FOURTEEN
“I heard Tom McDonald is out of town,” Jeff, Mercy’s supervisor, commented as she stopped in the doorway to his office.
“I take it Eddie told you about our visit already?” Mercy asked. “I was stopping by to bring you up-to-date. What are you doing in the office on a weekend, anyway?”
“When someone has murdered law enforcement officers, every day is Monday for me. Will McDonald call you when he gets back?”
She raised a brow at him.
“Didn’t think so. Continue to stop by his place until you talk to him.”
“His ranch isn’t exactly on my way to work. Today’s trip took a big chunk of my day, but I’ll keep at it.”
“Don’t go alone.” Jeff tapped at his keyboard, his gaze on his screen.
Mercy’s hackles rose. “Would you say that if I was Eddie?”
Jeff sighed and leaned back in his chair, bringing his hands together across his chest in a way that made her feel as if she were about to get a lecture from her father. “I would say that to Eddie. A remote location staffed with a bunch of rednecks who don’t want law enforcement poking around? You bet I’d tell him to not go alone.”
Mercy backed down. “Sorry. You’re right. And I wouldn’t have thought twice about heading out there on my own, so it’s a good thing you brought it up. I grew up around places like that and it feels familiar . . . as if I share roots with them. But I need to look at it from an LEO perspective, not as a local.” She frowned, realizing she’d hit the nail on the head. She still saw herself as one of them; therefore they wouldn’t hurt her. A potentially reckless train of thought. People saw only her badge.
“Your roots offer you no protection around here. You haven’t been a local for a long time.”
“I keep being reminded of that, but some days it feels like I never left. Any additional updates on our cases?”
“We haven’t had a new fire in a few days.”
“Does that mean we’re due for flames or that they’ve backed off?” Mercy asked.
“Perhaps Joshua Pence was our fire starter. He did have the gasoline on his clothing.”
True. “But I’m bothered by Clyde Jenkins’s report that he saw his fire starters running. And the Parkers thought they heard young voices. Pence doesn’t fit either of those descriptions.”
“We’re still processing evidence from the first two big fires. Hopefully we’ll catch a break before the next one.”
“I hope so.”
Jeff waved her away and went back to his keyboard. Mercy stopped at her desk to grab her bag and headed out the door to her Tahoe, feeling the need to revisit the scene where the deputies had been shot. She could stop and chat with Tilda Brass, even though Truman and Jeff had reported she suffered from some memory loss.
A quick call to Tilda Brass resulted in an invitation to tea at 4:00 p.m. Mercy didn’t think she’d “had tea” since she’d held tea parties as a child with Rose. Tilda’s home was far out of town, so she got an early start and drove past the Bend city limits and down the two-lane highway toward the Brass property, making a mental note to check in with Bill Trek and see if the fire marshal had any fire investigation updates.
A pickup started to pass her on the highway and she slowed the slightest bit, remembering how the long straight stretch of road had always been a favorite with teenagers for impromptu drag races.
Her Tahoe jerked hard as the passing truck smacked her left rear fender and her vehicle spun in front of the truck across the oncoming lane. Her mind blanked and she clenched the wheel as the landscape blurred outside her windows. She hit the brakes as her vehicle flew off the road and rocketed down the shoulder.
Metal screeched and scraped on rock as she hit the lava rocks at the bottom. Her airbag smacked her in the face and knocked the breath out of her lungs. Her Tahoe rocked to an abrupt stop at a sharp angle, the rear of the vehicle too high and her chest pressing against her seat belt, which suspended her in the cab. She fought to catch her breath and slow her pounding heart.
He pulled a fucking PIT maneuver!
A favorite move of officers everywhere to stop errant vehicles. She’d trained on the maneuver at Quantico, but memories of how to respond when on the receiving end had disintegrated the moment he’d struck her Tahoe. And to be fair, she’d never experienced it at sixty miles an hour.
She braced herself, hit the seat belt button, and slid out of the SUV, dropping two feet more to the ground than usual, and brushed airbag dust off her clothes. Her legs shook as she stepped back to inspect her vehicle, and she leaned weakly against a big rock, welcoming its solid, immovable presence. The rear axle of the Tahoe had come to rest on huge boulders, its back tires nowhere near the ground.
I’m not going anywhere.
She pulled out her phone, trying to recall any description of the pickup that’d hit her. She had impressions, not memories. She thought it had been dark red, and there might have been two men in the cab, but she wasn’t certain.
Why? Who’d run me off the road?
Her brain refused to consider the question; its current primary goal was to get help.
She called 911 and reported the incident, advising the operator that the truck might have body damage on its right front end. After reassuring the operator that she wasn’t injured, she hung up and scrambled up the incline to the highway. Her truck had ended up in a spot a dozen feet lower than the road.
They picked a good spot. If I’d been injured, no one would have seen me.
She fumed. Pure luck had kept her Tahoe from rolling. The shoulder where she’d gone off the highway was wide and level before gently angling down to the rocks. If it’d been soft dirt or a more abrupt incline, she would have rolled across the big lava rocks. She called Eddie.
“Are you sure you’re not hurt?” he asked. “Sometimes you don’t realize it until later.”
“My back and neck probably won’t be happy with me tomorrow,” she admitted. “But I’m okay now. Can you pick me up and then take me to get a rental car?”
“I’ll pick you up, but then I’m taking you to the hospital. You’re not going anywhere until your spine is x-rayed. And Jeff will agree with me.”
“Crap.” She didn’t have time for this.
“Did you call Truman?”
“Not yet.”
“Do it.”
“I don’t want to interrupt him while he’s working. I’m fine and you’re my ride. I’ll tell him later tonight.”
Eddie sighed in the phone. “You don’t know anything about men, do you?”
“I don’t need Truman to come pick me up. I’m on the job, so I called a coworker. That’s what I should do, right?”
“Call and tell him what happened. Don’t make me call him.”
“Why would you do it?” Exasperation made her want to shake him.
“Call it a man code thing. When your friend’s woman has been in an accident, you let the dude know.”
“That’s the most caveman thing I’ve ever heard you say.” She didn’t know whether to be shocked, flattered, or amused. “I didn’t realize there was a thing between you and Truman.”
“Just do it, okay?” he pleaded. “Tell him I’m on my way and that I’m taking you to the hospital.”
“Call me a tow too,” she said before they ended the call.
She looked down at her vehicle and wondered when it’d be drivable again. She liked the Tahoe. It’d become her buddy, and she felt safe and secure while driving it. What if the damage underneath is too much to repair? The thought depressed her.
She went to clear her things out of the vehicle, starting with her always-ready backpack stashed in the back. Her truck was also well supplied with equipment for her job. She’d have to transfer it to Eddie’s car before the tow truck arrived.
She sat on a rock by the Tahoe and called Tilda, canceling their tea date, promising to do it tomorrow.
Then she called Truman.
“So I wrecked my Tahoe,” she blurted when he answered.
“Are you okay?” he nearly shouted.
“I’m fine. There’s no fuss needed. I’m just pissed because I screwed up and now I’ll have to miss an appointment.”
“What happened?” he asked in a calmer voice.
She relayed the whole story, feeling slightly unnerved as he grew very, very quiet while she spoke.
“That’s all you remember of the vehicle that ran you off the road?” he finally asked.
“Sadly yes. Some investigator I am.”
“Did you go anywhere for work today?”
She told him about her and Eddie’s trip to Tom McDonald’s ranch.
“Any chance the vehicle could have been from there?”
“I can’t rule it out.” She rubbed at her forehead, feeling a dull ache start in her brain. Why didn’t I look closer at the truck before it passed? Could that little squinty-eyed ass from the ranch have run her off the road?
The thought made her headache worsen.
“When’s Eddie going to get there?”
“Soon. And I’m supposed to tell you he’s taking me to get my back x-rayed.”
“Good.”
“Then I’ll need a rental.”
“You won’t get one tonight. By the time you’re out of the ER, it’ll be too late.”
He’s right. Dammit.
“I’ll meet you at the ER.”
“That’s not necessary. I don’t want you to have to—”
“I’ll meet you at the ER.” Anger infused his tone.
Eddie’s earlier words about Truman ran through her head. “Okay.”
They ended the call, and she went back up the slope to keep an eye out for Eddie. A Good Samaritan stopped to see if she needed help. The driver had to be in her seventies and insisted on waiting until Mercy’s ride showed up. “I can’t leave another woman alone on the side of the road out here. If you don’t want a ride, I’ll just wait here until yours shows up.” She offered Mercy the warmth of her car, but Mercy turned it down, preferring to stand outside where Eddie could easily see her.
The cold cleared her head, and the more she thought about the wreck, the more convinced she became that someone at the ranch had followed her. She could understand that she’d ruffled some feathers, but not enough to make them hurt her.
Hell, I could have died.
The decision to stand outside resulted in two more Good Samaritans stopping. Mercy finally decided to accept the offer of the warm car, and she called Eddie to tell him to keep an eye out for a two-decades-old white Cadillac on the side of the road.
The woman chatted pleasantly as they waited, and Mercy learned she was a retired nurse.
“Weren’t you worried about stopping for a stranger?” Mercy asked.
“Oh no, honey. I could tell by your face that you were a good girl.”
Mercy thought on that for a while, uncertain whether to take it as a compliment or not.
Eddie showed up and charmed her companion as Mercy transferred the things into his vehicle. The tow truck showed up a minute later, and the driver scratched his head as he eyed the Tahoe stuck on the rocks below the road. Mercy didn’t have any advice to share. He was the expert, and it was now his problem to figure out.
Minutes later they were en route to the ER. Mercy leaned her head against the back of her seat and sighed. “I don’t have time for this.”
“Get over it,” said Eddie. “Let’s make sure you aren’t going to wake up tomorrow with some devastating injury from shards of bone working their way through your spinal cord or internal organs.”
She glared at him. “Thank you for that visual.”
“Truman said he’d be there in about an hour.”
“You called him? I told you I would do it.”
“He called me to see if I’d picked you up yet.”
She didn’t say anything. Knowing that people had talked about her when she wasn’t present made her want to pout like a cranky toddler. Even if their intentions were good. When that was combined with the growing certainty that someone had tried to hurt her, her mood grew darker by the minute.
Tension ratcheting through his veins, Truman followed the nurse’s direction to the curtained-off bed at the end of the small emergency room. He spotted a man’s shoes below the curtain hem.
“Eddie?” he asked.
The FBI agent pushed back the curtain as relief and exhaustion showed in his eyes behind the thick frames of his glasses. “Glad you’re here. I’m taking off.” He tipped his head at Mercy, who perched on the side of the hospital bed in a gown, looking ready to run out the front door. “She’s all yours.”
“I don’t need to be handed off,” Mercy snapped. “I’m not six.”
Eddied rolled his eyes at Truman. “Enjoy,” he silently mouthed.
Truman sat next to Mercy and pulled her into him, kissing her soundly. She leaned into the kiss after a moment of sitting stiffly and then sighed as she rested her head on his shoulder. He swore stress evaporated from her like rain on hot pavement. His own stress lessened as he held her against him and felt her skin touch his. The entire drive to the hospital, he’d worried about hidden injuries, terrified he’d arrive and find her unconscious.
He hugged her tighter.
“Did the X-ray confirm that you’re in one piece?” She smelled like the hospital—bandages and disinfectant. He noticed a Band-Aid on the crook of her arm and wondered if they’d tested her blood for alcohol. If the police had brought her in, he could understand the need for a draw.
“I haven’t been told if I’m in one piece. They took the X-ray thirty minutes ago and I’m waiting for someone to review it. I haven’t busted in half yet, so I assume I’m okay.” She followed his gaze to her arm. “I requested the blood draw. I don’t need some overseeing agency asking if I was drunk when I wrecked government property. Better safe than sorry.”
Irritation dripped from her tone, and he knew it was hard for her to wait. Mercy was a doer. No doubt she would have rustled up her own radiologist and been checked out by now if she’d been allowed. The irritation encouraged him; she sounded like her usual self.
She asked, “Any leads on the vehicle that hit me?”
“None,” said Truman. “Both Deschutes County and my guys are keeping an eye out for a red pickup with some front-end damage.”
“If he’s smart, the driver would have immediately hidden the vehicle.”
“If he was smart, he wouldn’t have run an FBI agent off the road.”
“True,” she agreed.
“Why did they do it?” he asked bluntly. “You must have some ideas.” On the way to the hospital, he’d talked with her boss, who’d also theorized that she and Eddie had stirred up some anger out at the McDonald ranch.
Mercy looked at the floor, clearly mulling over her options. “Most likely it was someone from the McDonald ranch. The move was clearly deliberate, for God’s sake. I spun in front of their vehicle. If it had been accidental, they would have stopped.”
“Unless they were uninsured or scared.”
“True again.”
“Joshua Pence had a red truck that we haven’t located yet.”
Mercy’s gaze flew back to him. “That crossed my mind too. You think it’s been commandeered by someone at the McDonald place?”
“Pearl said Pence came into the coffee shop with McDonald a few times, so it’s possible he worked out there, even though that’s not the story you got when you visited the ranch. The vehicle hasn’t turned up yet, so I wouldn’t be surprised if someone who knew he was dead simply decided to start driving it around.”
“Idiots,” muttered Mercy. “We need to go back there and look at the vehicles out—”
A tired-looking young doctor stepped inside the curtain. “Ms. Kilpatrick. Your films look fine.” He wore light-blue scrubs and running shoes Truman had considered buying until he saw the price was nearly $200. He glanced at Truman and kept talking. “A radiologist will also review the films. You’ll get a separate bill from their office and—”
“I know,” Mercy said, cutting him off. “But you don’t see any issues?”
“No.”
“Can I leave?”
“I’m printing out your discharge papers. You might have some pain and stiffness tomorrow morning. Take some OTC pain relievers and use ice as needed. If you have any severe headaches, I want you back here, or go to your doctor right away.”
“I don’t have a doctor yet,” she said. “I’ve only been here a few months.”
“A good time to find one then,” he said with a polite smile that indicated this wasn’t his problem. He vanished.
“Get dressed.” Truman stepped outside the curtains and stood guard as she changed. A weight lifted off his shoulders in his relief that she hadn’t been hurt.
But who would purposefully run an FBI agent off the road?
He had hard questions for the men at the McDonald ranch.
Truman drove toward her apartment, wishing she would come home with him. She’d said she wanted to be home for Kaylie, to make sure she got up in time for school in the morning. He’d known it would be tough dating a woman with a teenager. Even though Kaylie was pretty self-sufficient, Mercy had a need to be available for her. He had to get over it; the girl had just lost her father.
But sometimes he wanted Mercy to himself.
“Thanks for the ride. You didn’t have to come to the hospital.”
This is enough!
Fury shot through him, and he took a deep breath as he pulled over to the side of the road and turned off the ignition. They were a few blocks from her home. He turned toward her in the SUV’s driver’s seat, his heart pumping and frustration rushing through his limbs. “Why shouldn’t I give you a ride?”
Wide eyes blinked at him. He had her attention.
“Eddie could have driven me. He was already there.”
“Maybe I wanted to drive you. I wanted to be at the hospital.”
“But—”
“No buts. Don’t tell me what I feel.”
“I didn’t want you feeling obligated.”
“I know Eddie had to convince you to let me know about the accident.”
She glared. “That little—”
“He didn’t tell me. Jeff did. Eddie mentioned it to him and Jeff told me when I called him.”
She threw up her hands. “Why is everyone talking about me behind my back?”
“Because we care!” He shoved the words through his clenched teeth to keep from shouting at her.
She opened her mouth to reply, but slammed it shut as she stared at him in the dim light of the cab.
“Why is it so hard for you to let people take care of you?” he asked in a normal voice.
“I don’t need to be taken care of,” she snapped. “I’m an adult.”
“Taken care of isn’t the way I should have phrased it . . . Why is it hard to let people do nice things for you? Why didn’t you want me to know about the accident?”
“Because I knew you’d leave work, and it’s important that you do your job. People rely on you. Cases need your attention. Important cases.”
“You’re important too.”
“But I had Eddie. Why did I need two people to respond? How many people was I supposed to notify that I’d screwed up and gotten run off the road?”
“It wasn’t your fault, and I want you to always call me when shit happens to you.”
A passing car’s headlights illuminated the inside of the SUV, making her green eyes shine. Are those tears?
“Why is this so hard for you?” he asked, gently taking her hand. It was like holding ice.
“I don’t rely on other people. I rely on myself.” She paused for a long moment. “If I wasn’t able to rely on my family—people who are supposed to love me unconditionally—how can I rely on someone I barely know?” Her words ended in a whisper.
It was a fragile moment. She had pulled aside her emotional curtain, exposed her vulnerability. He was scared to move, let alone speak, for fear of her shutting him out. How do I reassure her that she is safe?
“Tell me this,” he said carefully. “Do you want Kaylie to rely and depend on you?”
“Yes! Her world was yanked out from under her, and she needs stability. I want her to know I’ll always be available . . . something I didn’t have after I turned eighteen.”
“Because it’s important that she knows she has people in her life who love her,” he added.
“Absolutely. I wish I’d had that during those hard years.”
“I’m trying to be that person for you.” He held his breath, watching for signs of flight.
She blinked rapidly. “You don’t know me . . . We’ve barely—”
“You haven’t seen Kaylie since she was one. Does that matter to you? Do you need to spend a year getting to know her before you commit to her?”
“It’s not the same!” She tried to jerk her hand out of his, but he tightened his grip, not willing to let her hide so easily.
“Listen.” He waited until she made eye contact. “You’re scared I’m going to not be here tomorrow. Or two months from now. So you hold back, refusing to put your heart out there. I’m telling you I’m a safe bet.”
“You can’t promise—”
“Don’t try to tell me what I can or can’t promise. I know what I’m capable of. I’m not scared of exposing my heart to you, Mercy, but I know you are terrified of doing the same.”
She was silent.
“But that’s okay. I get it. I know being abandoned by your family ripped a deep hole inside of you and you’ve got high walls built up around your heart to protect it. But you need to understand that it’s not a sign of weakness to allow yourself to be loved.”
“I can’t do that,” she whispered.
“Not yet,” he agreed. “Eventually you’ll learn it’s a sign of strength. You’ll learn it’s one of the hardest gambles in the world, but damn . . . when it’s right, the payoff is out of this world.” He touched her cheek, worried he’d pushed too hard, but she hadn’t run away. Yet.
She was so stubborn and independent.
But he wouldn’t have fallen for her if she were any other way.