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“No.”
“Now I know why Maizie has you take photos so she can see them right away. I need you to describe the whole scene to me.” Jax sounded frustrated, and she didn’t blame him.
It was late, Kenna was dragging, and her head hadn’t quit pounding. She let out a sigh he would hear over the phone line.
“Fine. Get it done fast, and get home so you can sleep.”
She smiled to herself and flipped the latches on the small case. “Whoa.” Before Jax could ask—and since Rayland poked his head out of the bathroom—she said, “At least two handguns. Pistols. He’s got a revolver. Extra magazines. Extra bullets for all of them. Three tactical knives and a cutout inthe foam for who-knows-what.” She paused. “I’m not sure I want to ask, but it would fit a grenade.”
Jax said, “Fits, since he’s a pro.”
Rayland wandered over to look. “I’ll log it all and get it back to the station.”
She opened the long flat case, part of her hoping it was an electric guitar, but no luck on that. “Sniper rifle.” And a nice one. “This guy makes serious money. His gear is top-notch.”
“That doesn’t bode well.”
“But he’s taking photos of me? He should’ve just squeezed off a shot and put a bullet between my eyes. Game over.”
Rayland turned around, his face pale. “What? This is the guy who tackled you, right? The old man?”
Kenna straightened. “He’s here working for a serial killer. Taking photos of me, so they can try and draw me into coming afterEl Caminante.But why do that if they can just eliminate the problem?”
“Because you’re not a problem they need to get rid of.”
She frowned at Jax’s statement while Rayland pulled out his phone and called the sheriff. Then wandered to the bathroom. “I don’t like games.”
“Yeah, no kidding.”
“Why doesn’t he just come here and face me himself?”
Jax said, “And we’ve arrived at the point the Walker and I agree on.”
“That he and I should have a showdown?”
“We both want you to come to San Diego so we can see you.” Before she could figure out what to say in response, he continued, “Just for different reasons.”
“Sorry.” She didn’t like that he felt even a slight note of kindred spirits with a killer.
“I put the request in to come to Wisconsin and detain Stan Tilley to bring him back to California.”
Not if I find him first.“I have some questions for him myself.” Kenna stepped out of the bathroom, but Rayland probably thought she’d been talking to herself. Or praying. But she didn’t want to lie and pretend she was more spiritual than she actually was. That wouldn’t be good.
“I’d offer to interrogate him together, but…”
“Yeah.” Kenna continued wandering around the room, wishing she could haul drawers open and shove stuff aside in a hurry. If Stan Tilley had been in here, they could have arrested him already. She could’ve escorted him back to California—or to the closest FBI office so he could be extradited between states. But he was still out there.
And from the look of this room, highly dangerous.
“We have to assume he’s stocked up with weapons,” she added. “Wherever he is.”
“So the BOLO saysarmed and dangerous,” Rayland said. “That’s what I told the dispatcher to report. The night shift deputy is headed here to help out and she’s passing the BOLO to the state police.”
Her hands might be tied while the police did their thing, but she would still be actively looking for leads. “The sooner we catch this guy, the better.”
“Almost sounds like you don’t want me to come there,” Jax said.
Kenna lifted her brows to Rayland. “Given all this gear, he’s highly trained. Someone could get seriously hurt—or a lot of people.”