Page 12 of Long Road Home

Jax sighed. “It boils down to him not wanting someoneelse to solve our case. He likes his numbers to make him look good.”

Kenna had asked him questions through his story of yesterday’s workday. She hadn’t gone so far as to make him wonder if she was interrogating him, but he was definitely not saying something.

He was holding back.

She’d decided a long time ago that if a man needed to keep his own confidence, then that was his decision. They’d been through enough since they met that if he felt he needed to not tell her something, then she wasn’t going to get butthurt about it. What would be the point in inventing a problem when she could just be understanding?

God had been plenty understanding with her.

“The FBI doesn’t need help,” Jax said. “And my boss definitely won’t ask for it.”

Kenna snorted at his tone. “At least not from someone without a badge.”

Which was why she’d left the Walker case to the FBI and come to Wisconsin to find Ramon’s sister. Her former colleague might have been written off by the rest of the FBI. But so had she. The FBI didn’t want her on their team, so what was the point trying to be picked? She’d rather fight for the people no one fought for.

“You know I don’t agree with that, right? You’d run circles around these guys—and me.”

“Maybe notyou.”

“Pick a case.” He gave a warm chuckle. “We’ll go head-to-head.”

As she ran onto Forrest’s street, she spotted a police cruiser in front of the house. “Huh. There’s a cop here.” She slowed her pace instinctively, not all the way sure why.

Every run-in with a cop was different. How would thisone feel about the fact she’d left Marion Wells’ house with the victim, rather than stay with the suspect? How did they feel about Forrest’s family’s accident, and the note suggesting it might have been intentional?

Did they know?

Jax said, “I’m back at my car.”

Their hour-long run was over.

Kenna slowed to a walk. “Have a good day at the office, dear.”

Jax chuckled. “Right back at ya.”

She removed her ear buds and stowed them in her jacket pocket.

Just then, Forrest opened the front door to the officer, who stood in front of her on the stoop. He was probably five eleven. Down jacket, tucked behind his gun, which sat on his left hip rather than his right. Kenna was too far away to hear what Forrest said, but the look on the woman’s face spoke loudly enough. Blood seemed to have drained out of her skin, leaving her olive complexion almost sickly. She spotted Kenna, turned, and went back inside, leaving the door open.

Kenna cleared her throat. “Something I can help you with, Officer?”

He turned to her. “It’sDeputyKobrinsky. Jerry. And you’re Kenna Banbury.” At least the cops in this county did a web search looking for background on strangers and newcomers.

“I’m guilty of that, at least.” They shook. “Forrest might try and ignore this, but I’m looking into what happened with her family. If that note was right and the accident wasn’t an accident…” He needed to know she might intentionally step on some toes. Would his boss mind, or would the sheriff dismiss her like Jax’s Assistant Special Agent inCharge?

Jerry frowned. “What? That’s not… I’m here about Marion Wells.”

“Right, I should’ve come by and made a statement.”

He folded his arms across his chest. “I’m the one who informed Forrest that her husband and son had been killed. You’re really dragging all that back up and making her go through it again? You might’ve done the county a favor finding that girl and detaining Marion Wells, but that’s the only thing you need to be worried about. If the accident wasn’t that, I’d have informed Forrest when I told her what happened. No one needs you digging up something that isn’t there.”

She wanted to fold her arms, too, but mirroring his body language would only make her look defensive. “Regardless of how you feel about private investigators, you said you came here to talk about Marion. Correct?”

So what if he got the wrong end of this stick. She didn’t have to explain herself or the note. It wasn’t like she’d convince him she wasn’t doing this to be self-serving, or thinking there was a case where there wasn’t one.

Kobrinsky nodded. “Everyone is glad you prioritized saving that girl’s life.”

“How is she doing?” Kenna shivered. “Let’s go inside. You want some coffee?” He closed the door behind him, and she dug a couple of pods out of the box in the pantry—the flavor Forrest didn’t like for Jerry’s coffee and the one she liked for hers. “Black? Milk?”

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