by Leigh Tudor
“No idea,” Alec said.
And then she looked straight ahead, eyes wide, as if realization dawned.
Her chest rose from a chuckle. “I know exactly why she did it.”
She turned to Alec with a shake of her head. “She did it to protect you, you worthless dung-head.”
Mercy strode past Trevor, who held the door to the diner open for her.
She knew his type and instantly disliked him. He preferred a life centered around danger and espionage. Pretending to be one thing and turning out to be another.
Basically, being whomever it would take to get the job done.
Never honest and forthright.
Certainly never living a normal life.
She was so sick of men like that.
Heck, she was sick of living a life like that.
Despite Loren’s efforts to protect Mercy from the alpha male, Bond-type, a-holes they were subjected to during their misdeeds, a couple had gotten through the cracks.
And oh, how her heart had suffered for it.
Now, she could spot the type a mile away.
Trevor Forrest, although supposedly working on the right side of the law, was no more than a heartless player all wrapped up in a pretty package. And her razor-sharp instincts told her he failed to make her top-ten list of must-haves for the future Mr. Mercy Ingalls.
Number one must-have—a boring job.
And his job was anything but.
Rather it was fraught with danger, lies, and subterfuge.
A job that certainly came before family.
Trevor Forrest and his taut physique, stoic persona, and irritating glower were on the very bottom of her list if he made the list at all.
She dreamed of a relationship with a man who went to work and came home in time for dinner.
A life with someone who cared more about the sensitivity of others than the sensitivity of night vision optics, allowing for nighttime targeting of vulnerable females from long distances.
The bells jingled as the door slowly closed shut behind him.
“I’m not a debutante. I don’t need you to open doors for me.”
He languidly slid on a pair of high-end sunglasses; a well-known brand worn by former military types. “Trust me, you’re the last woman I would ever mistake for a polished society girl.”
Mercy spun on the heel of her boot and glared at him.
“I don’t know who you are, but you’re ridiculously tall, bad-mannered, and on my last nerve.”
There.
That should put him in his place.
The man just stared down at her, unmoved.
He handed her the quilted camo jacket she’d left in the booth, and she whipped it out of his hand as it was an unusually chilly evening in New Mexico.
“Let me make myself clear. This,” she said, pointing two fingers back and forth between them, “is not some meet-cute in a rom-com movie.”
“What’s a meet—?”
She cut him off. “You are not the least bit appealing to me, so you might as well get that out of your super-secret-spy thick skull of yours.”
“I don’t recall . . .”
“Don’t try to deny it,” she said, punching her arms into the sleeves of the jacket that were a bit tight.
Alec strode toward them. “Please tell me you drove as opposed to, say, parachuting out of a plane at thirty thousand feet.”
Mercy continued to glare at her newfound adversary.
She lifted her arm and pointed to her right. “Range Rover.”
“Perfect,” Alec returned, clapping and then rubbing his hands together. “How’d you get Vlad to let you borrow his new ride?”
And just like that, all of the righteous indignation deflated from her body. Her hand went to her chest, constricted with sadness, and her stiff shoulders lost their fight as she turned toward Alec.
“Vlad,” she said, pinning a confused Alec with watery eyes.
“What? Don’t tell me you forgot to tell him you were borrowing his Rover.”
She barely shook her head. “They killed him.”
Alec’s hands went to his hips, his eyes blinking. “Who?”
She pointed toward the new guy who she had yet to vet. “I’m not telling you another thing until you explain this to me.”
Loren taught her not to trust anyone. Least of all, the tall, dark, and handsome men working in covert, dangerous jobs, clearly infatuated with her.
“Trevor’s been working on infiltrating the Halstead Research Facility for some time.”
“Trying to get inside the lab, huh?” She chuckled at the man who shadowed the full moon behind him. “How’s that working for ya? The lab’s got tighter security than an ISIS kingpin’s lair.”
Before he answered her, Alec continued. “The FBI wasn’t sure Loren was a willing accomplice, or me for that matter.”
“Please,” she said to Trevor with disdain. “Alec’s so clean he squeaks. A first-year rookie could see that.”
Alec added, “Then there were documents stating she’s mentally imbalanced.”
Her eyes widened theatrically, still focused on the newcomer. “Oh, did you get your hands on mine?” She pointed at herself. “Antisocial Personality Disorder: characterized by a long-term pattern of disregard for and violation of the rights of others.”
She smiled coyly. “All fabricated by dear old stepdad.” She shrugged one shoulder and winked. “Mostly.”
“Mercy,” Alec said with impatience.
Mercy crossed her arms, resolute. “Still not enough information.”
“Jesus H. Christ,” Alec groaned. “We don’t have time for this.”
“Then cough up what you’re not telling me, and I’ll thank you to leave the Lord’s name out of it.”
If she was to suffer the wrath of her sister, she would have a good reason for it. Not to mention that now was not the time to be saying the Lord’s name in vain. They needed all the help they could get, and in her estimation, they needed the big guy in the sky working on their behalf and not against them.
Alec took in a deep breath. “Okay, this is everything in a nutshell. Trevor and I work for M2M, a private security company contracted by the FBI to infiltrate the lab and take down a number of criminal elements. Trevor has been in contact with Jasper, working to convince him to hire a mock organization for jobs requiring security, arms, and discretion. Jasper tasked Trevor with securing Loren and bringing her back to Utah. That’s how I got involved. They knew I was former military looking for a job and in a relationship with Loren. They hired me, but I knew nothing about this mission until early this morning. Suffice it to say, Trevor’s one of the good guys. Now, who the fuck killed Vlad?”
Arms still crossed, she poked at a large rock with the toe of her boot. “Jasper,” she said with a tight chest. “Or at least he called in the hit.”
“Why would Jasper have Vlad killed?”
Mercy weighed her options.
And found herself in quite the conundrum.
Alec, the ultimate betrayer of her sister, was asking her to divulge information that Loren would kill her for sharing. Well, maybe not kill her, but at the very least, yank out every strand of hair from her head.
Loren was maniacally insistent that she be in control of any and all information related to the lab. She said it was the only way to ensure their safety. So telling Alec and his partner what they needed to know was in direct violation of her trust.
But time was running short, and decisions had to be made. The chances of catching up to Jasper and his minions were slipping away by the minute.
She walked up to Alec with her hands on her hips, remembering the last time she saw her sister before being drugged and hauled away.
“Why should I tell you anything?” she asked. “I saw you take Loren away, trussed up in that straitjacket and devoid of every last shred of hope.” She shook her head. “How could you?”
She watched as he looked away, and his jaw tightened. “I thoug
ht I had a better chance of protecting her if I stayed close to her, so I played along. But . . .” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t deny being blindsided by a shit ton of information that didn’t sit right but was somewhat believable.”
She sneered, knowing all too well the information Jasper could make seem believable.
“Look at me, Mercy,” Alec said, capturing her attention and looking her straight in the eye. “I care for your sister. I swear to you that I’ll do whatever it takes to get her back.”
She wavered. He seemed so sincere.
And he admitted to caring for Loren.
“See that?” she said to Trevor, waving toward Alec. “That’s true love. We don’t have that. What we have is momentary lust under extreme conditions. Two people thrust together during a time of crisis that couldn’t be less suited for one another.”
Trevor stared back at her. His brow was lined with confusion, or maybe it was intense desire. She couldn’t tell which.
Alec repeated, “Mercy, why would Jasper kill Vlad?”
She took a deep breath and turned toward Alec, picking at a chip in her black fingernail polish. She prayed she wasn’t making a mistake.
“Vlad was one of the doctors assigned to me at the lab. He found holes in the documentation concerning my mental disorder. He learned quickly that the best way to stay alive and protect me was to keep his mouth shut. On top of that, when I’d paint, I’d get migraines. Sometimes, they’d last for days. He was the one who gave me the injections to make them go away or, at the very least, mitigate the pain.”
Trevor spoke up. “Halstead needed you feeling your best in order for you to paint.”
Mercy’s head shot up. “You know about that?”
He nodded once.
She watched him intently. Loren worked very hard to keep Mercy’s role in their missions on the down low. No one knew what part she played in their various schemes.
Except maybe this guy.
She divulged more information. “After being in Wilder for a while, I broke down and contacted Vlad. I was painting, and the migraines were unbearable.” She chuckled. “Loren was so mad when he showed up. I’m talking furniture-throwing mad.”
“That was the morning I walked in on Loren and Vlad in the kitchen, and it looked like all hell had broken loose.”
Mercy nodded, her chest aching for her friend. “Apparently, Jasper convinced him that if I didn’t return and have surgery, the results would be fatal. I don’t know much more than that. A long-range sniper shot Vlad in the temple while he was telling me he had been betrayed and that Jasper was coming for Loren.”
“When?” Alec asked, clearly affected.
“Had to have been near the same time Jasper came to collect Loren at Wilder’s. It seemed to have been well orchestrated.” She sniffed. “I mean, considering it was Jasper.”
Alec and Trevor glanced at one another as if in unspoken agreement.
Alec reached into his back pocket for his wallet, sorting through a wad of cash, and shoved a number of bills toward her. “This should be enough to get you back to Wilder.”
“I’m not going back to Wilder. I’m going to effing Utah.”
Alec spoke up, looking over her head to Trevor. “She can’t go with us. Too high risk.”
Trevor gave another one of his unnerving single nods. She wondered what it would take to get the man to break-dance. Maybe a 9mm aimed at his size thirteen work boots.
Trevor said, “Agreed, but she has information that would shore up a lot of holes. We could gather intel from her on the way.”
“Hey, I’m right here,” she said, snapping her fingers to capture their attention. “And just so you know, I have no intention of driving all the way to Utah for the sole purpose of coughing up information.”
Trevor ignored her. “Past that, she’s just a liability.”
“Oh, I’m a liability?” she said, eyes wide, tapping the tips of her fingers on her chest. “You’re stuck in the middle of some godforsaken ghost town with no transportation. But I’m the liability?”
At that moment, Trevor’s phone rang. He continued to stare back at her as he placed it to his ear and finally turned away.
She spun back toward Alec. “You need me. You know you do.”
“I need you to be safe.”
“I think you’ve learned enough about myself and my sister to know that we are more than capable of taking care of ourselves.”
Alec opened the driver’s door to the Rover. “This is an operation between M2M and the feds. We don’t have time to convince the people in charge that you’re some badass ninja with . . . super . . . girl-power moves.”
“Oh my God, could you be more of a misogynistic a-hole?”
Trevor interrupted them with a clearing of his throat and what looked to be a hint of anguish.
Mercy turned as he tucked his phone in his front pocket.
“It’s over. We’ve been called off the case.”
“What, why?” Mercy asked.
“Fuck!” Alec shouted. He lowered his head in frustration and something like pain. One hand held the hood while the other grasped the top of the doorframe.
Mercy was still confused as she stared at Alec, who straightened and stared off into the distance, his jaw flexing.
Trevor continued, “We’ve been ordered to stand down and wait for further instructions.”
His eyes closed and then reopened as if trying to gather himself. For the first time since meeting him, Mercy read his demeanor as something other than stoic and intractable.
He crossed his arms over his chest in a wide stance as he breathed in and then out.
“I don’t understand. You got pulled off because you lost your ride?”
Trevor replied, “We got pulled off because we failed the mission. Your sister was our only way to get inside. Our first chance to get inside since starting this investigation two and a half years ago.”
Mercy read the self-reproach in his voice.
“This is my fault,” Trevor said to no one in particular. “Had I talked to her and asked her to help us rather than waiting . . .”
“Are you guys actually going to bail?” Mercy asked, her voice escalating. “Argh! You spineless mothertruckers.”
Trevor had his hands on his head, staring at the sky. “We have no choice.”
“Seriously? You don’t think you have a choice? Well, guess what? I happen to not be beholden to some mediocre private security company specializing in mall cops or a government agency who plays according to the rules when it serves their purpose.
“I answer to my conscience. And it’s telling me to get in the Rover, drive to Findling, Utah, and save my sister. So, for all I care, you guys can sit here with your thumbs up your bumholes, with your pathetic sense of misguided obligation, and wait for a freakin’ Uber.”
Dang it.
She was back to square one.
Her original plan.
Rolling solo.
She hesitated.
As much as she hated to admit it, having someone on the outside as backup would help her once inside.
But could she trust them?
Should she?
Loren always warned her not to trust anyone. She said people did things that only served their own self-interest, and no one cared about them or their safety.
Mercy chuckled. “I’m waiting for you two to get a clue. But it doesn’t appear that you were blessed with any discernible level of mental acumen. As a matter of fact, as far as I can tell, you’re bordering on moron status.”
Trevor hesitated, staring at her. Alec did the same.
“Oh, for the love of all that’s holy,” she said, eyes to the sky. “I’m the answer to all your problems. Do you not get that?”
Trevor finally looked at her as if an inadvertent lifeline. “How?”
“I can get you inside the Center.”
Trevor and Alec looked at one another, their expressions showing small inclinations of hope
with a side of skepticism.
Alec shrugged his shoulders. “The only thing I have to lose is my job. What I have to gain is Loren, which is everything. So if you want to back out, that’s up to you.” He jumped in the driver’s seat and pushed the down button on the window. “Mercy, get in. We’re wasting time.”
Mercy skirted toward the passenger side with unrestrained enthusiasm as Trevor walked up to where Alec’s elbow rested on the open door window.
Alec pushed the button to start the engine. “So I guess the question is, how badly do you want inside? And what are you willing to risk?”
Trevor opened the door behind Alec and slid into the back seat. He shut the door and responded. “More than you’ll ever know.”
Chapter Three
“Any intelligent fool can make things bigger, more complex, and more violent. It takes a touch of genius — and a lot of courage to move in the opposite direction.”
― E.F. Schumacher
Loren walked into the main entrance of the lab with an air of authority. Very different circumstances from when she and her sisters left the compound.
Or, escaped, as it were.
She had advised Mercy that knowledge was the most powerful lever when working with bad people. And the knowledge that Jasper desperately needed her to fix a job gone awry earned her substantial dividends.
The truth of the matter was that, at the time, she wasn’t a hundred percent sure he was in a desperate situation. But as she came to, handcuffed to the gurney and gathering her motor skills, she took a moment to yank herself out of her self-imposed despair to reflect on her current circumstances.
When Jasper cornered her earlier that morning, he seemed different. Off. A bit more nervous than usual and hyperaware of his surroundings. His beady eyes manically surveyed his surroundings.
But then, she wondered, why make his move now?
If she were honest, she knew that she had become lackadaisical in protecting their cover.
When Vlad first showed up on their doorstep, that alone should have been the catalyst for grabbing their go bags, finding a new home, and creating new identities.
By the time Madame Garmond showed up, their lives had become so settled and idyllic, the thought of uprooting and leaving the people of Wilder was nothing short of painful.