wouldn’t offer any details as to how he died. I’m not sure where if anywhere this case is going to go Sam, but I need you to promise me I won’t read anything I told you in print…at least until I tell you it’s okay.”
She promised him that. Nothing he told her would make a great story anyways. It was more speculation and they already had plenty of that. What she was looking for was redemption for the man that she loved because she couldn’t have both him and her career otherwise. She thanked her friend and now another hour later she stood on the crooked front porch of a trailer house. It looked a little different in the light of day since the last time she saw it…sadder actually, except for the brand new door. Jared and Asa had been busy last night. Maybe that explains why Asa didn’t show up at the motel until this morning. Samantha glanced over her shoulder at Kyle. He didn’t even try and hide the fact that he was still watching her. She wondered how much longer they’d give her before they pulled her back in and demanded that she give them something. She had a plan. She just hoped that she would have time to pull it all together before the club or the police stopped her.
She turned back toward the door and raised her hand to knock. She waited for a really long time, or at least what felt like a long time and she knocked again louder this time.
“What?”
“Molly? My name is Samantha. I’m a friend of Asa Boone’s. Can I talk to you, please?”
“No. Go away!”
“Molly I was here. I know what Asa did for you. I know what your boyfriend was doing to you, what you lived through…Molly, please talk to me.”
Sam waited again and several long seconds later she heard the click of the door being unlocked. It was slowly pulled inward until she was face to face with a pretty red-head with deep blue eyes. The woman looked like she’d been crying all night. There were deep bags underneath her blackened eyes and there was also a nasty looking gash down the side of her face. In a small, shaky voice she said,
“What do you want?”
“Can I come in Molly? Just for a minute, I promise.” The woman nodded slowly and stepped back as if she was in a trance, pulling the door open wider. Samantha stepped inside and closed the door behind her. Molly went over and sat down on the couch. She gestured at a chair sitting crooked and next to a broken lamp. Samantha sat down and said, “Molly, what Jared and Asa did for you last night could get them both in a lot of trouble if anyone finds out.”
“I know that,” Molly said more forcefully than she’d spoken so far. “I’m not an idiot.”
“I’m sorry Molly. I don’t think you’re an idiot. It’s just that there was someone els
e watching last night, someone from the club. I don’t believe anyone is going to be too upset over the loss of a guy like Andy…but Jared and Asa aren’t high enough up on the hierarchy of the club to make that kind of decision on their own. They’re going to have to answer for it and when they do, I’m wondering if you might be willing to stand up with them and tell Rodney and Carl and the rest of the guys what you suffered through before this happened. And maybe you could tell them that you called Jared last night and begged him to help you.”
“I don’t want Jared and Asa to get into trouble because of me.”
“So I can count on you?”
“Rodney scares me. He scares the shit out of me. He hated Andy and every time we saw him he was just so mean…”
Samantha sighed. She looked at the time on her phone. She was going to have to tell Harry that she wasn’t going to make it soon. Shit. But the phone gave her an idea. “Rodney scares me too,” she told Molly. What would you think about talking to me? What if I videotaped what you had to say and that way you won’t have to sit there and look at him and the others, while you tell your story?”
Molly stared at her for several minutes, mute. Sam was getting antsy about the time, but she stayed patient. When Molly was ready to speak she slowly nodded her head and said, “Okay.” Samantha smiled.
“Thank you.”
**
Samantha left Molly’s house around ten thirty a.m. On her way to the car, she called Harry. He answered on the first ring, “I’m driving Samantha! I’ll be there by noon.”
“Harry I can’t meet you at noon.”
“What the fuck, Samantha? What the hell is wrong with you?”
“There’s nothing wrong with me, Harry. I just had loose ends to tie up and I have to do it this morning. If you still want to see me today I’ll meet you at Happy’s at six p.m.”
ASA: BLACK SKULLS MC Page 13