Killing Justice (Fractured Minds Series Book 2)
Page 13
“This has to cost a small fortune.”
“It’s okay.” I patted his chest. “I inherited a big one, and I’m ready to spend it.”
“Then why would you ever agree to work with Sloan if you didn’t have to?”
My lips slid into a slow smile. “I like to poke the bear.”
Keep reading for a sneak peek at Hunting Justice.
READ MORE BY KATE ALLENTON
Or maybe you like Psychics Cozy Reads? Check out Dead Wrong, Book 1 in the Cree Blue Psychic Eye Mystery Series.
Feel like adding a little Highlander Romance with your Cozy Psychic Mystery? Check out DEADLY INTENT, Book 1 in the Linked Inc. Series
Or maybe you’d like some straight up Romantic Suspense? Check out Deception, Book 1 in the Carrington-Hill Series.
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Hunting Justice
(Unedited and Subject to Change)
Chapter 1
I clenched and unclenched my fist to stop from leaping over the counter and strangling the gray-haired woman. Killing and going back to the psych ward were definite possibilities in my future.
The Department of Motor Vehicles was crowded with men and women who sat idly by on the verge of falling asleep. The air was stale with the scent of wasted time and someone who’d forgotten deodorant. There were five rows of plastic seats lined up next to each other. Almost every seat was filled with butts that spilled over the edge. Aggravated patrons playing on their phones to pass the time. The one that had been sitting next to me, had a bad case of tapping his foot and if I’d had to sit there another minute, he might be leaving with one less appendage. Their interest only peaked when the intercom came on to announced the next number in line. I had been one of the lucky ones, I’d smiled pleasantly when I’d arrived at the building as the doors opened. There were only five people in front of me, and that was an hour and a half ago. I’d been standing at the counter for mere minutes before the urge to go postal clawed at my resolve, threatening to spring free.
“Ms. Bray. I can’t help it that you were incarcerated and couldn’t renew,” the woman loudly said earning us some questionable looks from the others standing nearby. “It’s stated on our website that the State of South Carolina policies have changed and more paperwork is needed.”
I slammed her hands down on the counter before pointing to the mounds of paperwork in front of the woman. I’d brought everything required; two proofs of residency, additional proof of who I was in the form of my passport, checkbook, and Social Security card. Although, in reality, I could have bought all of that off the internet’s dark web for a hundred bucks, not that I’d mention that to this license scrooge. “And I brought everything that you guys gave me on the list from my last visit where you wouldn’t let me renew the damn thing, what more could you possibly want from me?”
I rubbed my lips together to keep from saying something that might get me kicked out like what happened the day before. The last time I’d forgotten one little slip of information and my twenty-dollar bribe offended the stick in the mud woman behind the counter. My only regret was not offering more.
A picture was propped up on the woman’s desk. Her, a man, and two boys. Some people might feign interest to get on this woman’s good side, but I thought of a more useful way to use them; something better; they might be useful as pressure points if I was sent away again.
A few taps on the keyboard and the lady leaned back in her chair and tilted her head. “I need your marriage certificate and divorce papers to prove the legality of your name changes.”
“What the hell are you even talking about.” My voice shot up an octave, and the security guard at the end of the counter perked up, meeting my gaze. He lifted a single brow.
The ink pen I’d been tapping against the counter stilled as I returned my gaze to the Nazi behind the counter keeping me from legally driving my car.
I lowered my voice. “Surely you’re looking at my sister’s files. She’s the only one that’s married.”
“Lucy Bray, 1524 Wymore Rd. That’s you, right?”
“Yes, but…I’ve never been married.”
“Says here, you married Martin Steinbuckle in the state of Nevada.” She turned the computer around to show me.
Air deflated from my shoulders. I hadn’t heard that name since I was twenty-one years old. “Martin.” I sighed and placed a smile of understanding on my face even as I clenched the pen tighter in my hand. If Martin had screwed this up, he was going to die. “Martin and I were a mistake. You see we were in Vegas and well…”
“Mistake or not, I need a marriage certificate and divorce papers before I can issue your renewed license. The State of South Carolina requires it.
“I’m not married. Martin and his uncle promised to file an annulment. That should have voided all of this.”
An understanding registered on the lady’s face. “Ms. Bray, or should I say, Steinbuckle. I understand your predicament, truly I do, but you have to understand, I can’t renew your license without the proper paperwork. If your marriage was truly annulled, bring me proof, and we’ll work on having it changed in the system.”
The woman paperclipped my documents and rested them on the counter in front of me. “Have a nice day.”
Have a nice day? How in the hell was I going to do that? My shoulders sagged as memories of Martin rushed through my mind. We’d been drunk, we’d been celebrating, and the rest of that night had been a big blur. How in the hell was I supposed to fix this if I didn’t even know where the man was?
Finding my ex-husband promised to be more of a challenge than finding dead people and killers but one thing remained, if that SOB hadn’t followed through on the paperwork, he’d only live long enough to regret it.
Sloan’s limo was taking up three parking spots in the back of the lot. Explaining that only one tiny legal document held me back from taking his job was going to be interesting; even comical. I couldn’t provide human resources with the correct paperwork, no matter what skills I’d be able to bring to the table.
I opened the door and slid inside the air-conditioned back of the limo. The leather seats like heaven after the plastic crap I’d been sitting on. Sloan folded the newspaper he’d been reading. “Well, don’t be shy, let me see your picture.”
“I didn’t get it.” The words spewed out of my mouth like vomit. “I didn’t have the proper paperwork.”
He clasped his fingers together and rested them on the newspaper. “I double checked your paperwork from the list. How is that possible?”
I grimaced. My past indiscretion came back to bite me in the derriere. “Apparently I’m married to a mistake and only divorce or death is going to fix this.”
“You’re married?” he asked, as perplexed as I’d been.
“In my twenties when inebriated on the Vegas strip, I was married by Elvis and by dawn the next day, I’d realized my mistake. I woke up to find a note signed by Martin Steinbuckle that he’d handle the annulment paperwork. Come to find out, he’d taken my winnings from the previous night out of my wallet as some type of spousal support or filing fee. I don’t know which, but he’d left me broke and stranded. He’s part to blame for the sunshine I am today.”
“Apparently, he lied, Mrs. Steinbuckle.” Sloan said trying to hide the humor in his voice and the smile from forming on his face.
“If I end up in jail because I killed my husband, you’d bail me out, right?”
About the Author
Kate has lived in Florida for most of her entire life. She enjoys a quiet life with her husband, Michael and two kids.
Kate has pulled all-nighters finishing her favorite books and also writing them. She says she'll sleep when she's dead or when her muse stops singing off key.
She loves creating worlds full of suspense, secrets, hunky men, kick ass heroines, steamy sex and oh yeah the love of a lifetime. Not to mention an occasional ghost and other supernatural talents thrown int
o the mix.
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