Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
Washington, DC, Federal Courthouse
Present Day
“You honestly expect us to believe the Rosenburgs were hiding a child in a secret room?” The lead defense attorney stared at her from behind his table.
Kenna still remembered being in the back hallway of that house in Arizona. Looking through the glass at the child, who was playing with her dolls.
So creepy. That was the only thing she could think right now. How utterly creepy it had been, and how she’d wanted to do something for the child. But who wanted to take on someone else’s responsibility in the middle of a major case?
Back then, she hadn’t believed that a child was in her future.
Now, she was glad that she got to devote all her effort to raising her daughter.
“I saw her, but it wasn’t my job to intervene in her care. They weren’t mistreating her.” In fact, given the child’s…temperament, having on hand care with all the money in the world behind it might have been the best situation possible.
“And where is the child now?” As if that was the point.
Then again, was there a point to all these questions? She’d been trying to give context but they’d gone on several tangents.
“I don’t know where Lydia Rosenburg is.” Kenna was determined not to get ruffled by his attempt to put her off-balance.
“We did look. My associates and I made a concerted effort to discover where the child might have ended up and if she is receiving psychological care. We found nothing. It was as if the child never even existed.”
“But you saw her. You expect us to believe that the FBI agent you’re speaking of, Cecelia Warren, was her mother, and a criminal was her father. And you just happened to see this mysterious child that may or may not even exist.”
Kenna said, “The child’s father wanted her back. He kidnapped a friend of mine and asked that I kidnap the child so we could exchange the two.”
“Yes.” The defense attorney slid on a pair of reading glasses and surveyed papers in an open file on the dark wood table. “Mr. Ramon Santiago. It’s a shame he isn’t here. I had some questions for him as well.”
I’m sure you do. “I’m the one on the stand, aren’t I?” She glanced at the judge, then at the gallery of people. “Ramon isn’t here.”
She fought the well of emotion that rushed up in her.
Walk with me, Lord. She’d drawn from Him so much through this season. Looking for comfort. For peace, even though there was no peace to be had in this situation.
“All this court needs to know is that my associates and I took care of one national conspiracy before. Is it so astounding that we did it again?”
The lawyer stared at her. “The FBI arrested the Rosenburgs and rounded up the family. You weren’t there, as far as I recall. Isn’t that correct?”
“Aren’t I here to testify about something that happened when I wasn’t there?
” Kenna let that question settle in the air between them.
“Over the years, people I care about died. I have to live with that. I have to live with all of it. But you can’t say I didn’t do everything I could to stop Dominatus.
Never mind that, over and over, I tried to get out.
I tried to live my life and have nothing to do with them.
Over and over, they kept dragging me back into it.
Kidnapping me. Hurting people I love. When I found an opportunity to end them, I took it. ”
“We’ll be talking about that, Mrs. Jaxton. Don’t worry. But first, I’d like you to tell me about this man.” The lawyer held up a photo of Preston.
“It’s not like I left him out of the story. I met him in Arizona at the same time I was trying to take down the Rosenburgs.”
“That’s when you discovered Dominatus, isn’t it?”
“It took me some time to figure out how far-reaching they were.” And she’d believed a former president was the head of that particular snake. Little did I know.
“And you never once suspected that Preston Lightwood was one of them at any point?”
She wanted to roll her eyes. “Life is never that cut-and-dry. This isn’t about good and evil. It’s about what the court can prove. Preston isn’t the one on trial here.”
“His involvement—”
Hasworth shot out of her chair. “Objection.”
The judge said, “Sustained. Mrs. Jaxton is right that Preston Lightwood isn’t the one on trial.”
The defense attorney said, “And yet, he’s also conveniently absent.
Almost as if everyone in Mrs. Jaxton’s life has left her to face this court alone.
Interesting that she refers to her associates often.
Actively protects them. Hides their real identities.
Is almost brought up on charges of interfering in a police investigation and aiding and abetting a fugitive.
And puts her life on the line for people who don’t even have the decency to show up when she’s testifying in the biggest case of all. ”
Kenna bit the inside of her lip. She didn’t want to cry. Mostly because this guy would think he’d upset her.
She didn’t want to think about watching that coffin lowered into the ground.
Rain streaming from the sky like tears. Her black shoes sinking into the grass while she held her daughter tight to her chest, wrapped under her coat. Jax beside her, holding an umbrella.
All of them huddled around her. Locked together in their grief. Supporting each other.
Preston had been there. Why did he need to be here?
Kenna bit out the words, “No charges were filed.”
She wasn’t the one on trial.
“Do you want to know about Dominatus or not? Because those people are responsible for the death of the former president and the head of the CIA. I think that would be more significant than talking about my friends.”
The defense attorney asked, “Did you ever meet the president? That’s another crime you weren’t present for, correct? Seems to be a pattern.”
“Yes, I did meet him,” Kenna said. “In London.”