Corbin weakly shook his head. “The boss... Jenna... she did it.”
I leaned in closer, my heart hammering against my ribs. “What did Jenna do?”
Corbin let out a bitter, gurgling laugh. “She took the money. I found out... she found the stash. She took the cash... left the kid... for Vance.”
Corbin’s head rolled back. His eyes fixed on the rotting ceiling, and the last breath rattled out of his lungs.
I dropped him, disgust washing over me.
My theory was completely validated. Jenna had sold her daughter, stolen Corbin’s cut of the trafficking money, and run.
“Elias,” Boone said sharply, his gun pointed toward the metal staircase leading to the second-floor supervisor's office.
We heard the faint, distinct sound of heavy canvas dragging across the floorboards above us.
Someone was still up there.
I signaled for Boone to take the left side of the stairs while I took the right. I moved silently up the metal grating, my gun raised, my finger resting lightly on the trigger.
I reached the top landing and peered around the doorframe into the dim office.
Standing by a shattered window, staring blankly out at the maze of shipping containers, was Jenna.
She was completely alone.
She was still wearing the blue medical scrubs from the hospital video. In her trembling hands, she held a massive, black canvas duffel bag.
“Don't move,” I ordered, stepping into the room with my weapon leveled at her chest.
Jenna flinched, dropping the heavy duffel bag to the ground. The zipper burst open upon impact.
Thick, banded stacks of hundred-dollar bills spilled out across the dusty floor. It was hundreds of thousands of dollars.
Miller and Boone stepped into the room behind me, their eyes locking onto the scattered cash.
“Where is Maya?” I demanded, keeping my sights fixed perfectly on Jenna.
Jenna turned to face me. Her face was heavily bruised, her lip split exactly like in the photographs, but her eyes were completely hollow. She looked like a woman whose soul had already left her body.
“She’s gone,” Jenna whispered, her voice completely devoid of emotion.
I stepped forward, my boots crunching on broken glass, and kicked the pile of money.
“Corbin is dead downstairs,” I said coldly. “He told me you took his money. He told me you left Maya behind to save yourself.”
Jenna looked down at the money, then slowly raised her eyes to meet mine.
I expected her to beg. I expected her to cry. I expected her to deny it.
Instead, Jenna looked me dead in the eye and said, “I did exactly what I had to do.”
The absolute coldness in Jenna’s voice snapped the last thread of my restraint.
I crossed the room in two massive strides, grabbed her by the shoulders of her scrubs, and slammed her hard against the peeling drywall.
“You sold your own child!” I roared, the pain in my bleeding arm flaring hot and sharp. “You hid a box of evidence under the floor, told her to wait for someone safe, and then you stole Corbin’s blood money and handed her directly to the cartel!”
Boone stepped forward nervously. “Elias, ease up.”
I ignored him, keeping Jenna pinned. “Tell me where the man with the snake tattoo took her! If you don't tell me right now, I swear to God I will leave you in this room with Corbin’s body and let the cops find you with a bag full of stolen cash.”
Jenna didn't cower. She didn't weep.
Instead, she fought back.
She shoved both her hands against my chest with a surprising, desperate strength, breaking my grip. She didn't run. She stood her ground, her bruised face twisting in pure, unadulterated fury.
“You think I sold her?” Jenna screamed, her voice cracking violently. “You think I took this money to run away? I stole this money to buy her back!”
The room suddenly fell dead silent, save for the patter of freezing rain against the shattered window.
I stared at her, my gun slightly lowering. “What?”