“Mariko hasn’t forgotten a single thing,” Ricco said. “Now she is here as my fiancée, not your daughter, and what we need to discuss with you concerns her. She needs to be here.”

He made it clear, and there was no subtlety about it, that Mariko was under his protection. Osamu didn’t fail to understand. She shot Mariko a look of pure poisonous hatred. She settled into the chair beside her husband and glared at Ricco.

“Fiancée?” Disgust twisted her voice. “You are a shadow rider with a great name. You allow the daughter of a whore to seduce you into giving her a ring?”

Ricco shocked Mariko by settling back in his chair, steepling his fingers and regarding Dai over the top of them. “Since when is rudeness to shadow riders and their families tolerated? This family has fallen a long way since I was a boy. There was a time the name Saito was highly respected. Now your woman insults both my fiancée and me in your home right in front of you. It is sad that your wife disrespects you so much that she would insult a fellow rider in your own home. You have my sympathy.”

Stefano stirred, nodding his head. “Mine as well, Dai.”

It took every ounce of discipline Mariko possessed to remain still and quiet in her little corner. Osamu looked as if she might have a stroke. Her face was mottled a beet red and she sputtered, trying to get out a protest. Dai shot her a look of resignation and disappointment.

“Enough, Osamu. You are to answer questions, not give your opinion.” His voice was low and defeated. He hung his head and reached for worry beads he always kept on him.

Mariko knew Osamu detested those beads.

“We’re looking for Mariko’s brother,” Stefano said. “Do you know where he is?”

Osamu cackled, sounding exactly, to Ricco’s ears, like the witches from horror movies. The strange laughter had Dai leaping to his feet and beginning to pace. He glared at his wife. She kept up the screeches, rocking herself back and forth, looking for all the world like an old crow.

At one time, Mariko had considered Osamu beautiful – the most beautiful of all the women in their circle. There was none of that beauty now. She looked old and evil. She could barely look at her, barely see the woman Mariko had hoped would one day come to see she’d tried her best to be a good daughter.

“Osamu!” Dai pressed his hands to his ears. “Stop that this instant.”

Osamu sobered immediately, as if her husband had slapped her across the face.

“Answer Stefano’s question.” Dai paced across the room, turning his back on her as if disgusted.

Osamu bared her teeth at Stefano. “Of course I know where he is, but you’ll never find him. Never.”

“Osamu,” Mariko whispered. “How could you be a part of harming him?”

Ricco shook his head, the gesture barely perceptible, but Mariko nodded, ashamed she’d broken her silence when both men had specifically asked her not to.

“You didn’t do your job, Mariko, and it was so simple. Just like the jobs I gave you in the house. The cooking and cleaning. Very simple tasks, but you always messed them up.”

Osamu’s attention was wholly on her now. Mariko realized why the brothers had asked her not to speak. Her very presence was inciting her.

Osamu leaned toward her. “You were a horrible child, always looking to get out of work. I had to beat you to keep your attention on your tasks. You needed attention all the time. Every second of the day. You ran over your own brother so he wouldn’t be able to be trained. You wanted all the accolades for yourself.”

“She didn’t run over Ryuu,” Ricco objected. “Have you forgotten that I was there that night? I saw them all. I witnessed what they did. Nao Yamamoto stomped on Ryuu. I saw Mariko save him. She kicked Nao and drew his attention away from her brother.”

“You lie!” Osamu shrieked, her face once more twisted. “Why do you lie, Ricco? We always treated you like a son. Why would you lie about such a girl?” Her features turned sly. “You’re fucking her, aren’t you? I knew you would. Her mother was a whore on the street and her daughter is just like her.”

“Enough, Osamu,” Dai snapped, his back to her. Both hands were behind his back, his fingers clenching and unclenching in two tight fists. “Answer them immediately. Where is the boy?”

At the lash of Dai’s command, Osamu sank back into her chair, looking small and defeated. She began to rock herself, her arms around her middle. “Where is he? Where is he?” Her voice rose in a singsong. “Where is he?” She chanted it over and over.

Dai turned from where he was staring out the window to look at his wife. To Mariko’s horror, there were tears in his eyes. “Osamu, please. Tell them where Ryuu is, so they can go. You’re becoming agitated again.”

It was very difficult to watch Osamu’s madness – there was no question that Mariko was looking at a woman totally insane. By turns she would look crafty and then, when she looked at her husband, she crumbled completely. It was all she could do not to go to the woman and try to comfort her. She must have made a move toward Osamu because Ricco’s hand suddenly shot out and caught her wrist in a viselike grip.

The action drew Osamu’s gaze and instantly her expression changed again. Hatred was stamped in every line of her face. “You’re such a vile creature. Tempting men just like your mother. She ruined Daiki. Ruined him. He was a rider of unimaginable talent, but he was so weak, letting himself be seduced by that bitch.”

Dai shook his head and left the room, his face lined with age and fatigue, with a terrible sorrow that was beyond all words. His shoulders slumped and he looked to Mariko as if he’d aged right in front of her.

“Osamu.” Stefano’s voice was very low, almost too low to hear, but the woman’s attention immediately swung to him. “You were going to tell us where Ryuu is.”

She shook her head and began to cackle again. “You’ll never find him.”

“Does Nao Yamamoto have him?”

Osamu tapped her knee hard with her fist. “He doesn’t have long to live. Time is running out for him.” She swung her head toward Mariko again. “You should have killed Ricco Ferraro, not fucked him.” She threw back her head and began laughing hysterically as if she’d told a great joke. “Not that it would have done you any good, but the other riders would know how you broke the code and killed another rider.”

“Osamu.” Stefano brought her attention back to him. “We need to know where Ryuu is.”

“You need? The oh-so-perfect Ferraros need something from Osamu?” She glared at Ricco. “I want my sons back. He took them from me. Give me back my sons and I’ll tell you what you want to know.”