Page 96 of One More Chance

Not so much a part of her life.

Ms. Potter got up and left the room, leaving the door open.

“You think she left anything good in those papers over there?” Ramon asked.

Bruce strode in. “What are you two doing?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Kenna said.

Bruce shook his head. “If there are any resistance fighters in this organization, you just put it in the head of a true believer that it’s a possibility.”

“Ms. Potter?” Kenna didn’t figure her for aDominatusoperative, following orders even if that meant giving her life.

Bruce said, “Scared her to death, the two of you did.”

“I’m the one who gets an apology.” Ramon shifted in his seat. “They asked for my middle name.”

Before Kenna had time to ask what on earth he was talking about, more people came in. A couple of operatives, er, lawyers that she’d already met and then Terri Fleming.

Considering that the last time Kenna had seen her, Terri had been trying to jump off a downtown high-rise building, she looked good. But definitely less bright than when she’d hired Kenna to investigate her business partner.

Terri took a seat on the opposite side of the table, and Lisa Romeo sat beside her. The lawyer said, “We’ve apprised our client as to the situation and have advised her that if she answers your questions, it’s possible you could have the FBI pass on a good word to the district attorney to explain how she aided you.”

Ramon reached over and squeezed her knee, probably harder than necessary. She bit the inside of her lip and said nothing.

Bruce leaned against the wall to Kenna’s right, where she could see him, and he could see everyone in the room. He folded his arms. “Ms. Fleming, we’re aware you are the architect of a decommissioned missile silo that has been refurbished into a medical research facility. We would like to know where it was built.”

Fleming stared at the table.

What was with this woman who had hired her to investigate her business partner, Marshal Hapsworth, when she’d been embezzling herself the whole time? She’d put Kenna in themiddle of a grab for whatever face they could save. One or both of them would go to prison soon.

This woman clearly knew her future wasn’t too bright. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be so downcast. She’d been exposed, ruined, and arrested. After trying to commit suicide, she was going to have to find reasons to live.

Reasons to keep on fighting.

“A group of men took my husband,” Kenna said. The words tumbled out without thought. But she’d played this wrong. She should’ve started talking about this woman’s business partner and then talked her around to doing this out of spite or even for revenge.

Sympathy didn’t work as well as sticking it to the other guy usually did. But it was too late now.

“They are going to kill him if I don’t find a woman, a doctor who was kidnapped, and the man who took her. The same man who hired you to design that silo. Or maybe he purchased the plan from you?” Kenna let that hang in the air for a second. “I need your help, Terri.” She leaned forward and put her elbows on the table, lacing her fingers together in front of her.

All of them would be able to see the ugly scars on her forearms.

She was also covered in dirt.

Kenna had reconciled how she felt about her scars. She followed a Savior whose scars were evidence that He had set the whole world free. She had, in a very small and very individual way, found a way tofellowship in His sufferingsas the Bible said to do. Because she understood what it meant to give of yourself so that someone else could live.

Bradley had done it for her years ago. She hadn’t realized what it truly meant then.

God had paid the ultimate price for her eternal destiny.

Now Jax might shadow that in this life. But if Kenna had any ability at all to create the future she wanted—needed—then she was going to move heaven and earth if God allowed it. She was going to get him back.

She stared across the table. “Terri, I need to know where that silo is.”

Even Ms. Romeo looked moved. One of the lawyers standing to the left, almost like guards in the room in the same way Bruce was standing, wiped under her eye.

Ms. Romeo held her pen poised over a notepad. “We’re all after the same goal here. I’m sure we can come to some kind of arrangement.”

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