"A four-story drop will do that to you."
"Why'd he jump? You could've taken him in. He's our killer, right?"
"He's our arsonist, but I don't think he killed anyone." Jasi handed him the matches and sat down on a flat stone, her hands on her knees. "This is so much bigger than one murderer, Brandon. We're dealing with multiple killers. A clandestine organization. Lazarus arranged it all."
"What kind of organization kills innocent people?"
"One of the sickest kinds—a hunt club."
He hissed in a breath. "You mean the kind that hunts humans for sport?"
"Exactly. And according to Lazarus, these hunters are in positions of power. Lawyers, judges, police—you name it."
"Did he give you any names?"
"No."
She told him about the cell phone, the voice on the other end and the two words Lazarus had told her before he died.
"Makes no sense," Brandon said.
"I know."
"How do you want to handle this?"
She glanced down at Lazarus. "We need to get a recovery team in here before the wildlife gets to him."
"On it." He reached for his data-com and dialed Matthew's number. A few seconds later, he hung up. "He's sending two agents from the gravesites. They'll be here in five minutes. They'll take it from there."
Jasi stood slowly, stretching her arms above her head. "I just want this case to be over. I feel like we've been going around in circles for weeks."
"It's been a couple of days."
She scowled. "Feels like much longer."
Bending, she rummaged through Lazarus's pockets. "Nothing. Damn it!"
"I think we need to regroup with Ben and Natassia, go over everything we know."
"Let's get Agent Anthony in on this too. The kid has sharp eyes."
A rustle in the bushes indicated they had company. Two CFBI agents greeted them with a wave.
Brandon watched as Jasi issued orders. Her confidence was sexier than ever, but her vulnerability made him love her even more. He saw the hurt in her emerald green eyes, and he knew she was struggling. She'd promised Emily she'd find her, and time was running out.
He had his own thoughts about Emily. Jasi had been seeing her since she was young. He wanted to protect Jasi from what he suspected she'd find—the girl's remains. After all, she'd first appeared to Jasi as a girl with strangulation marks around her throat.
He recalled that popular television series from years ago, one he'd never watched but his sister had been hooked on. Was Jasi communicating with the dead?
Is she a ghost whisperer?
Upon reaching Sanctuary, Brandon took Jasi's arm and led her to the barn where all the residents were waiting. "We have to find out who else is involved in this conspiracy."
"What do you think Lazarus meant about 'white Jaguar'?" Jasi asked.
"Someone involved must own one."
"Aren't they expensive?"
"Very. A car like that could run you anywhere from sixty to a hundred thousand."
Jasi smiled. "Which means not everyone has one. Ben should be able to find it." She activated her 'com and set it on speakerphone. "Call Ben." When he picked up, she told him about Lazarus, the hunt club and the white Jag.
She hung up and looked at Brandon. "Maybe the vehicle registrations will turn up something on our suspects."
"There's one thing that's been bothering me about all this."
"What's that?"
"I get that Lazarus wanted to escape, but why did he head up the ridge? Why not hide in the forest or try to reach a main road that would take him out of here?"
"I don't know. I wondered the same thing." Her 'com rang. "Hey, Ben. What have you got for us?"
"I checked vehicle registrations for everyone at Sanctuary, their relatives and the investors. No one owns a white Jaguar."
"Maybe they rented it," Brandon said.
"I had the same thought, so I searched for car rentals in the area. No one in Mission has a Jaguar of any color. And there is only a couple in the Vancouver area and none of them are white."
"Damn," Jasi said.
"Matthew's sending out teams to watch the investors. If anyone else makes a move, we'll know." Ben signed off.
Outside the barn, Brandon said, "They're not going to open up if you tell them about Lazarus right away. I suggest we ask our questions first."
"I agree. Let's see if anyone here gets spooked by the mention of a 'white Jaguar.'"
He squeezed her hand. "We're getting close, Jasi."
"I hope so."
He kissed her cheek. "And when this is over, I'll help you with Emily."
Jasi blinked back tears. "You know, not every guy would believe a gal who talks to ghosts."
"I'm not every guy." He hoped she realized he meant it. "Besides, I've heard schizophrenia is common with psychics."
She jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow. "Not funny."
He smirked. "It kinda is."
"Come on. We've got killers to catch."
Brandon entered the barn and noticed the spacious room was calm and orderly. Every chair was occupied. A handful of residents stood near the dessert table, chatting quietly. Two of Christiansen's wives, Hannah and Grace, were wrapping up the leftovers, while Jeremiah sat at the head table soaking in his followers' admiration, smiling as though he hadn't a care in the world.
"Look at him," Brandon whispered. "King of the world."
"Hopefully king of a cellblock by the end of today," Jasi replied.
He couldn't agree more.
Christiansen stood and made his way toward them. "We have had a blessing today."
"What do you mean?"
"My wife, Rachel, gave birth to a healthy son."
"How is your wife?" Jasi asked.
"This was a difficult pregnancy for her, but she is on the road to recovery."
"I'm happy to hear that."
Brandon held out his hand. "Congratulations on the birth of your son."
"Thank you."
When Jeremiah shook his hand, Jasi hissed in a breath. "You've got blood on your hands, Mr. Christiansen."
The man blinked in surprise. "My apologies. Birthing can be a messy process."
"You assisted?"
"I try to assist in every birth here."
After Christiansen left, she motioned Natassia and Agent Anthony to join them. While Jasi told them about the hunt club and Lazarus's death, Brandon eyed two of the men sitting next to Christiansen—Henry Edgars and Kenneth O'Brien.
Were they part of the conspiracy?
Henry caught his eye and scowled.
The feeling's mutual, buddy.
Returning to the conversation, he reminded Jasi about Lazarus's final words.
"Are you sure that's what he said?" Brandon asked.
"Positive. I leaned down and he said it clear as can be—'white Jaguar.'"
"Excuse me," Agent Anthony interjected. "What did you just say?"
Jasi blinked then repeated her words.
The young agent's pale brows shot up. "Holy crap! Uh…sorry. I mean—never mind. You have to follow me back to the van. I read something in one of those documents. I know I did."
"I'll stay behind and keep the natives in line," Natassia said with a sigh.
"He better not be leading us on a wild goose chase," Jasi murmured to Brandon.
"If he does, I'm sure he means well."
Agent Anthony bolted across the field, and Brandon and Jasi followed.
23
Agent Anthony reached the surveillance van first, and he was inside before Jasi could warn Ben. When she climbed inside, she took one look at Ben and made a face. Oh damn.
"Didn't you ever learn to knock?" he said to Agent Anthony.
The kid quaked in his boots. "I-I…"
"Sorry, Ben," Jasi said. "Agent Anthony is a little overzealous."
"He thinks he saw something in one of the reports," Brandon added.
Ben clenched his jaw,
his eyes narrowing. "Are you suggesting we missed something, Agent Anthony?"
"N-no."
"Then what are you suggesting?"
Agent Anthony drew a deep breath. "Agent McLellan recently came across new evidence. When I heard about it, I remembered I'd seen that reference in one of the investor reports."
"Whose?"
"I don't recall his name, but I'm sure I can find it."
Ben stepped aside. "Have at it."
"Agent McLellan," Agent Anthony said, rifling through various reports, "you thought Lazarus was talking about a car, but he wasn't. He was talking about the famous 'White Jaguar.'"
He glanced up and was greeted with blank stares, including Jasi's.
"Don't any of you watch reality shows?"
"I get enough reality from this job," Jasi said.
"There's a show called Wild Huntsman. It's about extreme hunting, filmed all over the world, with legendary hunters hunting in harsh conditions, searching for that rare trophy to place on their walls."
She let out an impatient huff. "What's a TV show got to do with our case?"
"Last season, they had this guy on it. He's hunted in the Serengeti, the Amazon, New Zealand—"
"Agent Anthony…"
"Got it!" He waved a paper in the air then handed it to Jasi.
"Becket Hawley?" she said, skimming over the report.
She was about to ask him how Hawley was connected when she saw a paragraph on Hawley's income. Last year he'd been paid a substantial amount to appear on a television show—Wild Huntsman.
"So Becket Hawley was on a hunting show. That only tells us he likes to hunt."
"He doesn't just like to hunt, he's a crack shot. He killed an elephant at a half mile away." Agent Anthony's voice grew excited. "Know what Hawley's nickname on the show was?"
When the answer hit her, Jasi smirked. "White Jaguar."
"I have a list of Hawley's known associates," Ben said. He flipped through a folder until he found the page. "He's definitely well connected."
"Any judges, lawyers or police officers?" she asked.
"All three."
She felt her heart skip a beat. They were closing in on the people responsible for the gruesome murders. "Let me see who the police officers are. I'll call Pop and see if knows anything about them."
Ben handed her the paper and she scanned the names. She was familiar with two of the judges on the list. They'd presided over some of her previous cases. One lawyer she recognized from his television advertisement. He was heavy into tort law.
She reached the list of police officers. It was short—five names. The last one made her do a double-take.
"Oh God…"
Brandon looked over her shoulder. "Isn't that the same guy from the photo of the police convention?"
"I was hoping that was simply a random event." But as she stared into the eyes of a man she thought she knew so well, she shivered. "I have to call Pop."
She left the van. Walking down the road that led away from Sanctuary, she dialed Pop's number.
When he picked up, she blew out a breath. "You're home."
"Where else would I be, lass?" her father said, his Scottish brogue thicker than usual, which suggested he'd been drinking.
"Pop, I need to ask you some questions, and I want you to promise me you won't ask why."
"Okay…"
"What do you know about Becket Hawley?"
"Becket? He comes from old money and likes to travel and hunt."
"Have you ever heard any whispers about him, anything he may be involved in?"
"You mean illegal activities?" Pop paused. "Well, there was some ruckus a few years ago, allegations he was involved in illegal game hunting in Africa. And I know he's smuggled in a few trophy heads, ones that never would've passed customs."
"Did Hawley ever invite you to go hunting around the Mission area?"
Pop laughed. "Mission? Don't know why he'd bother. Not much of a thrill there. But if you really want to know about Becket, you should ask Paxton."
Jasi bit her lip. "How well does Uncle Paxton know him?"
"Oh they've been friends for years. Paxton and Becket went to college together. Paxton was the one who helped Becket when the smuggling charges came up."
"Has he ever taken Paxton hunting with him?"
The elongated silence was palpable.
"Pop?"
"Jasmine," he said finally, "what's this about?"
"Pop, you promised to let me ask the questions."
She heard him sigh. "Ach, I've heard them making arrangements from time to time, but I don't know if they were hunting, playing cards or grabbing a pint. Want me to call Paxton and ask—"
"No, Pop," she said, gripping the 'com tightly. "I'll give him a call."
"Listen, Jasmine, whatever you're thinking, you're wrong. There's no way Paxton is involved in your case. I've known him for nearly thirty-five years. He's a fine cop and a finer friend. He was there for me after your mother…" His voice cracked. "And before that, when your mother was in the hospital. I was out on a call, and he saved her life."
"What? When was that?"
"Two years before you were born."
"How come you never told me?"
"Your mother, she had…woman problems. I didn't think you needed to know that. It didn't seem that significant."
Jasi gritted her teeth. "Everything about my mother is important, Pop."
"When you come for dinner, I'll tell you all about it. You got my word. But Paxton is a decent man, so don't you be going 'round thinking otherwise."
"I have to go now, Pop. I'll call you later. Say hi to Brady for me."
After the call disconnected, she massaged her forehead and thought about her mother, imagining her lying alone in a hospital bed. How could Pop have kept this a secret all these years?
"Is everything okay?"
Brandon walked toward her, his expression solemn, worried.
"Pop says Uncle Paxton knew Hawley and may have hunted with him."
"That doesn't mean Paxton is involved in the hunt club."
"I have a horrible feeling, Brandon." She paced the road, back and forth. "If Uncle Paxton is mixed up in this, it's going to kill Pop. He thinks Uncle Paxton is a hero."
"What do you want to do?"
"I'm going to call him."
"Paxton?"
"Yes." He started to walk away, but she grabbed his hand. "Don't go."
"You sure?"
"I need someone to keep me calm." She activated her 'com. "Call Paxton Helling."
"Jasmine?" a deep voice said.
"Uncle Paxton, hi. How are you?"
"Good, good. How've you been? I haven't seen you in a while."
"I'm keeping busy."
"And your dad?"
"Pop's fine. Listen, I'm calling because your name came up on a case I'm working on."
"Was I a former investigating officer?"
"No. We're questioning a few people, and it seems you're associated with one of them. Becket Hawley."
"Becket Hawley?" Pause. "You're saying he's part of an investigation? What kind?"
"I can't really discuss the particulars of the case, Uncle Paxton. I'm sure you understand. I was hoping you'd be able to tell me what you know about him."
"I don't know Becket very well."
"Really? Pop seems to think you're friends."
"I wouldn't call it that. We went to school together, college actually."
"Ever gone hunting with him?"
"No, hunting's not my thing. Sometimes our paths have crossed at events, but we've never hung out together. Other than that, I don't think there's anything else I can tell you. Sorry I can't help."
"One more thing," she said. "Pop mentioned you saved my mother's life."
Another long pause. "That was a long time ago. I'm surprised he said anything."
"She ended up in the hospital," she pressed.
"It was a sad time and not the outcome anyone expected."
<
br /> "What do you mean?"
"You need to talk to your father about this."
"But, Uncle Paxton—"
"Jasmine." His raspy growl made her jump. "I'm sorry, but I can't talk to you about your mother. Have a chat with your father. I have to go now. I have a meeting."
She scarcely had time to say goodbye before he hung up.
Shoving the data-com into a pocket, her eyes met Brandon's. "Well, that wasn't very productive. I think I pissed him off."
"What did you get from him?"
"Just discrepancies and more questions." She shook her head. "Uncle Paxton says he never went hunting or did anything with Hawley. He made out like he and Hawley were nothing more than casual acquaintances, but Pop is under the assumption they were chummy and played cards together."
"That's good to know."
"It's just that…" She was halfway to the van when she came to an abrupt halt. "Something doesn't feel right about all this."
Brandon tucked his arm around her waist. "You're exhausted. Maybe a quick nap would do you good."
"I can't sleep, Brandon. There's too much going on in my mind."
"To do with your mother?"
"That too. Uncle Paxton said it was a sad time when she ended up in the hospital. That no one expected it." She stopped walking and glanced up at him. "I think she had cancer. But why didn't Pop ever tell me about this?"
Her eyes welled up with tears, and he brushed one away with his thumb. "I think you should ask him."
"I plan on it. Not that it changes anything."
"Jasmine?" Ben called from the van doorway. "Matthew is sending a team to bring in Becket Hawley for questioning."
"We may finally get some answers," she said to Brandon. "Come on."
Back in the van, Jasi didn't waste any time. "Where are they taking him, Ben?"
"CFBI headquarters. Matthew will let us know as soon as they have him."
"Okay. In the meantime, we need to do a thorough check on Paxton Helling. He's a cop with VPD, and in the interest of full disclosure, he's a friend of my father's."
"You want financials too?" Ben asked.
"Everything you can find. I'm hoping, for Pop's sake, we won't find anything incriminating."
"What if we do?" Natassia asked.
"Then we do what we have to do."
Ben's data-com beeped.
"It's Matthew," he said. He listened for a minute, then disconnected. "Hawley isn't at his home or office."
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