Page 20

Chapter Twenty

A mara turned to look out the window. “A rest stop?”

Kenna sat beside her on the back seat. They’d circled around, and Bruce had jumped in his vehicle, thankfully remaining behind them. For the sake of speed, they’d taken Amara’s advice and dumped the other woman in the trunk of the car.

“Good place to talk and no one will look twice at us,” Kenna said.

In the parking spot next to them, Bruce shoved the driver’s door open and got out. She saw a gun in his waistband for a second before he moved his jacket to cover it.

Langford had called twice, but Kenna didn’t answer. She sent the detective a text now and told her she’d connect later about Chief Hadley’s death but was working a lead right now.

The detective probably wasn’t happy with that answer.

Kenna got out, motioning for Amara to slide over to her. “Come this way.”

Her mother—because she’d always thought of this woman that way, even if she’d been dead all these years—didn’t say anything. They went to the front entrance of the diner. A semi honked its horn, passing the rest stop but not pulling in. The parking lot had a line of semis and RVs, cars in rows, trucks and SUVs pulling vacation trailers. Families. Singles. The place bustled with people.

“Hopefully, we’ll get a table.”

Amara stopped by the door, flushed and a little rumpled but otherwise fine. “I’ll talk to you, but your friends aren’t part of our business.”

Kenna held the door and glanced at Stairns who waved off any concern she might’ve had. He said, “We’ll be close, and we’ll keep an eye on the trunk. Make sure we don’t lose anything.”

The hostess took them to a table by the window, and Stairns and Bruce to the one behind it. Amara slid in, her chin up. Looking like the lady of the manor, which wasn’t really necessary in a place where half the people in the restaurant had recently showered in the gas station next door. Who would sleep tonight in the cab of their vehicle and didn’t mind that the coffee smelled burned.

Kenna ordered a plate that came with two eggs, bacon, potatoes covered in country gravy, and a slice of toast on the side—not that she would eat the toast. Amara asked for oatmeal.

“The woman you picked up? She killed her husband earlier today. Tied him to a chair and tortured him.” Kenna took a sip of coffee, then added another little half-and-half pod to it.

“She’s a means to an end, that’s all you need to know.”

“I get that you don’t want me in your business, but you’re not seeing that we could help each other.”

Amara said, “You think I’m going to sign up for your team? I’ve been doing this alone for nearly three decades.”

“Yeah. Me, too.” She tried not to get irritated. “Only I thought you were dead, and there was no hope I’d ever see you. Turned out you just didn’t want to see me.”

Amara took a sip from the water glass on the table. “There’s no point in dwelling on the past. It was impossible for me to see you. Much easier for you to believe I was dead.”

That was her justification? “Dad saw you. Why was that not too much of a risk?”

“I never would have seen him. I’d have continued to let him believe I was dead.” Amara glanced at the car, and the trunk that remained closed. “Only he figured out the truth.”

Kenna stared at her.

Of course, her father had looked into it, refused to believe what he was told. Chased down the answers he needed.

Amara said, “I refused to see him if he told you I was alive, so he kept it from you, and we only saw each other a few times. It’s not like we had some lengthy sordid relationship.”

“I don’t think it’s sordid if you’re married.”

“You know what I mean.”

Kenna sipped her coffee, sat back while the server delivered their plates, and put ketchup on her eggs. She ignored the look Amara gave her. “Why did you show up to pick up Mrs. Hadley? And don’t tell me she is a means to an end.”

Amara took a tiny bite of her oatmeal.

Kenna figured this was a lot like looking in a mirror of what she’d look like at fifty. Tiny silver strands at her temples and a trim figure. But Amara needed to be in peak condition to fight the fight she had spent her life and all her happiness on. Kenna wanted her future to be different—a husband, probably kids—at least eventually—and the ability to rest and let herself be happy with everything God seemed insistent on giving her. The Lord had decided to overwhelm her with the things He gave her. The people, the life she lived. All of it was His blessing after so many years of walking through the wilderness, being lonely. Working cases by herself.

She rubbed a hand over the top of her forearm, creating some friction between her long shirt sleeve and her scar, because the warmth of blood flow helped it to keep healing.

Amara watched her do it, but she said nothing.

The fact she wasn’t curious at all about Kenna’s life hurt a little, she could admit that to herself at least.

“How do you know her?”

“I don’t know Clare Hadley.”

Kenna swallowed a bite of potato. Stairns answered a phone call but spoke low while he ate big chunks of his omelet. “Why did you pick her up?”

“If I want Zeyla back, I’ll have to trade something they want for her. Make an exchange.”

“You’re bargaining?” Kenna set her fork down. “Did they agree?”

“I’m going to make them an offer they can’t refuse.”

How very mafia of her. Kenna said, “Then you probably need both twins.”

Amara frowned. “Twins?”

“There were two of them in the house. One disappeared into a closet, which I assume had some kind of hidden passage. The other is the one we chased out.” Kenna studied her mother. “She didn’t call you for a ride?”

“I was a passing Good Samaritan.”

Hmm. “Would that have lasted long once she figured out you’re one of them?”

“I can convince the younger ones what I need them to believe. It’s why none of them have managed to kill me yet.”

“Good for you.” She tried not to make it sound sarcastic. Kenna really didn’t mean it to be. She was actually glad her mother was still alive and that there was still a chance they could have a relationship. Unless her mother told her in no uncertain terms that there was no chance. “Tell me, is this organ trafficking thing connected to the company?”

“Most likely.” Amara took another bite of her oatmeal.

“Do you know where they moved the operation? They cleared out of the abandoned hospital where Hadley and Zeyla were taken, and the place was destroyed.” She explained about the field of shallow graves.

“The police are identifying all the victims?”

“If one is Zeyla, I’ll make sure her body is released to you.”

“It isn’t.” Amara sniffed. “I would know.”

Kenna pressed her lips together. “Was Zeyla trying to do what I’m doing now and take them down? Did she get herself caught so she can fight back from the inside?”

“I’m certain that was her intention.”

It seemed like maybe some of Amara’s tactics had rubbed off on the daughter she’d had with Malcom Banbury. “Where was she staying?”

“I’ve already looked through her things. There was nothing there.”

“How long has it been since you saw her?”

Amara shrugged one shoulder. “A couple of months, maybe longer. She was working here, and I’ve been on a job in Germany. Trying to do our part to take them down from different angles. It puts both of us in danger to spend too much time together.”

“Because they don’t know she’s your daughter?”

“The way assets are raised…they don’t spend much time with their biological parents. That way, there can be little emotional attachment. I raised her. I made sure of that. But she was in the care of an older woman, a former asset. I trusted her, but the company believed they’d placed Zeyla with Olivette. They had to believe things were above board—the way they wanted them to be.”

“And under the surface, you live your life in a way that weakens what they’re trying to do.”

“You make it sound ineffective. We have dealt serious blows to the company, and they have never discovered it was us. Which is why Zeyla and I remain alive.”

“But if you try to trade one of their assets back to them in exchange for her, it will all be over.”

“She will expect me to not make the trade.” Amara fiddled with her spoon but didn’t take a bite. “To maintain our covers and let her dig herself out of this alone.”

“So why aren’t you?”

“The same reason you refuse to give up hope. I’m not going to abandon her. Not ever.”

Kenna stared at her, wondering about that. It was true that she never gave up hope. She just hadn’t ever thought of it like that. As if she somehow had the ability to be relentlessly hopeful. “I’ve seen what happens when hope dies. I don’t want to feel that. It doesn’t end well.”

“And so you cling to your hope in the face of…everything. That kind of determination is what Zeyla and I bring to the fight against the company. Because we can do nothing else but try to fight them. Try to weaken their operation. One day, we will succeed in taking them down.”

Bruce shifted in his chair. Kenna refocused on Amara. “Why don’t you just tell me where their headquarters is or who is in charge? Give me a list, even. I have people who would work their way down and destroy everyone. Precise, strategic. There would be no company when they’re done.”

Bruce settled in his seat.

Stairns, across the table from him and facing Kenna, didn’t seem to approve. But if Bruce was all in on taking down the company in a way that would mean total destruction with little collateral damage, then she was willing to consider mocking up a plan to get that done.

“I’ll get you a list.”

It was a testament to how she felt about her likelihood of success or how tired she was with the length of time this was taking or her optimism that she would, in fact, get Zeyla back.

Kenna wouldn’t let the moment go. “I can help you. If you let me.”

“And give me more to lose?” She pushed the oatmeal bowl to the end of the table.

“I’ve discovered that even after loss, there’s still far more to gain. It’s a little overwhelming, actually. I thought I was fine living alone in my RV, solving cases by myself. My parents were dead. My fiancé and my baby, my career. Everything I thought I was going to have in my life was gone. I was completely alone, trying to keep my sanity. So, I can understand being desperate to keep what you have. Or not knowing that when you lose things, God can give you back more than you ever dreamed you’d have.”

“You think I’m part of what He gave you?”

Kenna wasn’t going to say what she might be thinking. Not when Amara’s tone sounded like that. “I guess we’ll find out.”

Amara didn’t smile, but a smidge of humor lit her eyes for a second.

“So, you’re taking Clare Hadley? The police will be looking for her. Should I tell them to call you to find out where she is, or do you expect me to lie and say I don’t know whose car she got into?” That would be a risk, given some homeowner around the golf course could’ve seen the crash. “I’m assuming you don’t need help making the trade.”

Part of Kenna quaked inside. What if she went with Amara to make the trade and ended up as one of the traded pieces given to the company? All so her mom could get Zeyla back.

“Maybe they’ll find the twin you mentioned, and she’ll be arrested.” Amara shrugged. “You could help with that, right? Point them in the direction.”

Kenna said, “Why trade one twin when you could offer two?”

“I already have a second asset.”

Kenna bit the inside of her lip.

“Your friend, Roxanne. I caught her last night while you were tussling at the roadhouse, getting that.” She motioned to Kenna’s face with her water glass.

“I caught an elbow,” Kenna said. “You have Roxanne? In your custody?”

Amara shrugged. “She’s going to garner me a whole lot of goodwill when I tell them how thoroughly she screwed up infiltrating the Federal Bureau of Idiots.”

Stairns’ head whipped around from watching the window.

“Easy,” Kenna said. “I was FBI, and so was my father. This family doesn’t disrespect the bureau.” They might not always get along with the feds, but they weren’t going to be disparaging them.

“In answer to your question, yes, I’ll be taking Clare. I’ll trade her and Roxanne to get Zeyla back.”

“I wanna to talk to Roxanne before you do the trade.”

Amara chuckled slightly. “If she had planned to tell you anything, she’d have said it already.”

“Get me that list of names.” She could tell their conversation was coming to an end before Amara shifted in the seat and began to slide toward the end of the bench. “And locations. I want everything you have on the structure of the company and who is in charge of every division.”

“Some things are beyond even my extensive knowledge. It’s why they’ve existed for so long.”

“Give me what you have.”

Amara said, “I’ll need the car keys.”

Stairns shook them.

Amara glanced at Bruce. They exchanged an inscrutable look. She took the keys and went out the door.

“Please tell me we have a tracker on that car.”

Stairns said, “It’s my car.”

“We can follow it?”

He reluctantly nodded. “Maizie set it up. Just in case. Who knew it would be just in case your mom borrowed it?”

Bruce shifted in his seat again.

He’d seemed surprised when she referred to Amara as her mother. Hesitant to acknowledge her now. “You two know each other, Bruce?”

“We met in the woods by the roadhouse.” He cleared his throat. “Last night.”

“That’s why you didn’t show up to help.” Kenna pulled out some cash to leave on the table to cover the bill. “Are you the reason Roxanne got away?”

“Nothing happened. Don’t worry about it.” He headed for the door.

Outside, Amara pulled from the space and drove toward the exit that would get her back on the highway.

Kenna stared after him. “Why does him telling me not to worry fail to fill me with confidence?”

“Because you’re smart, and you have good instincts.” Stairns grinned. “I guess we’re riding back in his truck. Let’s make sure he doesn’t leave without us.”

“I’ll call Maizie so we can find out where she goes.”