Page 3 of One More Chance

Kenna frowned. “We can figure this out. But you have to come off that ledge and trust me, the way you trusted me to take your case.”

A fire truck pulled up on the street. Someone got on a bullhorn to tell the crowd to disburse—as if that was going to work. The show wasn’t over, but hopefully, it would be soon.

“She’s right,” the sergeant said. “You’re the one who has the power to figure this out.”

Or the power to end it, but he didn’t say that aloud. Kenna wouldn’t have either.

“We need you to step down.”

She could see in his eyes that he was about to step in, and she braced for it. “Terri, step down.”

The two cops—the sergeant and the guy she’d waved over—glanced at each other. Kenna spotted a hand signal in the dim light, and a nod in response from the officer.

Everyone else started to approach as well, almost silent in their movements. If someone’s life wasn’t on the line, Kenna would have wanted to be here just to watch.

In a split second, the two closest officers both grabbed Terri’s wrist with one hand and a handful of her shirt with the other. Startling her. But she couldn’t do anything about it before they swung her back off the ledge. She fell onto her back on the ground, kicking and screaming. Mostly at Kenna.

There wasn’t anything she could do to help or to hinder them. Once Terri calmed down, Kenna could try and talk to her again. See if she really could assist in what happened to her next.

The sergeant waved at his people by the door to the stairs. “Get the paramedics up here.”

Kenna went for her jacket.

“Not so fast, PI.”

She straightened. Other officers took over with Terri, assisting the paramedics who ran over with duffel bags and a folding chair that had wheels. Kenna turned away, and the sergeant ushered her a couple of paces from the group around Terri.

“Sergeant Hernandez.” He had dark hair, tan lines on either side of his eyes as if he wore sunglasses a lot, and a wedding ring on his left hand.

“Kenna Banbury.” She’d kept her maiden name for business but changed everything personal to the last name Jaxton.

“This woman is a client of yours?”

Kenna nodded. “I have a business card with my information on it, if you’d like?”

When he nodded back, she dug it out of her pocket and handed it over. “Banbury Investigations,” he read from the card, then said, “I’m assuming you have another card that’s your permit for that weapon?”

“Of course.” Jax’s job meant she needed to be on the right side of the law at all times. She’d never had much problem with that, as long as the cops left her alone to do her job. It was just that some of the people she worked with—her team—had more gray-area methods of working.

A suited man came out the door onto the roof. Red hair with a wave, streaked with gray. Suntan lines from sunglasses on either side of his eyes as well. Badge on his belt.

She waved. “Detective Jordash.”

The sergeant said, “You guys know each other?”

Jordash joined their huddle. “Ms. Banbury provided some relevant information on a local businessman, Marshal Hapsworth.” He glanced at her. “We just arrested him an hour ago.”

“That’s good news.” Probably not a great time to tell Terri, though.

“First thing he did was tell us everything Ms. Fleming has been doing. Probably just to save face.”

“If he goes down, they both go down,” Kenna said.

Jordash nodded. “Something like that.”

“I’m going to make sure she has a good lawyer.”

Jordash said, “I still can’t believe she hired you to investigate him, knowing full well you’d find out what she did.” He shook his head, a disbelieving expression on his face.

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