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Chapter Twenty-One

“ W hat’s that saying?” Gregorio watched the four from the retirement home approach as a pack. “Misery acquaints a man?—”

Kenna finished for him. “—with strange bedfellows.”

Gregorio eyed her. In the dim light of two in the morning, between streetlights, she couldn’t exactly make out the look on his face. Maybe she’d impressed him by knowing that Shakespeare quote, but she wouldn’t count on it. His head tipped to the side. “Bulletproof vests?”

Jax shifted beside her, his shoulder against hers like a united front. “We don’t take chances.”

His vest didn’t have FBI on the front because this wasn’t precisely a sanctioned operation. They were going to break into this house. No one had said that aloud, but she’d done jobs like this often enough to know what was likely going to happen.

There wasn’t much that could surprise her after everything she’d seen.

Even here in Scottsdale, though in a different fancy neighborhood.

She needed to find out if Jax or Maizie, or even Ramon, had discovered what happened to the little girl the Rosenburgs had been holding in a locked room.

A little girl who had the potential to grow up and cause all kinds of serious havoc, but it was only instinct that gave Kenna that impression.

The kind of instinct that said Kenna might be hunting her in ten years.

There wasn’t much she could do until the girl actually committed a crime.

It was the kind of scenario that kept her awake at night.

They’d congregated down the street in front of a house with a For Sale sign on the front lawn.

Even the sign was fancy, with a wood frame and everything.

The whole neighborhood of houses set back in the hills were mansions, really.

The kind of Scottsdale houses lived in by multimillionaires, with a security guard on the front gate and no access for the riffraff.

Just the country club dues and a Lexus in the garage beside the BMW.

One didn’t stop. “Let’s do this.” He walked right by her and Jax, Gregorio and his guys, and led his team to the house about a quarter mile down the street.

Maizie had caused an internet outage in the area.

No matter the network—cellular or local provider—no one in the neighborhood had signal.

That should keep them from being caught on camera.

She stuck beside Jax with her weapon holstered in the back of her belt.

Hopefully, she didn’t have to use it here.

The point was to keep these men, these strange bedfellows, from killing each other.

A tenuous alliance at best, but they had to maintain the balance until they could go their separate ways.

Whatever their history, it didn’t mean they had to coexist.

“Good?” Jax glanced over.

She nodded. “Maizie said the same corporation that worked with Fleming and her business partner owns this house and a whole lot of property in the city and out in the middle of nowhere. Those long stretches on either side of the highway where there’s just miles and miles of nothing. She’s looking at everything.”

Jax brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “As soon as this is figured out, we’ll jump in the RV and go find us some nothing.”

She smiled. “Thanks.”

“You’ve given up a lot to live with me. I probably don’t say thank you enough.”

“It’s less than you think.” She reached over and squeezed his hand. “And the trade-off has been more than worth it.”

“I just don’t like that this Buzard guy seems to have been living here and operating whatever he’s doing for years, maybe even decades.”

They walked together, cutting the corner to cross the lawn in front of the house.

No lights on. None on the neighbors’ houses either, though she saw a couple of flashlights or lanterns in windows.

The house had a main structure, two stories, and a wing on the right with four garage doors on the side of the house.

No water in the fountain in the middle of the drive.

The place reminded her of that resort she’d been to with Jax, where Preston had been shot.

Maybe in the long term, she was going to start to dislike Arizona.

It seemed like a lot of things she’d uncovered had been here or near to it.

Could be it was the best place for Jax to do his job, though.

After all, for the cases they worked, the bureau brought justice and truth where there wouldn’t be any without them.

Maybe this area could use all the help it could get.

But then, was it really worse than anywhere else?

People pretended they were civilized. Or that neighborhoods were “safe” or that towns had low crime. Sometimes, it seemed like a moral high ground folks lived on to make themselves feel safe. Or better than those who lived in dangerous, high-crime areas.

Nowhere, no person, was immune to the effect of sin in the world.

Jax continued, “It’s just making me think about how I got my job here. Seems a little coincidental that you met this doctor guy in Colorado, or Wyoming, and he lives in the same city we do.”

Kenna winced. “You think it was orchestrated? That Buzard wanted me, or us, here? Your promotion happened months before we even knew Dominatus existed.”

One of the retired guys whipped his head around—Three.

“What?” Kenna shrugged. “I’m not afraid to say the name, and you know it. Maybe you should have some courage. Fight back.”

“I had a friend who thought the same.”

“Good for him.”

“Sure, because they killed him. Two doesn’t have to worry about any of this anymore.

He’s free.” Three turned to the door, did something she couldn’t see, and managed to somehow bump the door open.

Or jog the lock loose. Odd, but he stepped aside and held the door open.

“Ladies first?” Except for the sneer on his face, that might’ve been a nice sentiment.

She shook her head. “Not on your life.”

One chuckled and started to go in. Gregorio and his guys had gone around the back entrance. The older men from the retirement home—One, Three, Four, and Five—all had no vests and no weapons, but One pulled out a handheld device.

“What is that?”

“Thermal imaging. So we can see if there’s anyone in the house.”

They stepped into an expansive dark lobby where her footsteps echoed up to the ceiling.

She followed him down the hall with Jax’s hand on her shoulder so they could keep track of each other in the dark.

When they were deep enough into the house, she flipped on a small flashlight that shouldn’t be seen by anyone from outside.

She shone it around the dark wood paneling on the walls and the huge canvas paintings. “This is where you came for treatment?”

There probably wouldn’t be anyone on that scanner.

The house remained quiet, and his screen didn’t show any hotspots.

The only people he was likely to see were Gregorio and his guys.

Maizie had seen an outbuilding, like a pool house, on the listing for the house online, so they were going to check that out before coming inside.

“This is where we always come,” Three said. “If he finds out we’re here when we weren’t asked to…”

“I appreciate you helping me. I told those kids they were safe with the police, but it wasn’t true. Wherever they are, they need help.”

Three said nothing.

Which made her wonder if that was why they were doing this or if Three’s concern for his daughter Dana had him here trying to find her best friend.

“We should check for a basement that isn’t obvious. Or hidden rooms.” There had been quite a lot of those in her life recently, and most of it had to do with Dominatus .

“What about spooky attics?” Three asked. “Is that on your list?”

“If it is, you’re going up there.”

Jax squeezed her hand, and she heard a quiet chuckle.

“Still nothing on this thing,” One said. “Everyone, split up. Go through every room.”

Jax said, “Kenna and I will head upstairs.”

He led her back to the bottom of the staircase that wrapped around a plant or some kind of tall artwork that stretched from the ground floor up two stories in the small space between flights of stairs. If she touched it, would it clank together, or would she accidentally knock it over?

Three followed them.

She spotted him on the turn between floors, unsure if he was sticking with them to back them up or for another, more nefarious, reason. “In which room did you receive your treatment?”

“Up here.” He motioned up the stairs. “I’ll show you.”

“And his staff?”

“Wearing old-timey medical outfits.”

“And creepy white masks?”

His footsteps faltered. “How did you know?”

“Because I’ve seen them. These people take whoever they want. They do whatever they want.” And they were currently ruining her happily ever after.

Jax stopped at the top of the stairs and turned to her, swiveling his head around. Protecting her. Okay, so maybe her life wasn’t being ruined , but that didn’t mean she had to like what was happening.

Three caught up to her and reached the top at the same time as she did. “What do you mean, ‘these people’?”

Jax moved them all away from the edge of the stairs.

She said, “ Dominatus. Buzard works for them, and they’re probably the reason he’s doing all this.

Some part of their master plan means they need people who are souped-up…

or whatever he did to us.” A lot of that was conjecture, but why make her stronger if he didn’t intend to use her for something? “Did he make your bones denser?”

Three headed down the hall, not answering her question. At the end, he spread wide a set of double doors and stepped into the room. “He did a lot of things. Experimenting. Working out the kinks of his genetic research, finding new ways to solve the problems his procedures created.”

He stepped into the room, which had a row of empty medical beds. Darkened screens on all the monitors. Big plastic sheets had been set up around the beds so each one could be temperature controlled—the patient zippered in a small plastic room and kept apart from the others.

Three continued, “In the beginning, there were nine of us.”

Words sat on the tip of her tongue but never emerged.

Would he be on board for taking down the doctor?

The lawyers she’d met were all in for it.

Their fight was about getting someone to testify to what he’d done.

Three might have evidence. The weight of all of them testifying could force a judge to rule against Marcus Buzard. He would be shut down for good.

But those lawyers were also intertwined with other parts of this investigation, in ways she didn’t fully understand yet. She’d have said she trusted them before. Right now, she wasn’t so sure.

“If we bring down Buzard, he leads us to the larger group—to the people he works for. An organization that thinks they run the world.” Kenna probably couldn’t fight them alone. “If we work together, we can bring them down.”

“Doctor Marcus Buzard doesn’t work for anyone.”

She frowned, partly aware of Jax circling the room and looking at everything. “What do you mean? The Dominatus run the show here, like they run it everywhere. They kidnapped me in Colorado just a few months ago, and Buzard was there. He was working for them.”

“He doesn’t work for them here.”

“The whole reason I’m on his radar is because of them. Because my family dedicated their lives to taking them all down.” And doing so had nearly cost them everything. “Buzard knows about me because of them. It has to be why he did this to me.”

Three shrugged. “I only know what I know. He might be scared of them, but they don’t have a say in what he does here. This place—the whole operation in Arizona—is about what he wants.”

“And what is that?”

“I wish I knew. But not knowing is probably why I’m still alive.” Three turned away and walked to a wall, sliding back a panel that revealed a window. He stared out.

She needed him to keep explaining this to her. “Three?—”

Jax cut her off. “I heard something. Stay quiet for a second.”

A moment later, she heard it as well. “Sounds like a footstep.”

Three didn’t turn from the window.

Jax asked, “Are there any other rooms off this one or passageways?”

He didn’t answer.

Kenna strode to him, tugging around his shoulder. “This is the world you want Dana to live in? Or do you want to do some good, make it a whole lot safer for her because you took down this evil?”

“If he dies, I die.”

“Because of some kind of failsafe device he put in you both, or because you won’t get your treatments? Assuming you aren’t just being esoteric?”

Three said, “We need the treatments, or we die. And so do you.”

She sucked in a breath.

“Both of you need to put that aside for a second and help me figure out who else is here.” Jax’s steady tone birthed a steadiness in her.

She latched onto it, thanking God for providing this man to be in her life. Praying they would get through this. “Come on.” She tugged Three over to Jax.

“There’s someone behind this wall.” Jax shone his flashlight through the dark, cutting it with a beam that chased away the shadows.

“It’s a storage closet.” Three pushed on the wall, his fingers splayed.

He stepped to the side and pushed again.

A latch was released, and the panel slid to the side.

He shoved it more, pushing it into the wall so the opening revealed the closet inside.

Rows of shelves stacked with medical supplies.

In the center, a man sat on a chair.

Jax moved the beam from his canvas shoes, up the man’s scrub pants to a scrub shirt. Gooseflesh rose on the man’s bare arms below the sleeves, wrinkled with age and pale as if he hadn’t seen the sun in a long time.

He shifted the flashlight up to the man’s face. Gaunt from malnutrition, his eye sockets seemed sunk into his face. Where his eyes should have been, scar tissue covered the space—as if his eyes had been removed or the lids were sewn shut.

His mouth opened, and he sucked in air.

Three pulled his gun and leveled it at the man.

Kenna shoved him to the side. “Don’t!”

The gun went off, the shot going wild. It hit a gallon container of liquid, which started to pour out onto the floor. The man in the chair screamed.

She didn’t let go of Three. “Don’t shoot him!”

“I recognize him.” Jax took a step into the room.

Kenna shoved Three’s gun down. “Holster that weapon.”

Jax stopped in front of the man. “Special Agent Walter Collins?”

Kenna gasped. The missing FBI agent from the cold case?

He was here.