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He closed his eyes. “This is my fucking fault.”

I rushed from the bed and knelt in front of him. “You think it’s her? The girl you dated?”

His eyes hardened. “She had a tattoo on her wrist. Something from a college spring break trip.”

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think.

“Where is she?” I asked, shaking him. “Where did she go when you broke up?”

He lifted his head. “She moved from New York to L.A.”

Eighteen

Asher

I deserved that bullet. Me. I was the one who should have been in the hospital. I should have had to fight for my life. Not Tristan, and especially not Journey.

I had swallowed Claire and spit her out. Used her. I never pretended to want a relationship. The terms were always clear, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t an ass. I never let anyone get too close. Not with Avajean in my life and Journey in my past. At some point, that behavior was going to catch up to me.

That day had come.

I couldn’t stand the look on Journey’s face.

I pushed her off me and rose from the chair. “I need to call Tomas and get Claire’s profile to the police.”

“Claire? That’s her name?”

“We dated a few months ago. I guess two or three maybe?” I didn’t have the exact date. It hadn’t mattered that much. “She texted and told me she was moving to L.A. I thought it was just to get a reaction from me. She wanted me to ask her to stay. I don’t know. I don’t do mind games. And honestly, I didn’t care. I haven’t heard from her since.”

“Then how do you know it was her, Asher? You don’t know for sure it was this woman you knew. This might be one jump too many.”

“It’s not.” I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed the office. I looked at Journey. “She knew about you. I said too much. I don’t know why.” I walked out of the bedroom when Tomas answered.

“I have an ID on the Tessier shooter.”

“You do?” He sounded surprised.

“Her name is Claire Stephens. She doesn’t have a criminal record. I’ll send a picture. I’ve got one on my cloud. Roughly 5’6”. Black hair. Green eyes. Moved to L.A. in the past two months. I don’t have an address. We have to find her. She isn’t done.”

“As soon as I have the picture I’ll start scanning for facial recognition.”

“We leave in two hours for the dinner. I can’t take Journey out of the house with Claire waiting for her.”

“I understand.”

Nothing else mattered right now except finding Claire. She could be in the house next door. She could be parked in a car down the street. She knew me, and she knew about Journey.

My next call was to the detective contact I had at the LAPD. Officer Erickson took the information I gave him, but without any evidence or proof, he wasn’t willing to go after an accused woman. It was my word and hunch, and he had to follow the law.

I didn’t.

I met with the four agents at the house. They all had shots of Claire on their phones. If they recognized her from when we dated, they didn’t mention it.

I vetted Journey’s hairstylist and makeup artist at the door. They were patted down for weapons and I personally searched them for anything planted. Journey thought I overreacted. They had worked for her for years, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t taking any chances.

The only good thing about tonight’s dinner was it kept Journey distracted. For two hours, she could focus on transforming into a Hollywood starlit. I’d worry about her safety and let the artists do their work.

I spoke to the driver while Journey was upstairs getting ready. I wanted to make sure we took a different route than what was expected from Malibu. We neede

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