Page 122 of Long Road Home

The lawyer didn’t answer, so the call went to voicemail.

Kenna ended it. She heard the door open, her attention on the phone. She sent the lawyer a series of texts, wondering if this absence would turn out to be intentional. Getting more and more frustrated over the whole thing, but mostly that Forrest hadn’t wanted to talk to her.

Kenna didn’t like that her friend had refused her support.

Standing on her own showed strength, but leaning on people who cared about her might help for Forrest more than dogged independence. She couldn’t withstand this all by herself. The lawyer might have supplied a helicopter to get those two marshals and their prisoner to Chicago—assuming they arrived—but if he let Forrest go to jail, they were going to have a serious problem.

Kenna would make it her life’s work to ensure he understood they had a problem.

She turned to Jax. “Forrest can’t go to jail.”

Over his shoulder, Gingrich said, “She’ll get released. Don’t worry so much about it. We need to find Jennifer Rayland and figure out what’s going on.”

Kenna said, “Where do we find her?”

He was the expert on the psychologist, so he should have some idea where they could look. She only knew about the boat. That would be the first place Kenna went. After that, she’d be drawing a blank without Maizie’s help.

She sent her teen friend/assistant/ward—whatever she was—a text.

Does Jennifer have a phone we can track?

Then stowed her phone. “I’m not ignoring Forrest’s situation. Okay, Sheriff? You created this Jennifer Rayland problem. Whatever it is. Maybe you’re the one who should clean it up.”

What skin in the game didshehave?

Jax was here, and they needed to draw out Stan Tilley.

She cared what happened to Forrest and would do what she could to help that situation. A woman who might be sick, but only guilty of having gross images in her house, wasn’t her highest priority right now.

Jax set his phone on the desk. “Our friend gave his statement.”

Well, that was something that had gone right at least. Jim did what he’d journeyed to Chicago for, facing all that danger. Getting shot, along with Pilsborough. And they’d managed to succeed.

“I need to callmyfriend.” Kenna huffed. “Or figure out how to get him to answer the phone.”

Kobrinsky said, “What are you guys talking about?”

“A different case.” Kenna needed a copy of the report from Marion’s burial site. “Did all the victims’ bodies get exhumed yet?” She motioned to his leg.

“They’re pulling the last one today,” Kobrinsky said. “There’s a whole team here from the state police.”

“Whole county’s crawling with staties.” Gingrich grumbled. “Can’t turn around without bumping into one.”

His deputy said, “And whose fault is that?”

Jax shifted, leading her away from them for a sidebar. But before he could say anything, the door flung open and the state officer stomped out. “Where is she?”

Jax stepped toward him, slightly in front of her. “Excuse me?”

The guy looked slightly confused, like he didn’t know who Jax was. They hadn’t been introduced, so that wasn’t surprising. Plus, local guys didn’t always want the feds getting in their way. About as much as they didn’t want to believe theyeverneeded the help of a private investigator. Which was why Kenna tried to take cases that had nothing to do with them.

“It’s a simple question,” the officer said. “Where is she?”

“Who?” Kenna had no idea what he was talking about. “Forrest is in her cell.”

And Kenna was not happy about that. She was downright irritated, in fact.

“Except that she isn’t.” He turned to face the sheriff. “Where’s the computer that will show us your camera feed?”

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