TWO
“I want to see the other two murder sites,” Mercy told Eddie as she drove toward Eagle’s Nest.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him nod as he focused on a file in his lap.
“They’re both on the other side of Eagle’s Nest,” he replied. “I’ll pull up the location of the first.”
The two agents had driven directly to Ned Fahey’s hideaway from Portland after Mercy’s office exchanged several phone calls with Bend’s supervisory senior resident agent (SSRA). The other two murders had taken place closer to the city of Eagle’s Nest, but the locations were still a good half hour from the Bend office. The Bend office needed help, Mercy’s supervisor had explained as she told the two of them about their temporary assignment. It had only five agents, a few support staff, and no domestic terrorism agents.
“Because of the victims’ histories, the large number of missing weapons from all three murders could point to someone preparing for a domestic terrorism event.”
Her boss’s words rang in her head. Several dozen guns were missing from the first two murder sites, and Ned Fahey had buried a large illegal stash on his property.
An event. A calm way of saying a group might be gearing up to overtake a federal building. Or worse.
The rain clouds had blown off as they left Ned Fahey’s home, and now blue sky peeked through as they departed the denser forest, headed for lower altitudes. As they pulled away from the foothills, Mercy spotted the white mountain peaks of the Cascades in her rearview mirror, thrilled she could see several at a time. She’d taken the sight for granted as a kid. In Portland she saw primarily one peak; on a clear day she might see one or two more. But in this part of Central Oregon, where the skies were often blue, multiple peaks gleamed.
The air felt cleaner too.
She headed down a straight stretch of highway, tall pines towering along both sides of the road.
“Hey. The trees changed color,” Eddie said as he stared out the window.
“They changed back where we crested the Cascade Range. Those are ponderosa pines and they’re a paler green than the firs you’re used to on our side of the Cascades. The trunks are redder too.”
“What are the silvery, scrubby-looking bushes everywhere?”
“Sagebrush.”
“The forest feels different over here,” Eddie remarked. “There’s still giant green trees everywhere, but the underbrush isn’t dense at all like on the west side. Tons of rocks here too.”
“The pines will thin out soon. And you’ll see acres of ranchland and lava rocks and brush depending on where you go.”
Mercy noticed her knuckles were white as she gripped the steering wheel. She drove without thinking, instinctively heading toward the town where she’d spent the first eighteen years of her life.
“Turn at the next left,” Eddie instructed.
I know.
“I grew up in Eagle’s Nest.”
Eddie’s head jerked up, and she felt his stare bore into the side of her head. She kept her eyes on the road.
“I don’t believe that you remembered that particular fact two seconds ago,” Eddie stated. “Why didn’t you say something? Does the boss know?”
“She knows. I left home when I was eighteen and haven’t been back. Family stuff, you know.”
He shifted in his seat to face her. “I hear a good story percolating, Special Agent Kilpatrick. Spill it.”
“No story.” She refused to look at him.
“Bullshit. You haven’t been home since you were eighteen? Did they beat you? Do they belong to a cult?”
She gave a short laugh. “Neither.” Not exactly.
“Then what? You’ve talked to them, right? E-mails? Texts? Leaving home means you simply didn’t return to the town, right?” He looked out the windshield at the trees. “I haven’t seen anything out here to make me want to drive the four hours.”
Mercy pressed her lips together, wishing she’d not started the conversation. “There’s been no contact at all. Nothing.”
“What? Do you have siblings?”
“Four.”
“Four? And you’ve never called or e-mailed any of them?”
She shook her head, unable to speak.
“What’s wrong with your family? My mom would fry me if she didn’t hear from me at least once a month.”
“They’re different.” Understatement. “Can we not discuss this right now?”
“You brought it up.”
“I know I did, and I’ll tell you about it later.” Maybe. She took the final turn into Eagle’s Nest and drove down the two-lane road she knew would take them through the center of town.
She slowed to the posted twenty-five miles per hour. The lofty name Eagle’s Nest implied that the town sat on a hill, grandly overlooking a valley. It lied. Eagle’s Nest sat on the flat. The town’s elevation was three thousand feet, but so was that of the hundreds of acres surrounding it. She drove past the schools, craning her neck to get a good look. According to the rusting signs, the older building still housed the high school, while the larger “new” building still held K–8. The “new” building had been constructed in the seventies, before she was born. Behind the old building she saw the lights for the football field and stands. New red bleachers stood on one side of the field.
September. Should be a football game this weekend.
“Did you go to school there?” Eddie asked.
“Yes.”
The road took a sharp turn. On her left the sawmill was still closed. Its roof sagged more than she remembered, and weathered plywood covered all the windows. The familiar sign was gone. The mill had been abandoned when she was quite young, but it’d always had a big sign with a message board out front. In her teens the town had used the tall message board to post event dates in mismatched letters, but for a long time before that it’d simply proclaimed: We’ll be back.
All that was left now was a jagged, broken metal post, and Mercy felt a small pin stab her heart. It’d been everyone’s habit to check the board to keep a finger on the pulse of the community. Senior citizen birthdays. Fairs. Bake sales.
Now they probably post on the city’s Facebook page.
Everyone in the community had sworn the lumber mill would reopen. She’d heard it over and over. At one time the city had kept the mill’s property free of dumped garbage and replaced the windows broken by stupid kids. “Someone will buy it. We simply need the right business to come along.”
The missing message board said the town had lost faith.
The mill was a victim of poor economics, federal policies on tree harvests, and increased conservation measures. Now it looked like a good location to create a Halloween haunted house.
She kept driving. Suddenly one- and two-story buildings lined both sides of the street. She scanned their signs. Several were new to her, but some hadn’t changed. Eagle’s Nest Police Department, Eagle’s Nest City Hall, Grand Movie Theater, Post Office, John Deere Dealership. She noticed a church had been converted to a senior center. The old Norwood home now called itself “Sandy’s Bed & Breakfast.”
Eddie pointed at a tiny shop. “Hey, that looks promising. I need caffeine. Pull over.”
Mercy pulled into a slanted parking space, remembering how she’d had to learn to parallel park when she moved to Portland. It wasn’t a skill needed in tiny towns. The Coffee Café occupied a building where she’d once spent hours as a teen browsing used books. It looked fresh and updated, and the Illy brand coffee sign in the window suggested the owners took their coffee seriously. The store was a small, bright flower in the depressing gray of the streets and tired buildings. She glanced up and down the street. A few trucks drove past, but no one strolled the sidewalks.
The bell jangled as they pulled open the door. Mercy unzipped her jacket, appreciating the rush of heat and coffee scents.
“Hi there.” A teenage girl popped out of a doorway behind the counter. “What can I get for you?”
She was cute and smiley, with a perky ponytail. She regarded them with faint curiosity, but she was polite and kept her questions to herself. Mercy studied the chalkboard menu just inside the door as Eddie stepped forward and ordered something with a triple shot. The girl started his espresso, and Eddie looked over his shoulder at Mercy. “She could be you twenty years ago,” he said in a low voice, a question in his eyes.
Uh-oh.
Mercy moved to get a better look at their barista. The girl’s hair was lighter, but the eyes and the shape of her face were spot-on. Pearl’s daughter? Owen’s? She admired the small gemstone stud in the girl’s nose. Whoever she was, she had a rebellious streak. Mercy’s parents would have ripped the stud out every time they saw it.
“I’ll take an Americano. Do you have heavy cream instead of half-and-half?” Mercy asked as she stepped closer. The barista met her gaze, nodded enthusiastically, and went back to creating heaven in a cup.
Whoever she was, the sight of Mercy meant nothing to her.
Mercy breathed out a sigh of relief.
“Do you live in town?” Eddie asked the barista as Mercy silently cursed him. The agent liked people and enjoyed hearing their stories. He’d start up a conversation while waiting in line at the grocery store.
The girl smiled. “Just outside of town.”
“You aren’t working here alone, are you?”
At the flash of alarm in the barista’s eyes, Mercy punched him in the arm.
“I mean . . . I’m not a weirdo. I’m wondering about your safety,” Eddie said lamely.
“Ignore him,” Mercy said with a smile meant to calm the startled girl. “He means well and he’s harmless.”
“My father’s in back,” she said tentatively. The sunshine drained out of her face, and she eyed Eddie with caution.
“That’s good,” admitted Eddie. “Didn’t mean to freak you out.”
The barista held up their cups. Mercy reached for both, and watched the girl’s gaze shoot to Mercy’s left side under her jacket. “You’re law enforcement,” the girl said as she nodded toward the weapon.
“Doesn’t everyone around here carry?” asked Eddie in a joking tone.
“Usually revolvers, not Glocks.” Interest lit up her eyes. “Is this because of the men that were murdered recently? I heard Ned Fahey was found dead this morning.”
The gossip chain was in full swing.
“Kaylie? Everything okay?” a tall man asked sharply as he stepped into the doorway behind the barista, his broad shoulders filling the space.
Mercy’s heart stopped as she locked eyes with the man. Shock swept his face.
“Holy shit!” he muttered.
“Dad!”
“Sorry, hon.”
He was big and dark haired, with a thick beard that hadn’t grayed. Mercy had never seen him with a beard, but she recognized her brother instantly. She didn’t speak, letting Levi decide what to do. He looked from her to his daughter and then back again, taking in Eddie in the same glance.
“You from out of town to investigate the murders?” he asked Eddie. “I didn’t realize the FBI was involved. That seems odd.”
Mercy swallowed. Her brother had ignored her. But he knew they were FBI. That meant he knew what she did for a living. He hadn’t abandoned her completely.
“We come when our help is requested,” Eddie replied noncommittally.
“Didn’t know anyone had asked,” said Levi. He looked at Mercy, all recognition gone from his eyes. “Coffee’s on the house today.”
“We appreciate it, but we’ll pay,” said Eddie. He pulled cash out of his wallet and gave Mercy a side-eyed questioning glance. What the fuck is going on?
She couldn’t move. Or speak. Her fingers had frozen to the hot cups in her hands.
“Have a good day,” Kaylie said automatically as she handed Eddie his change.
He dropped it in the tip jar. “You too.” He took his cup out of Mercy’s hand, his gaze still questioning her.
Mercy took one last lingering look at her niece and then at her brother. Levi turned and vanished without acknowledging her again. She followed Eddie out into the cold and got in their car. She held her coffee with both hands, unable to look at the other agent.
“That guy clearly knew you but didn’t say anything,” Eddie stated. “And since the barista who looks exactly like you is his daughter, I assume he’s your brother?” His voice cracked on the final word.
Mercy nodded and sipped her coffee. Damn. She’d forgotten to add the heavy cream.
“Who doesn’t acknowledge his sister? Not that you said anything either,” he muttered. “So I assume whatever the issue is, it goes both ways? Did you know that was his coffee place?”
“No.”
Eddie sighed and took a long swig out of his paper cup. “Sorry, Mercy. None of my business.” He paused for all of two seconds. “Tell me you knew that was your niece.”
“No. I suspected it once you pointed it out, but I didn’t know which sibling of mine she belonged to.”
“You knew this brother had kids, right?”
“One.”
“He didn’t wear a wedding ring. Was he married?”
“No. When I left, his girlfriend wouldn’t let him visit their one-year-old daughter. I guess that changed.” Mercy set down her cup and started the car. “Let’s get going to the other crime scene before it’s full dark.” She backed out of the parking space. Embarrassment with a small spark of fury flushed her face. She hadn’t heard a peep out of her family in fifteen years.
What other surprises waited for her in Eagle’s Nest?