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“Keep going. Finish the sweep.”
His calm allowed her to take a deep breath and continue. Kenna kicked the next door open. It fell off the hinges into the room.
“Huh.”
She walked by it to the next one and did the same. It felt good to vent some of her frustration. This door didn’t fall in, it just swung open.
Inside, Jennifer Rayland held a knife to Forrest’s throat.
Kenna registered the blade, then the fact Forrest was tied to a chair. “Drop it.” She moved into the room while Jax covered her and the hall. Then trained her gun on the doctor. “Drop it now, Jennifer, or I’ll shoot.”
Forrest whimpered.
“It’s over. Put it down.”
Jennifer’s face twisted with anger. “I’ll kill her!”
“No, you won’t. You’re not the hands-on type.” Kenna paused. “There’s still a chance to argue with the judge that you’ve never taken a life with your own hands. That you had the chance to, but chose not to. Because something in you knows it’s wrong.”
Her expression faltered.
Forrest stared, wide-eyed, breathing hard.
“Don’t jump from poison to this.”
Even though there was no way she would get a reduced sentence. She’d killed a list of people at best, one of whom had been her own son. Not doing this would be a good thing—but probably wouldn’t play in her favor in the long run.
“Put the knife down, doc. You’re better than the savagery of it.” Kenna stepped all the way into the kidnapper’s space.
Dr. Rayland backed up around the chair.
The movement eased something in Kenna, but she didn’t lower her weapon—she kept coming.
Rayland took another step back, then launched at Kenna. Swung down with the knife.
Kenna planted her foot and swiped at the forearm coming down, cutting it off and shoving the knife aside before it could make contact with her. She leaned on her left leg and swung her right knee up. Caught Rayland in the stomach.
The other woman doubled over. Kenna hit the forearmwith her gun hand, and her wrist smacked Rayland’s arm. She dropped the gun.
Pain tore through Kenna’s arm enough she couldn’t keep herself from crying out. She dropped her gun, and Jax said, “Got it.”
Kenna got the kidnapper face-first on the floor and pulled her arms behind her back. Jax kicked her gun over, and she slid it in the holster on the front of her vest.
“Let’s get you free.” He tossed some zip ties on the floor by Kenna, and she secured Dr. Rayland’s hands. It wasn’t easy, but it would’ve been impossible if her wrist was broken.
That was good news.
When she had Dr. Rayland’s hands secured and she’d checked the woman for weapons, she turned her around. “Stan Tilley was here. Where is he?”
Dr. Rayland lifted her chin. Midfifties, she had some age lines, but she’d kept up her skin regimen and maybe even sprung for the more expensive stuff. Not that beauty products weren’t pricey enough already. She’d made an effort to be noticed, but not stand out.
After all, she was just the town psychologist. Not a famous person.
“Who?” She stared at Kenna, her nose a little too perfect.
“Stan,” Kenna repeated.
“Oh, you mean the man who locked us in here?”