Rogers led him toward the center of the room, where a man was bound to a chair. His head hung forward, his dark hair matted with blood that dripped down his face and splattered on his shirt. Rogers grabbed the man by the hair and hauled his face up for John to view.

The man's left eye was swollen shut and several cuts covered his face. He didn't respond to Rogers' touch. He was unconscious and his breath indicated the stress his body was under. John studied his men's handiwork and was pleased with the result.

Rayner was standing behind the man, wiping his hands off on a rag. "Find Jacobs and get ready to leave. Rosh will fill you in on the details," John ordered.

"Yes sir." Rayner tossed the rag aside, pulled off his ski mask, and started for the door.

"Rayner?" John called after him. "Keep an eye on Rosh," he said in warning.

Rayner nodded and closed the door behind him. Rayner was aware that John had his reservations about trusting Rosh.

John turned his attention back to their prisoner and narrowed his eyes. A mixture of saliva and blood dripped from his mouth as he made a small whimpering sound.

"I think if we do anymore you will not be able to recognize him," Rogers added.

"No, this is good," John confirmed. He walked over toward a makeshift table created from a couple of wooden crates and grabbed the camera. John turned on the power and looked through the lens. Having the camera in his hand reminded him of Lexie. He wanted to bring her back to him. She was all he had left of Mary now.

"This was the message I was going for," John confirmed.

John pa.s.sed the camera to Rogers before loosening his tie and pulling it from his collar. He rolled up his sleeves, pulled on a pair of gloves, and picked up a black ski mask.

Once John's ident.i.ty was disguised, Rogers. .h.i.t record on the camera. John picked up a pair of wire snips sitting among an a.s.sortment of tools. Turning his attention back to their captive, he tilted his chin up so his head flopped backward. A low moan rumbled from his chest as he started to come to. John ran the snips along his cheek. His victim opened his eyes slightly and started to make a pained sound from the back of his throat that quickly turned into pleas. John watched a tear drip from his eye and mingle with the blood upon his cheek.

"Please...no..." The man's voice was barely recognizable as he forced it through his swollen throat, tears now streamed down his face.

John shoved a rag into the man's mouth and placed a piece of duct tape over it to m.u.f.fle the man's screams that he knew would soon follow. The man was so weak from his torture he couldn't resist as John gagged him.

John dropped his gaze toward the man's hand that was taped to the arms of the chairs. His fingers tightened their hold, turning white. John pried his little finger off the arm rest and placed the wire cutters around the flesh, squeezing tightly.

A m.u.f.fled scream tore through his throat as he jerked so violently that the chair sc.r.a.ped along the floor. John didn't stop until the cutters pushed through the entirety of his finger and severed it from his hand. Blood poured down the arm of the chair and splattered on the floor as the man cried out in agony.

John held up the dismembered finger for the camera before tossing it along with the snips onto the table. Rogers stopped recording and set the camera down.

"What do you want me to do with him now?" Rogers asked over the cries that echoed in the room.

"Wait till dark and take him to Trent Baker's place. He can keep him there until anything changes," John said. "Bandage up his hand so he doesn't get blood everywhere and clean this place up."

John turned toward his victim. "I'm sure you can understand that we can't have your sister stirring up s.h.i.t," John said as he tapped him on the side of the cheek. "She needs to learn a lesson if she is going to be a detective in this town." John pulled off the gloves and threw them on the table. He noticed blood on his arm and grabbed the rag off the table to wipe it off. "Keep him gagged until he stops making noise."

John took the camera from Rogers and headed back toward his office. He didn't want to waste any time getting the footage into the right hands. John smiled to himself, it hadn't taken him long to find what he needed to make sure Detective Haffey would not interfere with his business again.

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

Jackson Opening his eyes, Jackson stared up at the ceiling of Lexie's dark bedroom. His mind raced from his dream that danced too close to danger. He placed his hands over his face and took a deep breath. He knew it was just a dream, but he couldn't shake off the lingering emotions. Normally whiskey and sleeping pills would ensure a dreamless night, but he couldn't risk it now. He needed a clear mind for what lay ahead. Fear of failing to keep Lexie safe plagued him and there were too many unknowns to put his mind at ease.

There was a reason Stodden had secured his position. He was a man who calculated every move and knew how to work the angle. Jackson needed to be smarter to stay a step ahead. He had exhausted all his informants and he knew the time was near where he needed to act on what he knew. It was nowhere near a perfect plan but Jackson had gone with much less before.

The reason Lexie's plan bothered him so much was because it would have been what he would have insisted upon if it was anyone else but he didn't want to put Lexie in that position again. He couldn't stand the thought of putting her in danger. Stodden was unpredictable and he did not trust that Lexie would be safe with him even though they shared the same blood. Jackson knew he was wasting too much time trying to come up with a solution. Their window of advantage was already closing.

He was terrified to loosen his hold on Lexie. He had lost too much in this lifetime that the fear of losing her was enough to bring him to his knees. She had become his everything, the very heart beating in his chest.

Jackson reached for Lexie but she was no longer in bed. He pushed himself up and glanced around the empty room. The lingering panic from his dream tightened its grip. Jackson soundlessly climbed out of bed and pulled on his jeans. He grabbed his gun off the nightstand; a habit from years of living in danger.

Jackson stepped out into the hall. The bathroom light was not on and there was no sign of Lexie as he headed toward the stairs. The darkness of the house was heavy and ominous as Jackson kept his gun in front of him. He could not shake the feelings from his dream that had played a similar scenario. His head was reeling with fear.

When he neared the top of the stairs he noticed a silhouette in Lexie's mother's room. Jackson lowered his gun and came to stand in the doorway. Lexie was standing against the window with her hands pressed against the gla.s.s. Lexie glanced over at him when she noticed him.

"You scared me when I woke up and you were gone," Jackson said as he tucked the gun in the back of his pants.

"I couldn't sleep," Lexie said as she looked back out at the dark property.

Jackson walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. He loved how she melted into his arms, like she needed him as much as he needed her.

"I think I remember something," Lexie whispered as she wrapped her arms around his and squeezed tightly.

Jackson placed a kiss on the top of her head, enjoying the peace of having her in his arms after the panic of his waking without her in bed. "What's that?"

"When I was young, I remember waking up from a bad dream and coming into my mother's room to crawl in bed with her. I did that often when I was little. She would always wrap her arms around me and hold me until I feel asleep." Lexie took a deep breath before she continued. "She wasn't in bed. When I looked out the window I saw her down there." Lexie pointed toward a bed of flowers. "She was digging in the dirt in the middle of the night. I remember being scared, like I was seeing something I shouldn't, so I crawled in bed and waited for her to come in.

"I can still remember when she finally came to bed. She pulled me close and wrapped us tightly in the covers. She thought I was asleep, but I was waiting for her. She smelled like fresh soil and it lulled me to sleep.

"The next morning when she made breakfast she told me we were going to buy some flowers and start a garden. It was the beginning of her love of gardening."

Jackson stayed quiet as she visited the memory of her mother. "I think she buried something there. What if it's what we're looking for?" Lexie spun around in his arms. "I think we should dig it up."

"I'll go get a shovel," Jackson replied without hesitation.

The moon was full as it cast substantial light down upon the ground, making the use of flashlights unnecessary. Jackson had been digging for the better part of an hour. Lexie couldn't remember exactly where her mother had been that night; only the general area. After carefully transplanting some of the plants Lexie wanted to salvage, he began digging. Lexie waited beside him with her arms wrapped around herself, feeling the chill despite the oversized sweater she wore.

Jackson could tell she was on edge, every sound in the distance made her nervous. "I think I just heard something," Lexie said anxiously.

Jackson stopped moving and listened. The only sounds he heard were the normal sounds one would hear in nature. "I don't hear anything," Jackson said, looking at Lexie.

"It might be just the breeze, or over my overactive imagination." Lexie said, rubbing her arms. "Is this a first for you? Digging in the middle of the night?"

Jackson frowned for a moment. "Actually, no. It's not even my second." Jackson tossed some dirt up onto the top of the growing pile.

"Should I even ask?" Lexie raised her brow.

"Probably best you don't," Jackson admitted. The hole was getting larger and larger and Jackson could tell Lexie was starting to get disappointed. He was not so easily deterred; if there was the slightest chance they would find the evidence Lexie's mother referred to, he would dig up the entire yard.

When Jackson's shovel met resistance, he immediately began to uncover something that looked like a box. Lexie leaned down to get a closer look as Jackson cleared away the dirt.

"Oh my G.o.d," Lexie said, looking at the box.

Jackson grabbed hold of it and pulled it free. Finding the box was like a weight being lifted off his shoulders. It was a plastic container about the size of a milk crate and didn't weigh much. He hoped whatever was inside would be something that would give them the weight they needed to make John Stodden's reign crumble beneath his feet.

Jackson stepped out of the hole and dropped it in front of Lexie. He pried the cover off and looked inside. Lexie held her phone up to shine a light inside. Jackson picked up the contents that were sealed in a plastic bag and heavily taped. It looked to be dry and Jackson was hopeful whatever was inside would be in good condition.

The sound of a branch snapping alerted them both. Lexie shoved her phone in her pocket to hide the light. They both listened for any other noise but their surroundings were suddenly too quiet and Jackson did not like the uneasy feeling that suddenly crawled up his spine.

"Let's get inside," Jackson suggested as he grabbed Lexie's hand. "I'll fix this in the morning."

Once inside, Jackson closed the door and turned the lock. He pushed the curtain aside on the small window to make sure it was clear before he joined Lexie at the kitchen table.

"Do you think someone is out there?" Lexie asked, looking nervously at the door.

"We're good." Jackson tried to ease her concern but the truth was he wasn't sure.

Lexie grabbed a pair of scissors from the kitchen and began cutting the tape. Jackson walked up beside her and watched as she opened the bag and pulled out files and a handful of floppy disks.

"How are we supposed to find out what's on these?" Lexie looked at the stack of disks.

"Teddy got a bunch of info off some of these my dad had stored away," Jackson said, turning his attention toward the files.

"I don't know what any of this means," Lexie confessed.

"I do," Jackson said, taking the file as Lexie pa.s.sed it to him. "This one is business transactions." Jackson flipped open the other files. "Contacts; it looks like John had background checks on everyone he dealt with...bank account information...holy s.h.i.t, no wonder John wanted these back. It may be only pieces of the bigger picture and out of date, but there is no way he can avoid prosecution with this evidence presented against him." Jackson picked up the file with the contacts in it and skimmed through the names. He didn't stop until he found the name he was looking for-Mark Rosh.

"Son of a b.i.t.c.h," Jackson cursed. He knew Rosh was guilty, but seeing his name in print was still painful. Jackson dropped the file on the table. "Who knows what's on those disks, but whatever it is, it will only make this case stronger. I have to call Haffey," Jackson said as he took pictures of the papers with his phone.

"The cop?" Lexie asked with a frown.

"I promised her I would keep her informed. It was the only way to keep her from reporting me and using you and Stephanie as witnesses. She knows I can get closer to Stodden than she can. Not to mention that I may have told her we had this..." Jackson waved his hands to the files. "It may have been the convincing factor," Jackson admitted.

"I know this is none of my business, but were you and this detective ever a thing?" Lexie asked with a slight crease forming between her brows.

"A thing?" Jackson asked with a raised brow. He could see the color crawling up Lexie's neck.

"I'm just curious. The past is the past, but it's just..." Lexie trailed off uncomfortably. "Never mind."

"I slept with her, once, before you. It was a mistake, but other than that, our relationship is strictly business," Jackson confessed truthfully. He didn't want to keep any secrets from Lexie. He hoped that because she asked, she was ready for the truth. He wasn't quite sure how she would feel about knowing.

Lexie shook her head and blew out a breath. "The idiot was right."

"What idiot?" Jackson questioned.

Jackson barely had the words formed when they both heard a loud bang on the front step. Jackson pulled his gun out and headed toward the window. "Stay back," he told Lexie as he pushed the curtain aside to look on onto the porch. He didn't see anyone there, but the rocking chair on the front step was knocked over; it now lay haphazardly against the house. Jackson opened the door and slipped outside. Holding up his gun, he surveyed the front yard for any sign of anyone.

Jackson stepped back inside. "Stay here, I'm gonna look around outside."

Lexie jumped and grabbed for the pair of scissors on the table when she heard the door handle of the rear door rattle. Jackson darted into the kitchen. Lexie was gripping the scissors so tightly her fingers were white as he motioned for her to step back into the kitchen and away from the door.

Jackson used the barrel of his gun to push the back door curtain aside to see who was on the back step. Mike was standing on the other side and began hitting his fist against the door. "I know she's here," Mike called out.

Jackson opened the door enough that Mike could see him. "What the f.u.c.k do you want?"

"I know Stephanie's here. She hasn't been home. She's with him, isn't she?" Mike said accusingly.

"She's not here," Jackson said sternly. He could tell Mike was drunk, his bloodshot eyes were glazed over and his shirt was torn. There was even dried blood on his lip and Jackson suspected he had gotten into a bar fight before wandering this way.

"Let him in." Lexie relaxed her hand with the scissors but still held onto them. "This is the idiot," Lexie said with a shake of her head.

Jackson looked at Mike and wondered how the h.e.l.l this drunken piece of work came up with the fact that he had slept with Detective Haffey. Him mentioning it to Lexie only succeeded in making him dislike him more.

Mike pushed his way past Jackson and stumbled into the kitchen.

"She's not here, Mike." Lexie stepped in front of his path.

"Her parents went back home...said she was staying with you," Mike said angrily. "I need to talk to her."

"She needed to get away for a while. She's not here. Go home, Mike." Lexie raised her hands and Mike slapped them away.

Jackson grabbed him by the back of the shirt and hauled him backward. "She said to f.u.c.king leave." Jackson shoved Mike back against the wall and pressed his gun under his chin.

"Jackson," Lexie said, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

"Oh Christ, what's happening here?" Cherry walked out into the main living area as she pulled the strings of her robe tighter.

"Mike was just leaving," Jackson insisted.

"I'm not leaving until I speak to Stephanie," Mike bit off. He was clearly too drunk to register the threat of Jackson's gun. Mike began to struggle, giving Jackson no option but to knock him out. Lexie gasped when Jackson delivered the blow and Mike's body collapsed against the wall and slid down to the floor.

"You just knocked him out!" Lexie gasped in surprise.

"Should I call the cops?" Cherry asked with a raised brow.

"No," Lexie answered. "He just needs to sleep this off. He gets irrational when he's drunk. Did you notice if Evan was awake? We might need him to take Mike home."

"I gave him some sleeping pills. He's out like a baby until morning," Cherry said.

"I'll take him home," Jackson suggested. "You two call me if anything*even the wind*sounds funny." Jackson watched Cherry walk closer to Lexie and wrap her arm around her.

"We'll be fine," Lexie insisted. "Thanks, Jackson."

"Take this." Jackson held out his gun toward Lexie. She wrapped her fingers around the hilt. "Don't take any chances and don't open the doors. I won't be long." Jackson grabbed Mike's heavy body and hauled him up to his feet. Mike was dead weight and difficult to maneuver, but he managed to get him over his shoulder and outside. He reeked like stale beer and smoke, and Jackson prayed he could hold his liquor, because the last thing he wanted was to have Mike lose the contents of his stomach in his car.

Jackson opened his truck and dropped Mike inside. He gave a slight moan of complaint but he didn't rouse. He wasn't taking the risk of having him wake up when he was driving. Mike was obviously out of control, and the last thing he wanted was to give him the opportunity to do something stupid. Jackson closed the trunk and jumped into the driver's seat. He didn't want to be gone any longer than necessary.