“Antonio Ricci,” Mercy stated, pleased at the way Salome’s eyes widened. “That’s not possible. He’s currently sitting in prison.”
“I assumed he’d gotten out, and I immediately took Morrigan into hiding. I went to Christian, and he let me stay in one of the cabins on his property. I believed it was my father until yesterday when Gabriel shot at us.”
“What?” Shock locked Mercy’s muscles. Gabriel?
Christian nodded, his eyes despondent. “You didn’t hear what happened at my place yesterday?”
“No.” Mercy felt the interview slip out of her grasp again. “There’s no cell service or Internet here.”
He shared a story about the murder of Brent Rollins and Salome’s narrow escape.
Mercy couldn’t speak for a full ten seconds as her mind tried to process the violence. Brent had been killed while helping Salome and Morrigan? And Morrigan witnessed that? Most children would have been curled up in a ball, refusing to speak or move.
Mercy felt like doing that now.
“Why? Why would Gabriel try to kill you?” she asked Salome as Mercy tried to stay focused.
“I don’t know.”
She’s holding back.
“We won’t get anywhere if the two of you don’t tell me everything.” Mercy glared from Salome to Christian.
“She refused to go to the police, worried her father might still have some influence on the inside,” Christian said. “I’ve tried to get her to tell them for two days. Last night I convinced her that you would be safe to talk to.”
“Then talk.”
Salome solemnly met her gaze. “I think Christian knows more—”
An explosion shook the little cabin. For a split second the three of them stared at one another in shock. What happened? Mercy glanced up, thankful to see that her roof was still intact, and then dropped below the table, her ears ringing. Salome flew out of her chair, lunging for the door. “Morrigan!”
Christian tackled her, slamming her to the wood floor. She fought, kicking and slapping him. “Let me go!” she shrieked.
“You don’t know what’s out there!” he yelled in her ear.
Mercy scrambled out from under the table, grabbed her pistol and rifle, and darted to the side of a small reinforced window at the front of the house, risking a glance. The Hummer was in flames.
Her heart stopped. Kaylie?
A dozen yards beyond the Hummer, she spotted the grille of another vehicle on her lane. The rest of it was tucked out of sight around a curve.
Company.
Truman halted the ATV in the middle of the road and stared. A black cloud had rocketed up into the sky above the forest after the explosion. Sweat trickled down Truman’s back at the sight. That’s the direction of Mercy’s cabin.
I’m still miles away.
What if she’s hurt?
Or worse?
He’d found the ATV in the barn. It was child-size and didn’t move nearly as fast as it should because of his weight and the depth of the snow. At least it was something. He’d decided to walk the seven miles or so to Mercy’s cabin, but then he’d spotted the ATV.
Nausea swirled in his gut as he stared at the smoke. Whoever shot at me went to Mercy’s.
He checked his phone for the tenth time, and his heart leaped at the one bar of coverage. He requested police backup and an ambulance. Just in case. He tried Mercy’s cell phone and it went straight to voice mail. Her cheery voice asking him to leave a message made him want to yell into the phone and order her to answer and tell him she was okay.
Instead he hung up and wiped the moisture off his upper lip.
Keep going.
Truman increased his thumb’s pressure on the throttle.
THIRTY-SIX
Mercy burst into action.
She lowered all the shades and flipped open her laptop, then pulled up outside views of the property. Christian kept Salome pinned to the floor. She screeched and kicked at him, a mother desperate to get to her daughter. His terrified gaze met Mercy’s.
“Shut her up,” Mercy hissed.
She whipped the two-way radio out of her pocket. “Kaylie? Are you okay? Is Morrigan with you?”
Mercy waited.
The cabin went silent as Salome cut off her screams, her gaze locked on the small radio in Mercy’s hand. “Kaylie?” Mercy asked again.
“Morrigan and I are okay,” Kaylie’s voice whispered through the speaker.
Salome went limp under Christian’s hands and quietly sobbed.
Relief made Mercy want to do the same. She scanned the four views on her laptop. “Where are you?” she asked Kaylie. The Hummer smoked and burned. How? Blowing up a vehicle wasn’t easy; it took planning.
Her heart stopped as she spotted a man with a pistol in his hand opening the barn door. He paused and looked back at the house over his shoulder. Mercy leaned closer to the screen, her throat closing off as she recognized his face. No. The man vanished inside where her niece had taken Morrigan.
“Shhh, Aunt Mercy.” Kaylie could barely be heard. “Don’t talk.”
Mercy’s hands iced and she nearly dropped the radio. Kaylie must have heard the man enter the barn. My voice could give away their location.
Please remember the cabinet. Vomit surged up her throat, and she clamped her teeth together.
How can I get her and Morrigan out of there? She couldn’t rush the barn with an armed man and possible hostages inside.
She glanced back at Christian, who sat on the floor next to the crumpled woman, his chest heaving, his head between his knees and his hands squeezing his skull.
“It was your brother,” Mercy stated. “Your brother blew up the Hummer.”
His head shot up, his eyes wide. “He’s here?”
“And now he’s in the barn with Morrigan and Kaylie.”
“What?” Salome started to rise.
“I think they’re hiding. There’s a secret room in the barn.”
Salome inched away from Christian, anger on her face. “I’ve let you carry your secret, knowing you would tell me when it was time,” she said. “It’s time.”
At the sound of the explosion, Kaylie had shakily stepped to the barn door and peeked through a crack. The black vehicle was on fire, but the house looked okay. She touched the radio in her pocket. Mercy had drilled her to hide first. Ask questions later.
Preparation.
Fighting the urge to run to the house, she guided Morrigan behind the false back of one the barn’s storage cabinets and closed them in. Morrigan had dashed for the barn doors at the roar of the blast, but Kaylie had blocked her. She’d talked fast, calming the girl and begging her to be silent. Their hiding spot appeared to be just another cabinet in a long row, but the shelving swung out, exposing a space big enough for two adults to hide. They squeezed in and found water, food, and a flashlight tucked in a corner. Kaylie flicked on the flashlight and sent a mental thank-you to her aunt for her paranoia.
“But my mother,” Morrigan pleaded.
Kaylie showed her the radio. “My aunt will contact us.”
“Call her!” Tears flooded Morrigan’s cheeks.
“Shhh. No, the rule is that she reaches out to me first.”
Seconds later Mercy did just that, and Morrigan calmed down.
The distinctive creak of the barn door sounded and Kaylie clamped a hand over Morrigan’s mouth, her gaze ordering the younger girl to be quiet. “Shh, Aunt Mercy. Don’t talk,” she whispered through the radio. Morrigan’s eyes flared wider, but she was silent, and Kaylie slowly pulled away her hand.
“I’m going to turn off the flashlight,” she told Morrigan, her words nearly soundless.
The girl took Kaylie’s hand, gripping tightly, and nodded.
Kaylie turned out the light, the image of Morrigan’s terrified face burned into her retinas.
She slid her hand up the back of the hidden door in the absolute dark, feeling for the inner latches. She silently locked the three of them, the
ir clicks inaudible, though they vibrated under her shaking fingertips. Morrigan’s panicked breathing filled the small space. Kaylie leaned closer to the girl. “Breathe with me,” she whispered, taking the child’s other hand. Together they took long, slow breaths.
Slams and scuffles sounded inside the barn. Kaylie imagined the intruder kicking the PVC of her washing machine and opening the cabinets. Glass shattered on concrete. Morrigan jumped, losing the rhythm of their breaths.
Kaylie squeezed the girl’s hands in the pattern of the breathing, and Morrigan struggled to settle into the rhythm again.
The fruit and vegetables we canned are the only glass items in the barn.
Asshole.
The rustling search of the cabinets came closer. Quivers shot through Morrigan and up Kaylie’s arms. Kaylie massaged the child’s hands, trying to send silent reassurance.
The sound of ripping fabric filled the barn. Rip after rip. She pictured the sheets and towels Mercy had stored with the medical supplies, intended for use as bandages or tourniquets.
He’s destroying everything we have.
The childlike destruction shocked her. Why? Who does that?
A faint but short metallic screwing sound reached her ears. Over and over. Each noise was followed by a phsst sound and then a gloppy splashing that Kaylie couldn’t identify.
The man muttered as he moved to a closer cabinet and continued his destruction, his voice getting louder.
“Aha!” The rustling stopped, and Kaylie heard two long scrapes, as if something heavy was being dragged off the shelves.
Her mind scrambled to decipher the noise.
The fuel cans.
Mercy stored gasoline, diesel, and kerosene. Red, yellow, and blue. Color indicators Kaylie had memorized as a child. In January she’d helped Mercy replace her stash of all three fuels. The scraping sounds had come from the direction in which the gasoline was stored. The red plastic containers shone clear in her mind’s eye.
Will he set the barn on fire?
She let go of one of Morrigan’s hands and slid open two of the locks, her fingers hovering over the third, ready to dash out at the first sound or smell of fire. She pressed her ear against the crack of the hidden door and strained to hear. His footsteps grew quieter and she heard the distinctive creak of the barn door. The barn had a smaller door at its rear, but Mercy had fastened it from the inside with a chain and heavy padlock.
Footsteps returned. Kaylie leaned back from the door and held her breath. Two more scraping sounds. Retreating steps.
More gasoline.
Her heart tried to pound its way out of her chest, and she wondered if Morrigan heard it.
“What’s he doing?” the girl whispered.
“I don’t know,” Kaylie lied. They couldn’t leave the cabinet now; he was making multiple trips.
Kaylie leaned against the door, her ear at the crack again, and waited for the moment his footsteps didn’t return.
Furious, Mercy whirled on Salome after her accusation at Christian about secrets. The woman was creating drama while Mercy’s priority was to get the two girls to the safety of the house. Her mind spun with possibilities. Kaylie told me to be quiet, so that means she heard the man. Surely the teen would go immediately to the cabinet; they’d drilled repeatedly for handling an invasion of the property. The hidden room was weak compared to the security of the cabin, but at least it was something.
She thanked the sense of caution that had driven her to build the false back in the cabinet.
“What do you mean he’s keeping secrets?” Mercy challenged Salome. She glanced at the screen. The man still hadn’t come out of the barn. I’ve got to get in there.
“He knows why Gabriel would try to kill me.”
Shocked, Mercy locked gazes with her old friend, seeing truth in his eyes. Her heart sank. “Christian?” she whispered.
“I never dreamed he’d kill your mother . . . or my father.” He lowered his head again, his hands pressing on his ears as if he could keep out the horrors.
“What happened?” Mercy took a step in his direction, wanting to yank on his hair, shake him, kick him. Anything.
His head shot up, and he raised his arms defensively in her direction.
Mercy halted, realizing she’d lifted her pistol. She immediately lowered it to her side.
“A long time ago, my father told me he’d had a child with another woman.”
Salome’s breath hitched.
“I was young, but it made sense. When I found out, he and my mother had been divorced for about ten years, but the fights they’d had all my life were still fresh in my mind. My mother’s screams . . . her words . . . her accusations.” He glanced at Salome, and the dark woman stared back at him, her gaze locked on his face; she was expressionless, but her nostrils flared as if she scented something foul.
Christian couldn’t look at her for more than a split second.
Salome is that child. Understanding swept over Mercy. She’s his half sister.
“My mother ran a nonstop vocal campaign of hate against my father. Gabriel was fed this poison along with his meals. I was too, but my mind didn’t work like Gabriel’s. His soaked it in like a sponge. I let her hostility roll off my shoulders. Even as a kid, I knew hate wasn’t something to harbor in my soul. But she often raged about the ‘whore in the woods’ who had corrupted our father and destroyed their marriage.”
A single tear ran down Salome’s cheek.
Mercy caught her breath at the shock on Salome’s face.
“I didn’t know this,” Salome whispered.
“I know,” said Christian. “My father was drunk when he told me. I don’t think he remembered that he told me, because he never mentioned it again.”
“He was always so kind to me. When did he tell you?” she asked.
“It was just after high school. I’ve kept it to myself all this time.”
“Did Gabriel know who I was back then?”
Christian shook his head. “I’m almost positive he didn’t.” His voice lowered. “Gabriel didn’t drug you to punish you for who you were; he drugged you because he was an asshole. He did it to several girls that year.”
“Did you know who I was the night you fought him off me?”
“No.” Christian was emphatic. “My father told me later.”
“What are you talking about?” Mercy finally asked. The two of them were talking as if no one else existed in the room. Memories and shit were pleasant, but there was a very angry man outside and two girls who needed help.
Christian opened his mouth, but Mercy cut him off with a hand gesture. “Never mind. There’s no time for some story. We need to focus on the girls.” She looked around the cabin. “This is the safest place on the property. The barn isn’t as fortified, but the hidden room will do its job.”
She met Christian’s gaze. “What is your brother going to do?”
He was silent. Bile rose in Mercy’s throat at the devastated look on his face.
“Why?” Salome begged. “Why does he hate me that much?”
Guilt filled Christian’s face. “I’m guessing, but my father told my mother he was changing his will. He enjoyed letting her know that I still had no part in it, but he also told her that Gabriel had destroyed his last chance. I gathered that Gabriel had borrowed money one too many times without paying it back.” He swallowed. “My mother was irate about him cutting Gabriel off . . . more than I expected her to be.” He looked to Salome. “If he’s not leaving money to us, I suspect that means he’s leaving it to you. He probably told her that, and she told Gabriel.” Curiosity crossed his face. “You visited him for years and he never told you he was your father?”
“No! He never said a word!” Salome looked ready to vomit. “Gabriel killed them over money? And he’s after Morrigan and me for the same reason?”
“Figure it out later,” Mercy stated. “Christian, I know you can shoot. What about you, Salome?”
Salome shook her head.
Mercy checked the views on her laptop. No sight of Gabriel. Then she strode to the tall gun safe in the corner, spun the dial, and removed a rifle for Christian. She slipped on a holster, seated her pistol, and shoved ammo in her many pockets. From under the seat of a bench, she pulled out three bulletproof vests. Originally there’d been one. She’d added two more for Kaylie and Truman months earlier. Christian checked the rifle as Mercy slipped a knife onto her belt and held another out to Salome. “I bet you know how to use this.”
“I do.” Salome took the weapon with ease and examined the balance.
“Were those your knives in your mother’s house?” Mercy asked. Salome handled the knife as if she’d been born with one in her hand.
“Yes, my mother started the collection, but I’ve increased it over the years.” Bitter but hopeful eyes turned toward Mercy. “Can you get my daughter?”
Their gazes held.
“Absolutely. My daughter is out there too.” Uncertainty and fear wove through Mercy.
But the confidence in Salome’s eyes sent a calming energy up her spine, obliterating the fear.
Nothing will happen to them. Not while I’m still breathing.
“Aunt Mercy?”
She nearly missed Kaylie’s soft voice through the radio. Mercy lifted it close to her mouth. “Yes?” she whispered.
“There’s a man. I think he took the fuel cans out of the barn.”
Mercy whirled back to the laptop again, searching the screen. “I can’t see him.” She pointed at Christian and Salome and gestured upstairs to her small loft. “Try to see him from the windows.”
“What is he doing with them?” Kaylie asked softly. “Morrigan and I are in the cabinet.”
Kaylie wouldn’t ask Mercy while Morrigan was listening if the barn was being set on fire.
“I can’t see him right now. I’ll figure it out.” She paused. “Be ready, Kaylie.”
Be ready to get out if the barn burns.
A Merciful Secret Page 27