Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Across town, on a residential street, Jax strode down the sidewalk toward Lieutenant Ryson. Surrounded by a group of cops in tactical gear, mostly SWAT officers, he was currently on the phone.
Ryson spotted him, and the shift in his body language drew the attention of the other officers. He said something into his phone, then hung up. “We have it. Let’s go.”
One of the officers in SWAT gear held up a hand to stay Jax’s approach. He put a hand on a rifle that was currently clipped to his vest. “Sir—”
“He’s with us, Simmons.” Ryson motioned for Jax to go with him. “Everyone, move into position.”
Ryson didn’t give Jax much chance to catch up, so Jax picked up his pace and jogged the last few paces on the salted sidewalk. The grit crunched under his boots. He’d double-layered his shirt with base-layer thermals and stuck with a thinner long-sleeve outer layer, with a protective vest over it.
Part of him would still rather be wearing a badge, but Jax loved this life.
Ryson fast walked to the few cops who’d hunkered down where they could see the front door of the house.
“You got the warrant squared away?” Jax asked him.
Ryson nodded. “Soon as the judge found out Ellayna called your wife, he signed it. This guy had her into something she never should have been into. I mean, interviewing a twelve-year-old for his podcast? Talk about sick.”
Jax said, “We don’t even know for sure if this is the guy, but it’s looking pretty good. Wallace Lofton has an online account at this site that’s like a dark web eBay. He buys and sells mementos from crime scenes. The more gruesome, the better.”
Ryson looked like he wanted to hurl. “And he might have the whole family, including a toddler, in there?”
Jax nodded with his lips pressed together.
“Kenna okay? I figured she’d be here.”
“She’s fine.” Jax prayed that the girl would answer the phone, even if Maizie said it wasn’t pinging off any cell towers. “Probably trying to track Ellayna.”
“How’s that work if Zeyla found the kid’s phone under the bed?” Ryson scanned the house, not once looking at Jax.
For the operation to succeed, neither of them could afford to miss something if it happened. “She was calling from a different phone. A burner.”
Ryson said, “All right.” He lifted a radio to his mouth. “All positions, move in.”
Jax drew his weapon.
Ryson glanced at it. “Don’t discharge that unless you have to. Even if I have a chief who told me to give you carte blanche access to anything you want.”
He might regret letting Jax know that. After all, if he wanted to, he could leverage Ryson’s position and force his hand to get something the lieutenant didn’t want to give him.
Cops streamed across the front yard, and a small team of officers—one of whom had a battering ram—approached the door. They were inside in less than a minute, storming the house.
“Hey.”
Jax glanced over his shoulder and spotted Zeyla approaching, wearing her usual black jeans and sweater, but with a jacket over it and no hat or gloves. Her nose was red.
Jax said, “Hang back until they clear it.”
She nodded but still followed behind him to the front door. “Is it weird that I want them to be in there as much as I don’t want them to be in there?”
“I’d rather they’d never been taken in the first place.” Jax stepped up onto the front stoop, beside which someone had taped a now-faded No Soliciting sign. “But that’s not real life.”
Inside, he could hear the police yelling, clearing rooms as they went.
Jax heard enough that he stepped inside. “Where have you been?”
She shrugged. “Around.”
He hadn’t seen her much since the family dinner at the Rysons’. “Have you heard from Ramon at all?”
She shook her head, looking like she was trying to convince him it wasn’t a big deal. There was no indication she cared that Ramon was currently AWOL, doing whatever with Bear and his team.
Besides, they all had more important things to do here.
A younger officer circled back to the front entry. Blond hair shaved tight on the sides, slightly longer on top. Light blue eyes. “The lieutenant said to join him. Down the hall.” The guy caught sight of Zeyla and blinked, standing there dumbstruck.
Jax heard her snort under her breath. He didn’t blame the guy, though. She had that warrior-princess thing going on, a little edgier than Kenna. An air of danger that some guys liked. This guy didn’t know who she was or why she was at an active scene. All of it made her that much more interesting.
Jax headed down the hall toward the gathering of cops at a doorway. “Ryson!”
“In here,” he called back.
Ryson was on the other side of the hall, opposite the gathering of cops, alone in the room with the suspect’s things.
Jax asked, “What’s going on?”
“Artwork.” Ryson shook his head. “Clear it out, guys!”
Then he went back to the dresser drawers, while a bunch of “Yes, Lieutenant!” calls echoed across the hall.
Jax realized the officer had come with Zeyla into the room. She stood by the door with her arms folded.
“I’m Officer Bridget, what’s your name?”
Jax turned away from him. “This is the bedroom?” Bit of an obvious observation, given the bed. “What’s across the hall?”
“Another bedroom, but it belongs to someone older. Or it used to. The bed is empty, but there’s a depression and enough pill bottles and stuff you’d find in a hospital room that I figure the guy had an older family member he was taking care of.”
“So this is Wallace’s room.” Jax walked to the closet and slid the door open. “Whoa.” He stepped back and took in the row of rifles leaning against the wall. Handguns on the shelf. Boxes of ammo. “Was this guy looking to start a war?”
Zeyla came over and stared at the guns, muttering to herself. He caught the word “Russian,” so he said, “You recognize some of these?”
“Cheap, Eastern European knockoffs. Half of them probably misfire the first time you squeeze the trigger. Some collectors think they’re interesting enough to buy and sell, as if they’re collectibles.” She shrugged. “They just aren’t the usual American-made stuff. It’s more novelty.”
“Or because they’re so different, they look scary.” Officer Bridget peered between Zeyla and Jax.
They both turned to look at him.
Bridget nearly flinched but stood his ground. “I mean, when you’re waving it around, that is.”
Jax left them to it, glancing at the interesting artwork in the hospital room—a mannequin dressed like a showgirl in the corner. Except someone had stabbed her in the heart.
He kept going, looking for… He wasn’t sure what, but it beat standing around or going through drawers. Maybe he had a computer. Recording equipment for his podcast.
Or did Wallace Lofton rent another location to do the recordings?
Did he have a basement or a storage unit?
That could be where they might find Crystal, Ellayna, and Abe.
Living room. Kitchen. Even the detached garage on the side of the yard, and the shed out back. Jax walked through all of it, moving fast. Clearing it in his own way. And, if he wanted to admit it, bleeding off some of the tension of not knowing what would happen next with Kenna.
Worrying that the baby, and his wife, might not be fine. Anything could go wrong during a pregnancy, and the chance went up during labor astronomically. Not that he’d done an internet search on statistics or anything.
Still, the point was to not let her know that he was terrified of what could happen. The point was to create a calm, relaxing environment so that their daughter stayed put for as long as she needed. With the best chance to be born healthy.
He strode out of the shed and looked at the house, breathing hard. Hands on his hips.
Trying to figure out how he was going to be calm and supportive when there were so many things he had no control over that might go wrong. Jax could do everything in his power to make sure it all turned out okay, but anything could happen.
He could lose it all.
Zeyla stepped out of the back door. Ryson followed her, and they met him in the middle of the yard. Grass crunched under his feet. “Did we find anything?” Otherwise, this trip had been for nothing. “Anything at all?”
Zeyla folded her arms. “The guy is probably dead because he was a loose end, and whoever took them is going to get away with it. If they’re even still alive.”
Jax and Ryson both turned to her.
“You asked.” She shrugged, which hunched her shoulders. “I thought we were free to give our opinions.”
Ryson said, “We have no idea where he is or if he knew about them being taken. He isn’t here, and neither are they. That’s the bottom line.”
“So you keep searching. All-points bulletin.” Kind of like Kenna trying that phone number over and over again. A futile exercise, but at least it made her feel better. A little, anyway.
Ryson nodded. “And we loop in the FBI. Get all the available people we can looking for Lofton and that family.”
Jax nodded. “No phone or computer?”
“Correct,” Ryson said.
“No secret rooms, or hidey-holes?” Zeyla asked.
“Not that we found.” The corner of Ryson’s lip twitched, but he didn’t smile.
Jax was glad, given that there was nothing funny about this situation. “But we have the number Ellayna called Kenna from, and we can track Lofton’s credit cards, online activity, and his phone.”
Ryson nodded. “Correct again.”
“Assuming it wasn’t a prerecorded message on the phone.” Jax hated the implication as soon as he said it. “All we have is one body and now four missing people.”
“Lofton will turn up. No way a guy like this is smart enough to disappear a family with no trace.” Zeyla shook her head.
“He’s low-level. A nuisance. The goal was for him to draw attention to Ellayna.
Probably so that Kenna would come here. Meanwhile, they take Ellayna, her mother, and her brother, and no one has a clue how or when or where they are. ”
“They?” Ryson asked.
Zeyla stared at Jax, as if willing him to argue with her. “You know this has Dominatus written all over it.”
He didn’t want to say that aloud. Not to civilians or people he cared about that could get caught in the cross fire. But life didn’t often go as he planned.
“The group that you guys took down?” Ryson asked. “The task force with the president. You caught the guy, right? That General…whoever.”
“Schnell.” Jax muttered the word.
“They aren’t gone,” Zeyla told him. “They did this, and you know it.”
She turned and walked away, and when she reached the patio, she kicked a metal watering can across the lawn.
“There’s more than just one general?” Ryson asked. When Jax nodded, he asked, “What’s your next move if you are hunting for more of those sickos?”
He knew what he wanted to do, and it wasn’t what he had to do.
“I need to make a phone call.”