Page 158 of Lethal Danger

“Exactly.” She beamed a smile at him, pride and appreciation swelling in her for how much he cared about his sister. “You’re giving her space and still protecting her, letting her know she’s loved. It’s a tough balance.”

He blew out a long breath as he looked forward. “That’s an understatement.” He turned his head toward Jazz again as they neared the blankets the PK-9 team had spread close together on the grass. “But I’m thankful to see her happier now that she has closure about Sam.”

Jazz nodded. “That makes a big difference.” Thanks to Pierce’s claims that Butch was guilty of the sabotage and the discovery of Butch’s motive to frame Desmond Patch, the police were open to hearing Hawthorne’s suspicions that Butch had also killed Sam. Further investigation led to Randall from Best Life sharing that Butch had followed him outside the cult once and offered to pay him to give a note to Butch’s ex-wife. Randall testified that Butch had become furious when he’d refused.

Given the possibility that Sam and Butch may have gotten into an altercation about the same issue at the fair, the police examined areas Hawthorne led them to at and around the designated smoking space where Sam was last seen. They found a tiny trace of dried blood on the bottom of a pipe behind the restroom facilities. Sam’s blood.

The detectives and Hawthorne speculated that Butch had lured Sam to the more hidden location by offering to pay him to deliver a message. Given Sam’s drunken state, he may have joked or insulted short-tempered Butch.

Butch’s ex-wife shared that he had been physically abusive during their marriage, but she had never reported the incidents. So the theory that he’d become violent toward Sam was not only plausible, but almost certain.

Now Rebekah and Sam’s parents could grieve knowing what had really happened and knowing his killer hadn’t gotten away with it. Butch had fallen prey to his own schemes and revenge.

According to Rebekah, Sam’s parents were back together. His mom had left the cult to join her husband, Gary, so they could grieve their son’s death together, knowing the truth and finally being able to move on.

If only Hawthorne’s parents would make a similar decision and flee the cult. But neither he nor Rebekah had heard anything from their parents so far. Hawthorne and Jazz were praying that God would change his parents’ hearts, just as God had changed them.

Hawthorne stopped at the edge of the blanket where Nev kicked off her flip-flops and plopped down, basically in Branson’s lap as she’d promised.

Hawthorne released Jazz’s arm and made a sweeping gesture toward the blanket. “Milady.”

“Ooh. How gentlemanly. Are you going to start writing medieval romances now?”

“I never know what you’ll inspire me to do next.” The heat in his eyes sent a tingle to her toes.

“Hey, Cora…Kent.” Nev’s greeting drew Jazz’s attention to the lovely blond and her tall husband as they neared the group, Kent carrying a rolled-up blanket under one arm and a cooler in the other hand.

Cora held a pitcher and a large tote bag. “Hello.” She beamed a smile at the group. “I’ve brought snacks and lemonade for everyone.”

Sweet Cora. Always thinking of their needs and doing her best to meet them.

“No Jana?”

Cora met Jazz’s gaze as Kent rolled out their blanket. “No, the fireworks would be too much for her.”

“I thought about leaving Flash home, too. But I think he’ll be good with the cotton in his ears.” Flash, like all the PK-9 dogs except for Jana, had been trained to be comfortable around loud noises, including gunshots. But Nev had left Alvarez home since those loud sounds were not his favorite thing, and Jazz had added insulation to Flash’s ears to keep the fireworks from damaging his hearing.

Hawthorne slid his arm behind Jazz’s back again. “Want to sit down?”

She gave him a warm smile. “In a second.” Her gaze slid over the PK-9 team members as she stayed standing.

One person was missing. Phoenix. “Anyone know where Phoenix is?”

The other ladies looked at Cora, who was now sitting beside Kent and removing plated food from the cooler. She paused. “She’s had to go away again on a trip.”

“Too bad. She should be here.” This time, Jazz didn’t mean the words as a criticism. Because as much as she still didn’t understand Phoenix, Jazz did know she’d been judging the boss unfairly. She’d allowed her own insecurities to skew the way she viewed the mysterious woman, just like Neveah had said.

In the days since Pierce had tried to kill her, Jazz had felt the full-on blessing of the Phoenix K-9 team. They’d supported her, checked on her, made sure she was safe and healing. Even ribbed her in all the ways they had before. They treated her like family.

And they always had. She’d missed seeing that because she’d been too busy trying to push them away before they could reject her.

But now that she was trying to embrace them, too, she was tasting the wonder of what it was like to have a family of choice. Like Marion Moore’s family that Phoenix had shown her—a family formed through adoption, where love was a choice, not a biological duty.

Was that the real reason Phoenix had taken her to the Forever Home shelter? So she would see that family didn’t have to be by birth, but by the choice to love?

Jazz wouldn’t be surprised. She was starting to come around to Nev’s way of thinking that Phoenix was trying to help all of her agents heal. And one of the ways she did that was by building this family of PK-9.

She also took care of her agents behind the scenes in ways Jazz hadn’t known. Jazz had been flabbergasted to learn from Nev that Phoenix had patrolled with Dag outside Nev’s house every night after the two thugs had broken in. Jazz still needed to eat humble pie and thank Phoenix for that.

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