The older man had black slacks, shined shoes, and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal tattoos covering his forearms. He pushed his chair back from Zeyla and came over. “Sleep is good, but I’ll keep an eye on him. He has two broken ribs and a bruised collarbone, but no head injury and no internal bleeding.”
Was that good? In the grand scheme of things, probably. But the next few weeks weren’t going to be fun.
She turned to Preston, who looked up from his phone. “We have the information from Shawn Terrance’s drive.”
“That’s good.”
She nodded. “We still have what we need to prove Shawn was right to blow the whistle on the company he worked for, but with no idea who those guys that kidnapped Gabby were, we don’t know if there’s another group in play. A bigger threat than the company’s team of uptight lawyers.”
After how it went at the police station, talking their way out of theft charges and helping work on the operation… Of course, they were supposed to have done that as a favor and also given the drive back to the company—which they did not do. Kenna didn’t figure they were super pleased with her team right now.
“We can give them the original, now that we can make copies of everything.” She turned to Maizie and saw that Zeyla’s eyes were open. “They won’t be able to sweep this under the rug.”
Her sister, usually ready to jump into a fight at any time, looked exhausted.
“We’ll regroup and come up with a plan to hand over the drive, plus also blast the internet with the truth.” She headed toward Maizie and pulled up a chair beside her. Not the most comfortable chair in the world, given that it was wicker with a thin cushion, but it was better than standing all day with swollen ankles. “What do you think, Maizie? It’s your case.”
The younger woman glanced over from her computer screen, and Kenna saw an odd look on her face.
“What is it?” Kenna asked.
Maizie hesitated. “Another episode of that podcast just dropped. It’s about the Seventh Day Killer.”
A host of memories, most of which had Jax in them. Some with her first love, Bradley, before he died. All of it was mixed together in her mind. Kenna forced them all back and focused on Maizie.
“He’s getting closer to recounting crimes that we all investigated together.” Maybe Maizie was worried about the truth of where she’d come from being discovered.
The younger woman shook her head. “He’s got a special guest on the show. He’s interviewing the Seventh Day Killer’s final victim, the one you saved.”
“Ellayna Feathers?”
Maizie nodded.
“She’s a child!” Kenna nearly exploded out of her chair, remembering that night at the theater when she’d found Ellayna in the basement and had to fight off the killer to save her. They’d been through so much. Ellayna’s mom emailed Kenna every few months to check in and let her know how the girl was doing. She’d just had her twelfth birthday.
Maizie pointed at the screen. “She’s a guest on his show.”
Kenna gripped the sides of the chair. “I want to listen to it.”
Chapter Eleven
Washington, DC, Federal Courthouse
Present Day
“The sheriff’s office burned down, and he didn’t make it. Because people like Sheriff Joe Don Hunter might not always do the right thing. But when it counts, they don’t let others suffer. They stick their necks out for people because a life—any life—has value.”
Hasworth, the US attorney prosecuting this case, stood up from her perch on the edge of the table. “Is that what your team does? You pick and choose who to save. Judge, jury, and executioner. Is that it?”
Kenna reached for the water glass on the little shelf in the witness stand with her. She didn’t want to look at the defendant. The fact that she wasn’t the one on trial was a minor miracle. But how could she thank God for small things like that when this was what her life had turned into?
Everything she’d thought she was about had been turned upside down. Kind of like this court case that made no sense. All the rules had gone out the window.
“No,” Kenna said. “That isn’t it.”
Hasworth lifted a hand and held it out, as if motioning for Kenna to continue. “We’re all here until your testimony is concluded. But I can’t help thinking that you’re stalling for time. That certainly seems like something you would do.”
“I’m not dragging this story out. The case requires context, and I have to give that to the court, or the jury cannot possibly make an unbiased decision. None of us can until we see all the sides.”
