Page 3 of Now or Never
“And yet you think I bribed my way, or slept my way, to the corner office?”
Kenna kept her expression impassive. “I think someone…encouraged you to report this as a random act of violence perpetrated in the heat of the moment.”
“I never said that’s what happened.” The Chief ME stared at Kenna, her jaw set.
Jax folded his arms. “Your conclusions, and the way you interpret evidence, sway the detectives. They draw conclusions from whatyoutell them.”
“And you told them this girl fought for her life but wasn’t strong enough to prevent her death. Which I suppose, in a way, was true,” Kenna said. “It’s simply that it happened over a period of weeks between her capture and her inevitable death.”
Walsh’s expression hit on a frown, just for a split second.
Yes, Kenna knew what she was talking about. She knew what it meant to be held against her will, convinced there was no way out. Waking up every day wondering if it would be the day she died. Being pregnant…
Not something she needed to think about right now. She and the baby were safe. Or at least as safe as they could be given their enemy was a dangerous group of people whose entire goal was to manipulate worldwide events. The reflex to comfort herself and her baby had her hand moving toward her abdomen, but she caught herself before drawing attention to the fact she was pregnant.
Jax took her hand and laced his fingers through hers. No matter who was paying attention, or if no one saw, they were a united front either way.
Kenna held tight to his hand and looked at Dr. Walsh. “Iamgoing to find the person who did this to Samantha Ambrose. Not because her parents are offering a reward, or because I might be able to spin it and have the district attorney file corruption charges against you. But because Samantha Ambrose can’t speak for herself.”
“So the question is,” Jax said, “did you record the evidence in this way because you were pressured to do so, or because onthis particular day you simply decided to rush through and cut corners?”
Walsh shifted, clearly uncomfortable. “If you believe me incompetent just come out and say it.”
“Who encouraged you to do this?” Kenna asked. “Seems like no one really cares about the victim. She wasn’t anyone important. Why brush it aside?”
“This is off the record,” Walsh said, her voice hushed.
Kenna didn’t bother explaining again that they weren’t reporters. She simply nodded.
“I don’t know who it was.”
“How did they contact you?”
“A note in my mailbox.” Walsh sighed. “I never learned who they were. I never met them.”
“What did you do with the note?”
“I destroyed it.”
Kenna tried not to be disappointed hearing that. “What did the note say?”
“Those who don’t fall in line?—”
“—are cut down in their prime.” Kenna’s stomach flipped over. Or the baby was moving. Maybe both. Either way, the topic of conversation and the smell of hot roast beef was getting to her.
Walsh frowned. “How do you know that?”
“I’ve heard it before.” She squeezed Jax’s hand without intending to. “How did you know what to do, based on just that?”
“There were…pictures. Of Samantha Ambrose. Instructions to interpret the evidence in a way that would lead the detectives to believe it was random and vicious. The result of the victim’s choices.” Walsh swallowed. “Then my boss used that same saying about falling in line. I knew they got to him as well, and we were both being manipulated. Three weeks later, he died in car accident.”
Kenna said, “Calling it an accident implies no one is at fault.”
Walsh nodded.
Jax squeezed her hand, and she took that as the signal to wrap this up.
Kenna glanced over at the server and saw him talking with a suited man who had slicked-back black hair threaded with gray. The owner, or manager. She dug a business card from her leather wallet and put it on the table. “If you think of anything that might help us find whoever did this to Samantha Ambrose, please call us.”
