Page 25 of One More Chance

Saying to theDominatusthat they couldn’t control her life. She was still going to do what she did, and they weren’t going to change her. It felt good to thumb her nose at the big bad company. Like standing up against a bully.

She found Jax in his office, taking papers off the printer. “Ready to go? Maizie said the lawyers are available.”

“Ready.” He stuffed the papers into an empty file and brought them with him, grabbing his keys.

She got in the passenger’s side, flipped open the file, and leafed through the pages to read the cold case information as he drove across town to the office for Hann, Anthony, and Associates.

A Mafia boss had gone missing. At the same time, an FBI agent disappeared, and the gold the Mafia boss had supposedly stolen from another Vegas casino owner at the time had never been found. She looked for the Santino name, but it was nowhere in this file. Not that she’d expected it to be connected to the same family as Nicola Santorini. She wouldn’t have been surprised if it had been, though.

She skimmed the page. “Did the bureau talk to the casino owner?”

“Airtight alibi. He had no idea what happened to either of them. He also said the gold wasn’t stolen, but that it was a payment for something.”

“So he wasn’t looking for it and didn’t care that it was gone?” She flipped another page. “If it was up for grabs after their disappearance, maybe he went after it later.”

Jax said, “Or he’s the one who killed them both and took back his gold. But the man the bureau had embedded undercover in his casino said he didn’t have it and wasn’t going after it. He didn’t care at all, apparently. He wanted nothing to do with it. The statement said he actually thought the boss was scared of something or someone else, so he was staying out of it.”

“Very interesting.”

Jax pulled into the parking lot.

It turned out there were more lawyers on the payroll than the two she’d met at the park. The law firm had a huge office, six stories tall, which took up the entire corner lot in the commercial park. The exterior was all black and glass.

“Impressive.”

“Hmm.” Jax shut off the car.

“What?”

“I don’t know yet.”

She figured he had some idea, so as they walked together across the packed parking lot to the front doors, she asked, “Whatdoyou know?”

“They found you. How easy is that? Not only did they find you, but they know something happened to you?”

She explained that she figured it might’ve been Bruce who approached them, regardless of what he’d said to her. “They had a picture of the doctor, and I recognized him right away. I know it’s him that did…whatever it is he did to me.”

Jax nodded. “That’s what I’m worried about.”

“I still think they’re resistance. They just have that look about them.”

The doors swished open ahead of them. Kenna blinked against the brightness of the expansive lobby that stretched up at least three stories with balconies overlooking from the floor above. All of it was bright white, even the couches. Even the fake plants in the corners were white and the artwork on the walls.

They headed to the receptionist, a shock of color in this ocean of stark whiteness. Strawberry-blond hair, blue eyes, and a green dress. She had a matching suit jacket on the back of her chair and a headset that covered one ear, the mic resting along her cheek.

“Welcome, Ms. Banbury.” She looked at Jax. “Special Agent in Charge Jaxton.” Nodded. “I’ll inform the partners that you’re here.”

“Thanks.” Kenna turned from the woman and put her back to the counter. She raised her brows to Jax. “This place is obviously a front.”

Jax gave her a knowing smile, as if he thought her being mischievous was adorable.

She leaned over the reception desk toward the woman. “What is this place, really? I mean, this isn’t just a law office. Is the resistance operating in Arizona? Another fake companywith no real clients, and the people you do deal with…it’s heavily weighted toward your agenda.”

Kenna looked at her nameplate on the counter. “Taylor Newport? Is that even your real name?”

The receptionist tapped a button on the desk phone’s keypad and spoke low into her headset, but Kenna couldn’t make out what she was saying. Probably calling for security or reporting to them that Kenna was already acting unhinged.

She needed them to think she was a wild card—someone they couldn’t control. But maybe not this early, when she hadn’t even found out what they wanted with her. They might have information on her lost time from the day before and why she felt better today than she had in weeks.

---