Chapter 8
In fact Mercy wasn’t naive at all. “I’m not making too big a deal out of it. And I did go through my sister’s belongings as I packed them up for you. But I didn’t find anything personal. However, I did find a notebook.” She turned to Michael. “Did you bring it?”
He pulled it from his back pocket and handed it to the detective.
“It was my sister’s. I found it behind the medicine cabinet in my room.”
He glanced at her. “What’s in it?”
“She talks about a new boyfriend but doesn’t mention much about the people she worked with. She doesn’t leave any names. She was a little bit suspicious and afraid she was being watched.” Mercy took a deep breath, knowing the next bit would surprise him. “She saw crates of guns being unloaded.”
Flipping through the pages, the detective whistled. “That’s huge.”
“I can’t believe they’d do anything so stupid as to kill a second maid so quickly,” she protested.
“Who said they’d kill you?” Michael argued. “Even if they did, what if they made you disappear? What if they told the detective here how you found the job too hard and ran off in tears?”
The detective added, “That’s not unusual. You disappear into the streets, and nobody would know anything about you.”
She shook her head. “This isn’t medieval times. There has to be some way to get the information we need.”
“How’s the security on the place?”
“It would be a hell of a lot better if Michael would stop sabotaging the lines,” she said with spirit.
Michael stared at her, his eyes dark, flat. “It was necessary,” he said.
“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” she said with a smile. “But don’t tell me how I don’t notice things.”
“If you do return …” the detective said, holding up the notebook, “given that you found this already, what else do you think you’d find?”
“I have no idea,” she said. “But I won’t know unless I look again.”
The detective shook his head. “Think about it. These men have killed twice. Nothing will stop them from killing a third time. If you become too nosy, too suspicious, or too anything else, they’d make sure you’re not around to prove the first two murders.”
“And yet, it’d be suspicious to have another person disappear from the estate.”
“Only if they weren’t the ones who made you disappear.” Michael’s voice was hard as he added, “They are planning something.”
The detective’s tone sharpened. “What and when?”
Michael gave a half smile. “You’ll know when I find out. So far lots of meetings are behind closed doors with lots of people coming and going, plus activity in the lower levels.”
“Lower levels?” Mercy repeated. “I know about the wine cellar, but that’s all.” Yet the place was huge, so it was possible.
He nodded. “Two full floors are below the main floor. One is set up as a big meeting room with a separate entrance and exit I haven’t found yet. The other floor is for a big wine cellar and storage room and some warehouse space.”
“Any idea what’s stored there?”
Michael sent a sideways glance at the cop. “I suspected drugs but, after seeing the notebook, likely guns or both. Yet there is an air of something happening, but I have no idea what’s going on. If we’re lucky, it’ll be a new shipment coming in.”
“Can you get down there to see?”
“Maybe. Depends what comes. They might need extra muscles. I don’t know that I can get pictures though.”
Mercy stepped back and listened as the two men discussed it. “I might be able to clean down there,” she said suddenly.
Both men looked at her and frowned.
She rushed into saying, “I’ve been sent to the cellar to get some wine. Just once though.”
“Did you see what else was down there?” the detective asked.
She shook her head. “It’s very dim, and it’s huge.”
“Is it big enough to store guns?” the detective asked. “Although he’d be foolish to keep everything on-site.”
“If he didn’t keep it on-site, it’s hard to watch over it,” Michael reminded him.
Mercy glanced at her watch. “We have to get my car and return to the estate. If anything happens, or if I feel any uneasiness, I’ll walk straight out. I’ll grab my stuff and go to my car. The gates will be open until 10:00 p.m. tonight. I can leave at any time. But, if that meeting is happening, you’ll need me to get photos of people coming and going.”
Michael shook his head. “Not photos. If I’m chauffeuring, I can set up a camera in the car. We’ll take photos of everyone getting in and out of my vehicle.”
She brightened. “That’s ingenious.”
He snorted. “It’s what I do.”
She gave him a beaming smile. “Good. I’m glad to hear that.”
In truth, she didn’t know what to think about him. That he took her to the police station and was trying to convince her not to return said a lot about how caring he was. It was good to know Michael was with her there. That he knew who she was and why she was there. Although she was in danger, having him close made her feel more secure. Maybe that wasn’t a good thing. She certainly didn’t want to get into any issues, like her sister had, but Mercy was already involved.
People who remembered her sister would say the way she died was to be expected. But her sister hadn’t been all bad. It was easy to judge people. Sometimes people lost track of who someone was on the inside.
Unfortunately Sammy and her sister were gone. All Mercy could do was surmise what might happen at this point and consider who on the estate was likely involved. She hated to say it, but she needed the police to find out what was going on. In whatever way that would be. While staying and working at the estate made her unhappy, she wasn’t quite ready to give up her post. She had this sense that she could do more, even though she’d tried everything she knew. Maybe she could talk to more people, like the nice kitchen assistant. But she didn’t know what his schedule was. “I have to get back. I don’t dare be late for work.”
She watched as the two men exchanged glances; then the detective gave a hard nod.
“You can return, but you have stay in touch. Just send me a simple text check in at 9pm tonight and again in the morning.” He glared at her and added, “And before you say something stupid, remember what happened to your sister.” He pulled out two business cards.
She winced. “That’s hardly fair.”
“There’s nothing fair about any of this,” Michael retorted. He took the cards the detective offered, giving one to Mercy. “Send him a text and also one to me.” Before they left the detective’s office, he grabbed a pen off the desk and quickly wrote down his name and phone number on a card and handed it back to the detective. “She already has my cell phone number,” he said by way of explanation. The detective stood. “I can’t force you to stay away,” he said, turning back toward her, “but everything inside of me says you shouldn’t return.”
She nodded. “Today I’ll go. Then I’ll see.”
Back in the truck, she glanced at Michael’s expression. “I’ll be careful, you know? I don’t have a death wish.”
He snorted. “Apparently you do. You’re going back.”
“Maybe I can find something useful,” she argued.
“Yeah, like what?”
She was at a loss for an answer. She hated to feel useless. “Talk to somebody to find out any information.”
“And maybe you won’t find out anything.”
“I found the notebook. I’ll stay today, maybe overnight, and then I’ll get out.”
As they pulled into the parking lot beside her car, before she could get out, he grabbed her hand so she couldn’t escape. “Promise?”
She sighed. “If you’re sure I’m in that much trouble, I promise.”
He nodded. “I’ll hold you to it. That means you will be coming out tomorrow morning at the latest. I’d rather have you leave tonight.”
“Why do you think they’re making sure I’m in my room?” she asked.
He peered out the windshield. “Logic suggests they don’t want you to see or hear something they’re doing.”
“But the doors are not locked from the outside. There’s nothing to stop me from leaving or going out to look around to see what they’re doing.”
He studied her face for a moment. “Unless they have cameras or alarms at your bedroom door. I thought your room might be bugged too.” He studied her face for a long moment. “How do you sleep there?”
“I’m exhausted, so I sleep like a log,” she admitted.
He nodded as if he expected that answer.
“To be expected. You work hard. Too hard.” He settled back. “Good. Be careful. I don’t want you falling sick.”
*
He waited until she got into her car, his mind worrying, fussing. What he had said was true. Sammy might’ve been a lot of things, but he’d have been very aware of any surrounding dangers. His instincts were second to none. Sure, Michael didn’t know what had ended Sammy’s life, but Michael would know soon enough. He’d find out.
He always kept his blinds closed, his lights off behind the curtains. Last night he’d sat up with his binoculars to see what was going on outside. And definitely something was going on. Two vehicles had been let in at midnight of the previous night, like he had told the detective earlier. They were still inside the triple garage at the house. A garage he suspected he wouldn’t be allowed anywhere close to. That was okay. Because as long as he wasn’t allowed someplace, that was where he wanted to be, and he’d get in on his own time.
But he had to make sure Mercy would be safe too. He understood her loyalty. He understood her need for answers. But he wanted her to get the hell away. He had her promise of only one more night. Now, maybe, if he was lucky, he’d get her out of here before nightfall. Then he could go walking about the estate, checking out a few things.
He drove back to the estate, making sure he was a car or two behind her. She drove between the gates and parked in her usual spot. He knew they’d already been noticed. He parked in his spot, hopped out and walked up to his apartment. Nothing had been disturbed. That went with his theory it was either bugged or they had a camera he hadn’t found, which pissed him off. He’d checked the place out thoroughly when he had first arrived; now he fully intended to give the place a clean sweep again.
When done, he checked his watch. It was time to go. Good or bad, his day as a chauffeur and gardener had started. He grabbed an apple from his fridge with a chunk of cheese, opened the door and headed downstairs. As soon as he exited, Bruce, the head of security and his boss, stood beside him.
Michael glanced at him and asked, “What can I do for you?”
“I’d like to know where you and the maid were this morning,” Bruce said in a hard voice.
Michael gave a casual shrug. “We ran into each other at a coffee shop last night. She hadn’t been feeling well, and it was late, so she hitched a ride with me. I drove her to get her car this morning.”
Bruce rolled his eyes and nodded. “Work in the yard today. Stay away from the garages and stick to the house, please. We’ll have a lot of security as we fix the lines.”
Michael nodded. “Sure, no problem.” He took a big bite of his apple and headed to the garden. Just what he had expected. All kinds of stuff going on. Now he had to figure out what it was.