“Boss says there’s rumors she’s been taking a lot of pictures,” the other reminded him. “She should have at least had a camera.”
“Or her cell phone?” the first retorted, scoffing at the idea of a camera. “You know what gossip is like around here. She probably said she wanted pictures and someone took it and ran with a camera.”
That was always a possibility, Kenni thought in amusement. Gossip in small towns tended to be like that.
“They were after your files,” Sawyer murmured then. “Any indication that you were investigating who was giving the orders or recognized anyone who’d been sent after you in the past.”
“Where were they hidden?” Deacon question softly, indicating the pictures and hard copy of the few files she’d printed.
“Beneath her box springs.” It was Cord who answered the question. “That’s where she used to hide everything. Then she hid under the bed herself.”
Well, one point for the older brother, she thought painfully. He’d paid attention when she was a child when she hadn’t thought he had. Had he been even remotely involved in the attempts on her life, he would have told whoever was sent to search the house to be certain to check there.
“All kids hide under the bed,” Deacon snorted doubtfully. “That doesn’t mean anything.”
“Not like Kenni. If there was something she valued she made a slit beneath the box springs and hid it inside there,” Cord stated softly. “She would hide under the bed herself whenever she thought she was in trouble. We let her think she was pulling it off. She never learned she wasn’t, evidently.”
“She learned. She was just out of options when you stepped in with the boob squad.” She nodded to Deacon and Sawyer. “I hope you at least use a muzzle whenever you take them out on jobs with you.”
“Industrial-strength glue,” Cord snorted.
“Yeah, I always said they were untrainable,” she remembered, her voice softening at the insult she would throw at her brothers when she was younger.
Keeping her gaze on the video, she frowned as one of the black-garbed figures stood at the doorway and turned back to the room. His head tilted, his gaze circling with narrow-eyed intent.
He didn’t even pause as his gaze swept over the hidden eye of the backup camera she’d placed next to a nail hole in the scratched, aged trim of the window. The lens blended in perfectly among the other blemishes, the trim replaced without so much as a scuff mark to indicate it had been removed at any time.
He sensed it, but he just wasn’t good enough to know what it was he was sensing.
“Let’s go, bro,” the other urged. “Daylight’s coming in.”
Turning, the would-be assassin/burglar strode quickly across the kitchen without disturbing the cereal thrown across the floor.
“I know them.” Frowning at the video as the two left by the back door, Kenni could feel the answer to their identity teasing at her mind.
“So do I,” Jazz murmured. “I just can’t place it.”
Her brothers didn’t comment either way.
Closing the file she pulled up the file log, saw that the only recording remaining was the time she’d arrived at the house and disconnected the encryption program.
“Like Slade, I want a chance to crack that program.” Sawyer was all but rubbing his large techie hands in excitement at the chance to get into Gunny’s program.
“Gather your things, Kenni,” Cord said then. “We’ll leave as soon as I can discuss a few things with Slade.”
The shocking statement had her head jerking up, her gaze meeting Jazz’s as he came from behind her.
He stilled next to the table, his eyes meeting hers slowly.
“I’m not going anywhere, Cord.” Setting the electronic lock on the laptop, she closed the lid and slid it aside with deliberate care. “I’m fine where I’m at.”
“Like hell…”
She rose to her feet and turned to face him.
“Didn’t Poppy tell you, this is home,” she told him softly. “As long as Jazz allows me to stay, it’s home.”
A heavy frown creased his brow. “Think Poppy won’t head straight here when we tell him?”
Kenni turned to Jazz with a mocking smile. “How many others will have to know, I wonder?”
“God, Kenni, Poppy’s never recovered…” Sawyer whispered in disbelief, his voice hardening at the thought of keeping their father in the dark.
“There’s no coming back from dead, Sawyer,” she reminded him painfully, turning back to them. “Poppy would be easier to get to than even the three of you. He’s cemented in those he trusts, and he trusts David. He always has. How many other Kin does he trust that far who are aligned with whoever killed Momma?”
“Kenni, you need to come home,” Cord growled despite the arguments as he glanced at Jazz. “Just because Poppy gave him a few things he knew you loved and Jazz built your dream house doesn’t mean it’s happily-ever-after. That was then…”
“And this is now,” she replied, her voice sharper perhaps than she’d intended. “And I’m not going anywhere, Cord.”
“Those are Maddox eyes, and Slade’s lab contact may have identified her DNA as Maddox, but I’m not convinced she’s Kenni,” Deacon said then, his tone icy. “Kenni wouldn’t have hidden for ten years, she wouldn’t have denied her family the truth that she was alive, and she wouldn’t endanger the man she thought she was in love with ten years ago.”
“And Deacon would have known better than to think I’m so easy to maneuver,” she snorted as she began pushing the laptop, DVR, pictures, and files into the leather bag. “The three of you need to figure that one out now.”
“You’re not protected here, Kenni,” Cord argued. “Slade has his own family to think of, that just leaves Zack to help…”
“She said she’s not leaving.” Jazz didn’t raise his voice or issue a threat, but the tension in the room intensified significantly.
She knew how the bone felt between two dogs now.
“Kenni’s not one of your playthings, Jazz. It’s been ten years since you asked Poppy to let you see her, don’t try to convince us whatever you felt for her then still exists now,” Deacon argued, his expression glowering.
Kenni didn’t think she could bear to hear the answer to that accusation.
“Enough, all three of you.” Slapping her hand to the table, she turned to her brothers and let them see the outrage surging through her.
“Kenni, you’re still our sister,” Cord bit out before she could say anything more. “Our baby sister. The thought of losing you again—”
“Is one of the reasons I didn’t want you to know,” she cried out. “Do you think I’m not aware of how the three of you and Poppy hurt? Did you think I wanted you to have to suffer any further?”
“Then come home,” he demanded, his tone low. “Come home, Kenni.”
But she was home. She could feel that truth in every fiber of her being. It wasn’t just the house, the pool, or the gazebo. It was Jazz and part of her soul refused to let the dream of belonging to him go as so many other dreams had been lost.
* * *
It had to be her choice.
Jazz kept reminding himself that he couldn’t make her stay, and he couldn’t place his fist in any of her brothers’ faces, unless they tried to hit him first. He rather doubted he could push them into hitting him first right now.
That didn’t keep him from glaring at them.
Son of a bitch, he was almost scared they were going to talk her into leaving.
Cord would be the one to persuade her, he thought. She’d always been closer to him than the others. For years she’d been his shadow, trying to follow him everywhere he went.
“No, Cord.” Her tone was firm, firm enough that she had her brothers looking at one another as though seeking answers. “I’m fine here. For now.”
“And when this is over?” Deacon asked then, shooting Jazz a dark look. “When it’s safe to go home, will you go? Or are you going to wait until he’s finished with you? Until he’s convinced you what great and wonderful friends the two of you can be while everyone’s laughing at you behind your back?”