She shot him a look. “Bruce?”
“I got you, Trouble.” The former CIA agent folded his arms across the front of his Hawaiian shirt. “Kenna wasn’t at the bar. That means everyone goes home and gets some sleep. We won’t find her if we’re all burned out. We’ll miss something important. Like the fact that Buzard is dead, and yet he’s on video walking around…”
“No one missed that,” Jax said. “It’s a lead.”
“Exactly.” Bruce nodded.
Jax shook his head. “Is this pep talk going to have a point?”
If he was going to be honest, he still wanted to go a few rounds with Ramon. Not for the reason Elizabeth had told Maizie, though. Jax had his own reasons. But he was still going to rely on the guy to help find Kenna.
As long as they all knew it was Jax who was going to be the one to find her.
“We have work to do. Leads to follow. If we work together, we’ll get her back,” Bruce sounded sure, but all of their hope had waned in the last month.
Right now, it was hard not to hear it as empty sentiment.
“We need to find her,” Bruce added. “For all our sakes.”
Chapter Four
Jax left his phone in the car. He didn’t want to see any more missed calls from Ramon. Until Kenna was found, he wasn’t sure he had anything else to say to the guy. After all, they’d made themselves clear to each other last night.
He’d gone home and slept in his room because he wanted to be closer to Maizie in case she needed to talk about what happened. She’d been upset, but that upset led to her sleeping in Kenna’s RV in the garage. And when he’d gone over to try and talk to her, he’d overheard her talking—probably to Elizabeth. He’d given her space and left the house before she was up this morning.
Heat shimmered up from the asphalt even though it was still early. He walked the path flanked by rows of neatly planted cypress trees that were all fifteen feet and immaculately manicured. The lawn looked like a golf course, dotted with headstones. One of them would readDoctor Marcus Buzard.
Jax tugged the folded paper from his inside breast pocket and knocked on the door of a white square single-story building with peeling paint on the stone exterior. He let himself in and found an older man shuffling papers on a desk. “Sir?”
On the street behind him, several cars screeched to a stop, parking behind his car, going fast but not running lights and sirens. He shut the door just as FBI agents hopped out. At least half a dozen who apparently didn’t have anything better to do than come here and find out what he was up to.
Jax cleared his throat. “Sir?”
The guy grabbed a stack of files and a radio, then straightened. He flinched seeing Jax standing there. “I didn’t…” He reached for the back of his ear. “Didn’t turn on my hearing aids this morning. Didn’t even hear you come in.”
“Sorry if I startled you. Are you the manager here?”
“Manager, groundskeeper…pest control—you name it.”
He shifted his jacket so the man would be able to see the badge on his belt. “I’m Special Agent Oliver Jaxton. This is a warrant for the exhumation of a body.” He handed over the paper.
The older man frowned at his document, then looked at the window. “People usually bring equipment. You gonna dig this person up by yourself?”
The door opened behind him, and several agents came in, Farlan at the lead.
“Did you bring a shovel?” Jax asked.
“Sir…” Farlan began. Maybe he had no idea what to say. “Can we step outside, Jax?”
Rather than get into a disagreement with his subordinate, Jax turned to the groundskeeper. “Can you show me where to find plot AC28?”
The older guy wandered to a map on the wall. “AC.” He ran his finger up the map of the grounds, then across a horizontal line. “Twenty-eight is by the fountain, couple rows back to the north.”
“Thank you,” Jax said. “You can keep that copy of the paperwork.” He headed for the door and stepped outside.
Special Agent Herron broke off her conversation with one of the other agents and came over.
He told her, “We’re going to need something to dig with.”