Page 4 of Storm and Tempest
“Already in the works.”
“And I want a word with the boss.”
She glanced at him, but said nothing, then led him through a set of swinging doors into the main room of the club. A stage wrapped around from two bars—one to the right and another to the left—in a roped off area. Slim catwalks cut through the tables, providing the customers with a nearly 360-degree view of what was on offer. “He’s in his office. Guy was deleting files off his computer, but maybe they can be restored. The whiz kid can do that, right?”
“This doesn’t go to Maizie,” Jax cut in. “You keep her out of it.” He needed a good reason, though. “She has enough to work on.”
Agent Herron didn’t argue, but she clearly also didn’t buy his slapshot reasoning.
Didn’t matter, though. Just as long as Maizie was kept out of this. No need for her to be reminded that what she’d gone through for years happened every day. That the world was a sick place with so many evil people, which sometimes felt overwhelming. They all had to remember that good overcame evil every day. That God was sovereign and ultimately justice would be done.
He could still stand on the truth even if his prayers didn’t feel like they were being answered.
The jobs they had both chosen meant they were a force for good in the world. They had the means to save people, and that was always what they tried to do. It was who his wife was,looking for victims who had been lost. Saving the innocent and bringing the perpetrators to justice.
Even after they had married a few months ago, that hadn’t changed.
Until their enemy had targeted Kenna and he hadn’t been around to save her.
“You good, Boss?”
He glanced at her and nodded. “I’m good.”
“This way.” She led him to a back hall, past agents putting zip ties on a couple of guys in black slacks and muscle shirts, and a woman yelling profanity at them wearing an FBI windbreaker to cover her bare skin.
One agent stood at the open door, another inside the small office. The manager was the only one wearing sunglasses. The agent had cuffed him, and the man now sat in a wooden chair in the center of the room.
Jax stopped. “We need to get Forensics in here.”
Herron turned to him, and the other agents looked over. “Why’s that?”
He backed up and turned up the dial on the overhead light so he could get a better look at the faux wood panels under the chair. “Someone cleaned up this floor. Might’ve been blood.” He drew out his phone and thumbed through to a photo of Kenna. He turned it to the bar owner. “Have you seen this woman?”
“What’s this—a missing person case?” The guy snorted, and Jax spotted a couple of broken teeth.
“Just answer the question. Maybe you’ll help yourself.”
The guy sneered. “Whatever.”
Jax waited. Criminals weren’t usually reasonable, let alone logical and cooperative. But he needed a second of this guy’s attention so he could find out if Kenna had ever been here.
The guy’s gaze flicked to the phone screen again.
“Take a good look.”
“Her.”
Jax’s stomach clenched. “You’ve seen this woman?”
The guy shrugged. “Not for a few weeks. She was in here. Picked up one of the…” He cleared his throat.
Jax shifted closer. “She did what now?”
The guy shifted on the seat.
Herron touched his arm. “We can finish this conversation. You don’t need to be here.”
“I’m not going anywhere until I have the whole story.”
