Chapter 21

Phoenix was back. The boss made her entrance like usual, her sandy colored K-9, Dagian, sticking to her side as she crossed the breakroom at PK-9 headquarters without smiles or hellos for anyone.

"Welcome back." Cora greeted Phoenix as the boss sat in her favorite armchair, the chair no one else ever used because they knew it was hers.

Phoenix seemed to give a hint of a nod, the bill of her charcoal baseball cap tilting slightly. "What do we know about the hitmen?"

Jazz glanced at Nevaeh, who gave her a small smile. Probably because Phoenix was bringing up the threat on Jazz, despite her claim the boss didn't care.

Jazz had to admit, she was surprised that would be Phoenix's priority first thing out of the gate. But maybe it was an intentional misdirect. What better way to avoid questions about where she'd been for two weeks?

Lines crossed Cora's forehead as she looked at Jazz. "I've been able to keep Phoenix up to date on everything that's been happening with the attempts on your life. Very impressive work in capturing the two men."

"Thanks." Jazz shot Phoenix a glance, but the woman's expression was unreadable, as always. Especially under the shadow cast by her cap. Would've been nice to hear the praise from her, but Jazz appreciated Cora's effort.

"The two men have been identified as a Calvin Crieg and Marty Jenson." Cora switched her focus to Phoenix as she continued. "They both have felony records for assault and armed robbery."

"And yet they're running around loose on our streets." Bris, sitting in the other armchair across the room, pushed out her lips with an exasperated widening of her eyes.

Toby sat up next to her knee and looked at his handler with his tongue dangling as if trying to understand what she meant.

"Gotta love our penal system." Sofia voiced the sarcastic thought as she smoothed her hand along Gaston's ear.

The chocolate Newfoundland water rescue dog sprawled on the sofa with his head resting on Sof's lap and his body hogging most of the other cushions.

Slim Cora had managed to squeeze in next to his tail to sit on the remaining half of the end cushion. "The men sadly are not admitting guilt or giving any indication of having been hired by anyone." Apology filled Cora's tone as she looked at Jazz.

"Good thing we don't need their confirmation." Sof's remark drew everyone's attention to her. "Ramone told me he heard Crieg and Jenson were hired for a hit. They've apparently done low-level hits before. They aren't as expensive as some and tend to be very available on short notice."

Helpful Sof had a source in the local criminal underworld. Ramone, a former arms dealer, had assisted PK-9 more than once with his intel.

"So the creep who hired them isn't in the know himself?" Nev asked the question from the cushion next to Jazz on the love seat. "Like, he's not a crook?"

"Possibly." Sof pushed the fingers of one hand into her gorgeous black waves of hair. "Crieg and Jenson would probably be easy to find through a source with minimal connections to the criminal network here. Ramone said he didn't know who the mark is or who hired them."

"At least we have confirmation there really is a hit out on Jazz." Bris leaned forward to grab her mug off the coffee table in front of her.

"Or was a hit." Their attention landed on Jazz as she spoke. "I figured it's probably over with now. I mean, I put the hitmen behind bars." She smiled slightly, trying for casual and confident. "That should make the joker who thinks he can kill me give up."

"Or she." Even Nev's lowered eyebrows said she wasn't convinced by Jazz's pitch.

"Okay." Jazz shrugged a shoulder as she lifted her coffee mug to her mouth. "Or she."

"If someone went to all the trouble to find hired killers and pay them to kill you," Bris leveled a serious stare at Jazz, "that person isn't going to quit until you're dead."

Leave it to Bris not to sugarcoat it.

"Good point." Nev touched Jazz's arm as she looked at her. "It's better to play it safe."

Easy enough for them to say. They weren't the ones having to deal with the fact that someone hated them enough to want them dead. But she should be used to it by now. Being disliked was life as usual for her.

Flash shifted against Jazz's ankle, taking some of the weight off his front leg where it lay across her feet.

So what if the surprise attacks weren't over? So what if someone wanted her dead? She and Flash could handle anyone. "Okay. So where do we go from here?"

"We investigate." Phoenix's statement in her deep, emotionless tone nearly made Jazz start.

She'd almost forgotten the boss was there. Though not all the way.

Phoenix's presence gave the room a tense, vigilant vibe that nobody could forget. "Cora."

The blonde nodded to the boss and lifted her open notebook computer onto her lap. "I tracked down all the veterans who served with you in your Army unit, Jazz. There are none in this area specifically. The closest lives in Michigan. A Brad Grayson." Cora's blue eyes lifted to Jazz. "Do you remember him?"

Brad. The company jokester. He'd tried to make her the brunt of the jokes until she put him in his place. Knives were handy for that. She'd earned enough respect to make him leave her alone from then on but hadn't earned his friendship. No one in her unit had granted her that.

She cleared her throat. "Yeah, I remember him. I don't think he'd be any trouble. He was a decent soldier. Obeyed orders. Pretty clean cut."

"All right." Cora nodded at Jazz's assessment. "We'll move him down the list." She cast Phoenix a glance that Jazz couldn't read. Asking for permission or needing to know something?

Phoenix looked at Cora but didn't so much as blink.

Cora seemed to have learned something anyway, as she turned to Jazz with resolve firming her features. "I know you've suffered a great loss in your family, and I want to convey my deepest condolences."

Jazz blinked. Okay. Not what she'd expected her to say. Had Phoenix wanted Cora to do that? Jazz glanced at the boss instinctively, but, of course, couldn't detect anything from her.

"We're all sorry for your loss." Bris glanced at the others, who nodded as they watched Jazz.

An itchy feeling crept up Jazz's neck at the attention. Hopefully, they weren't expecting her to burst into tears or something. "Um, thanks." Jazz shifted her gaze to Nev, a safe landing spot.

Sadness also shadowed Nev's eyes, but at least she got it. Jazz was upset about Aunt Joan. It was awful. But they hadn't been close. Aunt Joan hadn't even loved Jazz. Not like the PK-9 women were thinking.

"I need to ask you a question that may be difficult, and I'm sorry for that." Cora captured Jazz's attention with her earnest tone. "But we do want to find out who is putting you in danger." Cora's tongue slid over her lips before she took a breath to speak again. "Did either of your parents or your aunt and uncle—any family member—have an enemy that might want to harm you?"

That wanted Jazz dead, she meant. After all, that's what hitmen were hired for. But that didn't mean she wanted to chat about her parents in front of everyone. Way too personal and…vulnerable. So she stuck with the safe topic. "Well, we talked about someone wanting to threaten my aunt by going after me. To try to get her to shut down the fair."

"Yeah, but that didn't make sense when they kept trying to kill you after she was dead." Nev gave Jazz a look that said she was surprised Jazz had forgotten they'd discussed that.

Jazz tried to insert the hint in her return gaze that it was a distraction. That Nev should help steer clear of her parents as a topic.

But Nev's eyebrows lowered, and her lips pressed together in a stubborn pucker. Great. She didn't think that was a good idea. Of course, Nev had felt comfortable enough with these women to share her deepest, darkest memories and fears when she'd told them about the assault she'd suffered. And Jazz had been proud of her for having the courage to share and face the pain. The PK-9 team had responded well, rallying around Nev and supporting her like they should.

But Jazz wasn't Nevaeh. These ladies didn't care for her like that. Nev was fun and awesome—she fit in everywhere she went. Jazz was the total opposite. A misfit with everyone. Especially in a tight-knit group of smart, confident, super skilled women who were also mostly all Christians now. One more reason Jazz didn't belong.

"Agreed." Phoenix drew everyone's attention, as she always did when she actually spoke. "We can dispense with that theory." She aimed her gaze at Jazz.

At least Jazz thought that was the direction she was looking from under the bill of her cap. The feeling of being scrutinized backed up the guess.

"Though there could be someone with a vendetta against you due to family ties. You could also be a means to threaten your uncle in his pursuit of election."

Hadn't thought of that. Could a person mistakenly think her uncle would be bothered if they threatened her? Enough to give up his campaign for governor? It was almost laughable. Although he had acted like he might be starting to care about her a little now.

The memory of his gentle hold on her hand and his kind, almost fatherly smiles yesterday warmed her chest. Maybe he would be bothered if something happened to her. "I suppose they could want to stop Uncle Pierce from running for governor."

"I'll look into it." Cora typed something into her computer. "I don't know that people in his campaign will tell me if he's received threats, but I'll see what I can do. Could you talk to your uncle about the possibility, as well?"

Jazz had to think about that a second. Did she want him to know she was in danger? The warmth in his eyes yesterday as he'd talked about family, including her as his family, blocked her vision for a moment. "I remember Aunt Joan said he's gotten what she called harmless threats. She said it was typical for politicians. Didn't sound serious."

Cora frowned. "That is sadly true, I believe. But I'll try digging to see if he's received any the police are taking seriously."

"Did your parents have enemies that you know of?" Sof delivered the variation on Cora's question. Probably because she'd noticed how Jazz had sidestepped it when Cora asked.

"No."

"Father was in the Army." How did Phoenix know that?

Jazz narrowed her eyes. Because she knew everything, Nev would say. And she'd be happy about it.

Phoenix turned her head toward Cora. "Look into his service. Where, when, with whom."

Cora nodded as she typed more notes into the computer.

"Do you have information regarding your mother's history or whereabouts?" An actual question from the boss. So she didn't know everything.

But the reason she didn't know stung deep behind Jazz's ribs. No one knew where her mom had gone after she'd left them when Jazz was a baby. Her dad hadn't known. At least that's what he'd always told Jazz. And she'd never known. Never wanted to know. Why would she want to find someone who'd abandoned her practically at birth?

"No." Jazz hated the thick emotion in her voice. The anger they all wouldn't miss. They'd probably figured out now that her mom had left her, thanks to Phoenix's pointed questions. Nev might be okay with her personal life being paraded in front of these women, but Jazz was not. It'd be different if they loved her like they did Nev. But everything would be different then.

"May I have your permission to try to learn more about her and your father?" Cora's blue eyes filled with compassion as she watched Jazz. Yeah, she'd definitely figured it out. But she was also asking for Jazz's okay. The kindness made tears prick Jazz's eyes. "We only want to ensure your safety as well as we can."

It was what they did for the others on the team when they were in danger. If Jazz had half a brain, she wouldn't prevent the one time they were treating her the same. She nodded assent, not trusting her voice.

Pressure on her knee drew her gaze to Nev, who gave her a gentle squeeze. Courage. Like Jazz had tried to give Nev whenever she struggled with her PTSD. Jazz met her friend's gaze, infusing a thank you into hers.

"What about a connection between the fair and the attacks on Jazz?"

Jazz could've hugged Bris for angling the subject and everyone's attention elsewhere.

"I still think it's suspicious the way the first attack on Jazz was the same night as the first sabotage." The former cop moved her gaze over the others like she was looking for agreement. She stopped on a fixed point. Maybe Phoenix? "I know we don't usually investigate when we're only hired for security, but what do you think?"

Jazz swung her head toward the boss, her stomach tightening. If the resources of the Phoenix K-9 Agency could be used to find out who was behind the sabotage, the danger to the fair could likely be ended much sooner. In time to save this season and future ones.

"We'll investigate the fair sabotage and the death of Joan Cracklen. The incidents could be connected to the threat against Jazz."

Hope swelled in Jazz's chest at the boss's declaration. It had taken them long enough to recognize the need to protect the fair, but there was still time. They could find the culprit behind the sabotage and Aunt Joan's death and stop him or her before another attack. "The strongest evidence so far points to the Best Life Community." Jazz couldn't help but blurt out the information in her excitement.

"I've always been concerned about the cult and its influence on people." Cora frowned. "But I didn't suspect any violent tendencies."

"I don't think they've been violent before." At least according to Hawthorne, but Jazz kept her source to herself. "Their leader, Desmond Patch, has spoken publicly against the fair. Called it evil."

Cora glanced at Phoenix a moment before returning her attention to Jazz. "The police are already looking into him because of the pin and the note found last night, but I'll do a deep dive with our resources and see what I can find."

That was definitely an advantage of having the PK-9 Agency on board. They always knew what the police were doing and had connections Jazz still couldn't explain. But if the team was working on this now, she should probably tell them what she was about to do.

"I might be able to find out something, too. I'm going to the cult tomorrow to take a tour of the commune." She caught Nev's surprised stare from the corner of her eye. "I'm going to pretend I'm interested in joining so I can request a meeting with Desmond Patch." She held her breath. Would Phoenix tell her she couldn't do that?

"Were you going to tell us about this?" Nev muttered the question under her breath, hopefully quietly enough that no one else heard.

"Good." The one word from Phoenix loosened the tension clenching Jazz's chest. "Take Sofia or Nevaeh with you."

The pinch came back with renewed strength, squeezing her ribs. How was she going to do the investigating for Hawthorne with one of them tagging along? She couldn't tell anyone about it. Hawthorne had asked her last night to keep it a secret that he was investigating Sam's death and especially that he thought it could be murder.

"I'll go if the timing works with my shift." Nev threw Jazz a glance that said she wanted to hear everything later.

Jazz let out a breath and gave her a half smile. "That sounds good." Especially since the timing wouldn't work. If Jazz needed to, she could probably explain enough of the details to Nev that she'd be okay with Jazz going alone.

"We're switching to a new shift schedule."

Jazz jerked her gaze to Phoenix. Had she picked up on what Jazz was planning?

"Sofia, you'll take the morning shift. Nevaeh, noon to eight. Jazz, four to midnight."

Jazz fought to keep from narrowing her eyes at Phoenix. What was the boss up to?

The others nodded, accepting whatever Phoenix decided, no questions asked, as usual.

Somebody had to ask. "Why the change?"

Even Raksa and Alvarez, lounging on the open carpet past the sofas, looked at her as if they agreed with everyone else that she was weird. But what was actually weird was how no one ever questioned Phoenix. About anything. No one wondered where she disappeared to for weeks at a time. Or why she was so secretive and mysterious. Did anyone know anything about her? She could be a criminal or something for all they knew.

Phoenix waited a few moments—very long, painful moments—before answering. "You're the most familiar with the fair. You should be on duty when the culprit may be attempting to set up his or her next move."

Jazz tried to hide her surprise. Hadn't expected that answer. It was almost complimentary. Like Phoenix thought Jazz would be able to prevent more sabotage or catch the criminal behind it.

"I want you to show me the areas where all three incidents occurred."

All sense of confidence flew out the window, chased away by Jazz's speeding pulse. "You're going to be there?"

"Yes."

Jazz's throat dried to sandpaper. Just what was Phoenix really doing? Did she hope to catch Jazz failing at security detail? Or maybe she wanted to get Jazz alone to tell her she was fired.

And what about Hawthorne? He was probably going back to the morning shift today. She wouldn't see him. Maybe she could call or text him. She'd have to take Best Life's earlier tour she'd seen listed on their website instead of the evening one she'd told him she was going to attend.

Should she hint that Hawthorne could be helpful in the investigation, too? He'd already helped her out with what he'd found in the security footage. "We could loop Hawthorne in to help."

"Hawthorne?" Sof quirked a dark eyebrow.

"Hawthorne Emerson. The author of the Carson Steele novels?"

Blank stares met Jazz's explanation. Well, except Phoenix's stare that never changed.

"Oh, I enjoy those novels." And except for Cora. She smiled at Jazz. "I understand he's with security at the fair."

Now that she thought about it, no one but Jazz and Nev should know Hawthorne worked at the fair. She didn't think Sof had gotten his name when she'd seen him by the Ferris wheel. So who had told Cora? Jazz glanced at Nev, who gave her a shoulder shrug.

"I've been reviewing the duty rosters."

Jazz let out a slow breath, releasing her vise grip on the handle of her mug. So Nev wasn't spreading rumors about Jazz having a crush or something like that. Good. But she wouldn't have to start any rumors if Jazz didn't stop acting weird about him. She steadied her thoughts. "We've been chatting, since I'm a fan of his novels, and he's been doing some investigating himself."

Sof and Bris exchanged a look that sent a jolt of panic up Jazz's neck. They wouldn't start teasing her about liking Hawthorne, would they?

Jazz hurried to say more before they could. "He has some great ideas. Maybe we can bring him in to help us." She looked at Phoenix.

The boss had brought in men to assist before. She'd even invited Branson into headquarters to help find the person trying to kill Nev.

"We don't need outside assistance." Phoenix stared directly at Jazz as she spoke. Her tone was as passionless as usual, but Jazz couldn't help feeling the words were intended to put her in her place.

Jazz hadn't meant to insinuate the PK-9 team needed help. Phoenix probably only objected to Hawthorne because he was Jazz's recommendation. The guy she was interested in. If one of the other girls had suggested he be looped in, the boss would've agreed to do it. She had let all their husbands and fiancés help, even in the field.

"So if Jazz is with you tonight, I suppose she doesn't have to call for check-ins during that time?" Nev asked the question in a normal, relaxed tone. As if she hadn't seen how Phoenix had just shut Jazz down with no explanation.

"No. Check-ins are not needed at any point. Jazz has proven she can take care of herself."

The observation from the boss herself should've sent Jazz over the moon. Phoenix finally recognized her skills. This was as close to a compliment as Phoenix ever got.

But it was overshadowed by what Phoenix had also said, disguised as praise. The boss had just stated her reason for not protecting Jazz from danger. And declared that Jazz needed to continue fending for herself.