Six months later, Arthur’s conviction had moved off the front page. He received a twenty-year sentence for fraud and felony money laundering. Liquidators broke up the Ashford Group, and people at cocktail parties had already shortened the case to a warning about borrowed money.
I stayed in the city. I secured my trust, and the courts awarded me damages for the conspiracy to defraud me. I used the money to buy the places where Arthur’s name still hung over the doors, starting with the racing club.
Morning light crossed the empty asphalt below the viewing tower. The new sign at the gate read Phoenix Racing Club. The deed carried my name.
Jaxon came up behind me in a silver-and-black uniform with the club’s phoenix emblem over his heart. He stopped at my side instead of crowding me. When h
