Page 89 of Dust and Ashes

Kenna stared out the windshield at the jetties, boats lined up. A tourist spot an hour from Cielo Ardiente—maybe more. This wasn’t the kind of place she’d think a delivery would come in. Which was probably exactly why Navarro chose it. “Where is the money coming in from?”

Ramon had parked out of the way, where they could watch a row of boats. Nothing headed this way out in the dark still water. At least, not with lights on. “Does it matter?”

“Matters where it came from in the sense that will indicate how it was obtained.” Though, Kenna could easily guess it was dirty money—blood money—no matter what his answer would be.

“Because you want to secure your spot on that pedestal?”

Kenna fisted her hands on her knees and tried to be calm. Maizie and Stairns were captive because of her.

Like Jax had been. And now he was injured as a result.

With Jax she’d been thinking that she’d put him in this position—being here in Mexico. A good man, brought low because of her actions and choices. The great divide between him as a federal agent and a devout man who did the right thing.

And then there was Kenna with her tendency to hunker down when things got heavy. To retreat to her solitude. Focus on the job, and the things she could doaloneto make the world a better place.

Helping the FBI hadn’t done her any favors.

Trying to speak the truth only landed them here.

Right before she’d left, Kenna had checked on Stairns and Maizie one last time. Stairns had told her not to worry.

I’ve got this, Kenna. Do what you have to and don’t worry about us.

Both of them knew it wasn’t like she could switch off worry any more than he could. But knowing he was there to stand between Maizie and anyone who came at her made the world of difference to Kenna’s peace of mind right now.

Ramon shifted in his seat, the way cops did after hours of surveillance. “There it is.”

A boat piloted into the harbor, one man at the helm and another two armed with rifles on the bow. They pulled into an empty slip, and one man jumped out. Once they had the boat secured, they started to carry big duffel bags to a waiting semitruck in the parking lot, close to the end where the slips were. Ramon had parked them on the opposite side.

“There a reason we’re so far away?” she asked, not taking her attention from the men loading up the truck. One watching for anyone in case they approached. They knew what they were doing enough this was going fast. No one wanted to hang around where they were vulnerable, focused on loading up rather than protecting all the money.

Navarro’s ill-gotten gains.

All the while, the wind and rain hammered around them. It was like they didn’t notice.

“Are you going to ask questions the whole time?” Ramon muttered under his breath. “It is what it is. Just cool your jets.”

She pressed her lips together and watched. Navarro had told them to escort the money and make sure it got back to him—that was all. But she’d figured they would be closer to what was happening than this.

The fire in her middle she’d been nursing since she first woke up in Mexico hadn’t gone anywhere. But why wouldn’t she be spitting mad? She was perfectly within her rights to be downright angry at all of this. And why should she keep quiet about any of it when she just kept getting dragged back into things?

Her friends’ lives in danger.

Her life in danger.

Coerced into breaking the law in ways that could land her in serious trouble if she didn’t keep things tight. The last thing she wanted was to be implicated in other crimes. To have to testify for even more things, or even face a legal battle.

Kenna was going to have to find a lawyer soon enough, but where did she find one she actually trusted? She’d seen so much corruption lately she needed someone either she knew, or her friends trusted.

The man on lookout tensed, said something to his friends, and readied his weapon. The muzzle flashed several times, the gunshots muted through the car so that she only heard the dampened sound of it. Still, she flinched.

From the other end of the parking lot, a group all in tactical gear raced across the lot.

“Feds?” Kenna said. They kind of looked like it, but she wasn’t sure the way they moved correlated. The FBI taught tactics for raids. This seemed more like a swarm.

Ramon huffed. “Figures. Did you call them?”

“With what phone?”

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