Page 86 of Long Road Home

“She’s all right. I think winter makes her tired.”

“Okay, so tell me what’s going on.” Kenna dug into the meal while Maizie clicked keys on the other end of the line.

“James Bernard Hauserton was convicted of two counts of murder half a dozen years ago in the state of Arizona. He worked in a gun store, and on paper had affiliation with a local group who liked to stage armed protests outside government buildings. They all live on one ranch on the east side of Arizona in the middle of nowhere. The website indicates they’ve started their own town, and it’s not US territory. It’s an independent country. Can they do that?”

Kenna said, “Folks can declare whatever they want. Doesn’t make it true.”

“The court case files have a lot of redacted parts. Is that normal?”

“No. Any idea what it was about?”

“There are indications he was a confidential informant for an FBI agent.” Maizie paused. “Maybe that’s why he was with that group.”

“Maybe.” It was speculation at best, but she wasn’t going to begrudge Maizie theorizing. “But it was also years ago. People change.”

“I hope so. For both our sakes.”

Kenna smiled around a bite. “What about more recently?”

“Prison records indicate he kept his nose clean. It doesn’t have the alias he’s using, or anything about him talking to the marshals, so I’m not sure I’ll get much more. Only that he went to the doctor every week for a shot.”

Kenna figured that could actually be meetings with the marshals.

“I can’t see who he worked with at the FBI, so I can’t tell who he might be testifying against.”

“Okay, what about Gingrich’s people or anyone else?” She also wanted to ask about the latest with Forrest and her lawyer, but first she had to ascertain they weren’t in real danger staying here. No way could they afford to get complacent if they were about to be attacked.

Kenna set her bowl in the kitchen sink and filled it with water. She set the faucet back to a slow drip so the pipes didn’t freeze and walked to the window.

“Kobrinsky is up to his eyeballs in debt,” Maizie said. “I’m not sure buying that boat last summer was a great idea, but the woman on it with him on Instagram seemed to be having a good time. And all her friends.”

Kenna rolled her eyes and peeked out between the drawn curtains. Dust puffed up when she moved the material, making her sneeze.

“Bless you.”

She glanced back at Jax, who returned to his conversation with Pilsborough, then tried to see if there was any movement outside. No point being caught off guard as much as any of them could help it.

“Rayland doesn’t have much in the way of assets. His personal car is registered to the same address where his mom lives and has her office. So I guess he still lives at home?”

“It’s a rough economy.”

“Nothing odd in his financials. Gingrich, either.” Maizie paused. “Pilsborough is a few days late on this month’s child support. He has a four-year-old and a three-year-old, both girls. They live with his ex-wife in Santa Monica.”

“And the other?”

“Destain is a little more…hard to nail down.”

Kenna’s eyes burned from staring at trees outside, so she moved the curtain back and went to make herself coffee. Thankfully, this instant was the freeze-dried kind, not the powder stuff that sucked.

“I’ve got a rental agreement, and a cabin up in Big Bear that looks like it’s been in his family for generations. He drives a hundred-thousand-dollar car.”

“Some newer ones cost that. It’s crazy.” Kenna shook her head.

“And he made a huge payment on it recently, settled the debt. Plus, he opened an account with an online bank based in the Caymans. So he has some money offshore.”

Money that Uncle Sam never picked up on him having. “Interesting.”

“In all, it was sixty thousand. He was smart, spreading itout across multiple things so it was broken up. Didn’t raise any red flags.”

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