Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Washington, DC, Federal Courthouse
Present Day
“The sheriff’s office burned down, and he didn’t make it. Because people like Sheriff Joe Don Hunter might not always do the right thing. But when it counts, they don’t let others suffer. They stick their necks out for people because a life—any life—has value.”
Hasworth, the US attorney prosecuting this case, stood up from her perch on the edge of the table. “Is that what your team does? You pick and choose who to save. Judge, jury, and executioner. Is that it?”
Kenna reached for the water glass on the little shelf in the witness stand with her. She didn’t want to look at the defendant. The fact that she wasn’t the one on trial was a minor miracle. But how could she thank God for small things like that when this was what her life had turned into?
Everything she’d thought she was about had been turned upside down. Kind of like this court case that made no sense. All the rules had gone out the window.
“No,” Kenna said. “That isn’t it.”
Hasworth lifted a hand and held it out, as if motioning for Kenna to continue. “We’re all here until your testimony is concluded. But I can’t help thinking that you’re stalling for time. That certainly seems like something you would do.”
“I’m not dragging this story out. The case requires context, and I have to give that to the court, or the jury cannot possibly make an unbiased decision. None of us can until we see all the sides.”
She would love for the door to open, and someone she considered family to bust in like Aragorn at Helm’s Deep and rescue her. But that wasn’t what was going to happen.
“Where were we?” Hasworth asked.
On the same side, or so I thought. “Bishopsville. It’s a town in northern California.”
“Right, of course.”
“Joe Don Hunter was a family friend. I lost him like I’ve lost so many others to these people.
” She took a deep cleansing breath. “I didn’t know then what I know now.
That it was all connected to Dominatus. The town was in the grip of people who exploit others for money.
I followed the trail and rescued who I could, but Sheriff Hunter paid the price.
So, no, I don’t save the people I deem worthy.
I do what I can for everyone. Especially people I care about. ”
“But there was bad blood between him and your father, specifically over how your mother died. Isn’t that correct?”
Kenna said, “I doubt you want to get into that. It’s a sticky web that even I don’t know how to untangle.
” She shook her head. “I found an autopsy in a safe in Joe Don’s cabin.
I still have no idea who that woman was or how she connected to anything.
All I know is that my ‘mother,’ or the woman I consider to be my mother, isn’t dead.
She’s been fighting against Dominatus for longer than anyone.
Her name is Amara. And again, it’s complicated. ” Kenna shrugged. “Go figure.”
Someone in the jury snickered, but Kenna didn’t look to see who it was.
Kenna glanced at the judge. “I’ll do my best to stay on topic so as not to waste the court’s time.”
He nodded, and mostly, she figured none of them had the energy to argue. “You have some time, then we’ll be recessing until tomorrow. You can continue your story then.”
“Thank you, Your Honor.”
The judge said, “After that, the defense will no doubt be ready to cross-examine you.”
One of the men behind that table rose halfway, smoothing down his tie. “We will, Your Honor.” Given the look in his eye, he’d already thought of an angle. It matched the smug look in the defendant’s expression.
Great. She wasn’t on trial, but her family wasn’t innocent. Not by any stretch.
“Continue, please, Mrs. Jaxton.” The judge leaned back in his chair, and it creaked. “But keep it to the relevant highlights. We don’t want to be here until Christmas.”
Kenna nodded. “We managed to tie the exploitation in Bishopsville to a group who had a stranglehold on the town of Hatchet, New Mexico.”
“We?” Hasworth asked. “Please clarify for the court who you’re referring to.”
Could she say it? The wound was too raw.
“I didn’t know it at the time, but Maizie was helping me.”
“Your adopted daughter, Maizie Smith. Sometimes referred to as Maizie Jaxton or Maizie Morrow.” Hasworth flipped over a page in a file on the prosecution table. “Is that correct?”
“That’s correct.” Kenna swallowed against the lump in her throat.
“Even back then, she was feeding me information. Connecting the dots for me.” She’d nearly said “us,” but it was really only Kenna and Cabot, her dog, in those days.
Then Jax had joined her, and they’d faced a dangerous killer together—the kind of person who had money behind them.
Enough to renovate an entire floor in a hotel.
She should’ve known then that it was all different factions within Dominatus. That everything she had faced back then was all about drawing her into their web and controlling what she learned. Where she went.
Testing her mettle.
“Maizie was helping me fight for the people destroyed in the wake of what Dominatus was doing.”
Kenna had done what she’d done to keep her family safe in a way that was permanent. But they would never be able to walk away from this.
By the time they realized they were in too deep, it had been much too late to get out.
“People like the FBI director, is that right?” Hasworth asked the planned question. Because they knew it would come up, and the US attorney wanted to get ahead of it.
“That’s right,” Kenna said. “The FBI director attacked me, and I had no choice but to use lethal force to defend myself.”
“And in doing so, you saved a young girl from the worst kind of situation.”
The defense attorney shot up. “Objection. Relevance.”
“Sustained,” the judge ruled.