Fatal Frost

by Nancy Mehl

  Mercy nodded at her father. Although she still kept him at arm’s length, she’d agreed to meet him for an occasional lunch. After the shooting, he’d tried to see her, but she’d sent him away. Finally, after several weeks, Tally had convinced her that she should at least let him know she was on the mend.

  “No matter what he did, he’s still your father,” he’d told her.

  Tally had worshiped her father when they were kids. When Nick abandoned his family, Tally had been wounded as well. Tally had never known his dad, and Nick was the only older man in his life. The only man he respected anyway. Mercy was sure Tally’s desire to be a cop came from his feelings for Nick. When Nick came back to St. Louis and rejoined the police department, he and Tally seemed to pick up where they left off. But Mercy wasn’t able to do that. She would never forgive her father for leaving.

  Nick cleared his throat and stared down at his plate. “I’m glad you’re okay. I came by the hospital several times.”

  “I’m fine.” Mercy took a bite of her burnt-ends sandwich, and the juicy smoked flavor of the meat exploded in her mouth. Pappy’s Smokehouse in St. Louis was the best barbecue in town. She ignored the twinge in her shoulder. “Takes more than a couple of bullets to bring me down.”

  “Good.” Nick picked up his brisket sandwich and stared at it. He hadn’t eaten much since they’d sat down. Mercy wondered if something was bothering him, but she didn’t care enough to ask.

  “You two doing okay?”

  Mercy looked up at the waitress, who stood next to their table. She was focused on Nick. If Mercy’s hair caught on fire, the girl probably wouldn’t notice. Nick was a handsome man. His dark hair framed a rugged face, and his steel-blue eyes and long dark lashes caught the attention of most women. The fact that he obviously worked out didn’t hurt either.

  “We’re good,” he said, smiling up at her. She blushed at his attention. “Do you need anything, Mercy?” he asked, turning to look at her.

  Mercy shook her head and sighed.

  When the waitress finally left, she seemed disappointed that she wasn’t able to do anything else for her good-looking customer.

  “So when do you go back to full duty?”

  Mercy shrugged. “When the staff psychiatrist clears me. This woman won’t be happy unless I have a complete nervous breakdown. I’ve told her I’m fine, but she acts like I’m lying. It’s ridiculous. She seems to think all cops are two seconds away from going nuts and shooting up the mall.”

  “The same thing happened to me. When you’re shot, they assume it will mess with your head. If it doesn’t, they get concerned. If you tell her you’ve had some sleepless nights, and you occasionally relive the shooting in your dreams, she’ll decide you’re normal and release you.”

  “I . . . I didn’t know you’d been shot,” Mercy said. “You’ve never mentioned it.”

  Nick gave her a slow smile. “It happened about five years ago. We weren’t in touch, and I didn’t think you’d be interested.”

  Mercy didn’t acknowledge that he was right. “What happened?”

  “My partner and I were looking for a guy who’d been robbing banks in Richmond. We got a tip that he’d holed up in a house on the west side. We were going up to the front door when he flung the door open and fired on us.” He shrugged. “One bullet hit my vest, but the other grazed my neck.” Nick pulled his collar down and pointed to a deep scar on the side of his neck that Mercy hadn’t noticed before. It appeared to be more than just a graze.

  “Looks serious.”

  Nick grunted. “Bled a lot, but I got through it. My partner took the guy down before he had time to shoot me again. Department shrink wouldn’t believe I was okay. You know, emotionally, so I made up some stories and convinced him I was traumatized. Eventually he bought it and I was put back on full duty.” He chuckled. “Makes you wonder. If you say you’re fine, they take you off duty, but if you convince them you’re messed up, they stick you back out there. No wonder cops have so many problems.”

  Mercy marveled at how similar she was to her father, even though they’d been apart for so long. “Thanks for the tip. I’ll give it a try.”

  “Happy to help.” He stared down at his plate for a moment before clearing his throat. Obviously he had something on his mind.

  “What’s up?” Mercy said finally.

  “I know it’s not my business,” Nick said, “but I just wondered how that guy got the drop on you. How did he get off the first shot?”

  Mercy’s spine stiffened. No one else had asked this question. Tally had assumed the punk who shot her got a round off so quickly that Mercy hadn’t had time to respond. But she knew it wasn’t the truth. Now her dad asked the same question she’d been asking herself over and over. Though he was the last person she wanted to talk to about it, she found herself answering him.

  “I’m afraid I hesitated. It was my first shooting. I mean, he was young, in his twenties. I know we’re trained to take down anyone who puts our lives at risk, but . . .”

  “But it’s not as easy as it sounds?” Nick said.

  Mercy nodded. “I guess that makes me a bad cop.”

  “No.” Nick looked deeply into Mercy’s eyes. “It makes you human, and that’s the hallmark of a great cop.”

  “Except I could have died. Shooting first and asking questions later is tough. Hard to do when some people think we enjoy taking lives.”

  Nick sighed. “No one’s perfect. We can’t be more than human. We’re not diplomats, we’re enforcers. Protectors. We have to make split-second life-and-death decisions. Most of us are trying to do the best we can. Sometimes we’re going to get it wrong.” He shrugged. “The important thing—the thing that will keep you sane—is knowing who you are. If you start seeing yourself through the eyes of our detractors, it will cripple you. You’ll never be able to do your job.”

  “Easier said than done.”

  Nick nodded. “Yeah, it is. But it’s the only way to come out of this life in one piece.”

  Mercy watched as her father finally took a bite of his sandwich. What he’d said made sense. It helped. More than anything the shrink had said so far. She was trying to find a way to thank him for his advice when his expression changed. He was staring past her, looking out one of the big windows in the front of the restaurant. His eyes widened, and his jaw became tight.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked.

  “No,” he said too quickly. “Everything’s fine.”

  It was obvious to Mercy that he wasn’t “fine.” The look on his face was one she’d never seen before. Although she wanted to turn around to see what he was looking at, she resisted the impulse. If he’d recognized a perp, it was the worst thing she could do. But why didn’t he just tell her the truth? Maybe she could help.

  Then as quickly as the change in Nick came, it left. He looked relaxed again, and Mercy decided to let it pass. If he wanted her assistance, he’d have to let her know. She couldn’t read his mind.

  He asked about Tally, and they spent the rest of their lunch talking about him and his family. Mercy wondered if Nick would bring up her mother, but he didn’t. When he first came to town and asked to see her, Mercy made it clear that his leaving had driven his ex-wife to alcoholism and had exacerbated her mental illness. While he’d seemed remorseful about the effect he’d had on his children, he didn’t have much to say about Mercy’s mom.

  “Gina was never emotionally strong,” he’d said. “I’m sorry I hurt her by leaving, but even when I was with her, nothing made her happy. She was determined to be miserable. I just couldn’t take it anymore.”

  And that was it. His attitude had infuriated Mercy, and it had taken months before she’d agreed to see him again. If he felt living with Gina was too much to bear, how did he expect his young kids to do it? Unfortunately, what he’d said was true. Her mother seemed determined to live in self-pity. Starting at age ten, Mercy spent most of her young life taking care of her mom. Trying to find a way to make he
r happy until Mercy finally realized it was impossible. Eventually the responsibility took a heavy toll. Between dealing with her mother and trying to take care of her younger brother, she’d worn herself to a frazzle. If it hadn’t been for Tally, she wasn’t sure what would have happened to her. He gave her the courage to move out and join the police force.

  Her mother had become distraught when Mercy told her she was leaving. She’d done everything she could think of to get Mercy to change her mind, including piling on the guilt. “Who will take care of me?” she asked, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Everyone leaves me. I’ll be all alone.” Upset by her reaction, Mercy almost relented, but in the end, and with Tally’s encouragement, she decided she had a right to live her own life. Surprisingly, Gina found a way to cope. Mercy still stopped by her mom’s house twice a week to make sure she was okay, but Mercy no longer took responsibility for her mother’s actions. Dealing with her was still difficult, but at least now Mercy didn’t allow herself to get dragged down by her mother’s occasional outbursts of anger and self-pity.

  “I need to run to the bathroom,” Mercy said after she finished her lunch. “I’ll be right back.”

  As she stood she noticed once again that her father’s attention appeared to be riveted toward the front of the restaurant. He didn’t say anything, just nodded at her.

  When she returned to the table she carefully scanned the large windows near the entrance. There were people standing on the sidewalk—not unusual for Pappy’s since it was always busy. A couple of large men caught Mercy’s eye. They seemed out of place. They weren’t talking to anyone else, and they looked stiff and uncomfortable. Were they the reason her father was so uptight?

  She’d just sat down when Nick announced he was ready to leave. “I gotta get back to the station. Sorry.”

  “Not a problem.” Mercy started to stand when Nick grabbed her arm and pulled her back down.

  “Wait a minute,” he said. His eyes searched hers, and Mercy felt uncomfortable. She pulled her arm away.

  “I’m sorry, Mercy. Sorry I let you and your brother down.”

  “You’ve already said that—”

  “Let me finish,” he said sharply.

  She fell silent and waited for him to continue, not really wanting to hear what he had to say.

  “I need you to know that my leaving had nothing to do with you or your brother. It wasn’t even your mother’s fault. The fault was all mine. Every bit of it. The woman I left your mother for wasn’t worth losing my family over. I thought she was, but down through the years I’ve learned that women who are willing to be involved with married men are selfish. Shallow. Destroying a family is a terrible thing to do. Only someone with a cold heart can even begin to consider it.”

  He rubbed his face with his hand and continued. “It sounds like I’m blaming her, but I’m not. I’m the one responsible. My family should have been everything to me, and it wasn’t. How I could have put her above you all is something I will never understand. I was blind. And stupid.” He stared down at the table for a moment before looking up. Mercy was surprised to see tears in his eyes. “That’s it. I just wanted you to know how much I regret what I did. I know I can never fix it.” He took a deep breath and gave Mercy a smile tinged with sadness. “I also want you to know how proud I am of you. In spite of me, you grew up to be a fine young woman, and a great law-enforcement officer. I know you won’t believe this, but I love you, Mercy. I’ve loved you every day since you were born, even though I’ve done a terrible job of showing it.”

  Although Mercy didn’t want to be moved by his apology, she found she was. “Thank you for saying that,” she said softly. “But as I told you before, it will take a long time for me to forgive you—if I ever do. Let’s just take it one day at a time, okay?”

  “I understand. I just needed to get those things off my chest. It’s important to me.” Nick’s attention shifted back to the restaurant’s front window.

  “Look,” Mercy said, “if you need backup . . .”

  “No. I’m okay.” He stood and grabbed his coat. “I’ll call you later, Mercy. Keep your phone handy.” For a moment, Mercy thought he was going to say something else, but he just stared at her for several seconds as if memorizing her face. Then he walked away, heading toward the back exit.

  She waited until he left before pulling on her jacket and turning toward the front entrance again. The men in the window who’d seemed suspicious were gone now.

  “You’re losing it, Mercy,” she said to herself. “You’re seeing criminals around every corner.” Even though she’d told the department shrink she had no lingering problems after the shooting, in truth, she was still jumpy. This wasn’t the first time she’d thought some innocent person looked fishy. Angry at allowing herself to get pulled into her father’s drama, she tried to push away the hard knot of concern in her stomach. But it wouldn’t be so easily dismissed.

  Chapter

  Four

  Mercy stared at her almost empty refrigerator. Some milk, leftover Chinese food that should have been thrown away a week ago, mustard, mayo, and a sad-looking wrinkled apple. She thought about picking something up from a nearby carryout, but in the end she grabbed a box of cereal off the counter, poured some in a bowl, and covered it with milk. Then she plopped down in front of the TV. At least she’d had a good lunch at Pappy’s.

  She’d been plagued all afternoon by a nagging sense of apprehension. Maybe it was just the aftereffects of spending time with her father. She tried to dismiss it, but her dad’s face kept floating in front of her. He’d seemed . . . different. Introspective. She sighed and shook her head. It had been a long day, and she was too tired to think about Nick.

  She’d just started watching a show she recorded a couple of days earlier when someone knocked on the door. She looked down at her sweatpants and old T-shirt covered with paint stains. It certainly wasn’t her best outfit, but anyone who thought it was okay to stop by without calling didn’t deserve any better.

  She put her cereal bowl down on the coffee table and went to the front door, first looking out the peephole. Mercy was surprised to see Tally standing there. Though he lived next door, he always called or texted before coming over. She pulled the door open.

  “Your phone quit working?” she said teasingly. The look on his face stopped her cold. “What’s wrong?”

  “I need to come in, Mercy,” he said, his expression frozen and unreadable.

  She swung the door open and ushered him inside, out of the cold. Although she wanted to question him, she couldn’t get any words out. They seemed to be stuck in her throat.

  Tally walked over to her couch and sat down. He patted the place next to him. “Will you sit down, please?”

  “No.” Somewhere inside she knew what Tally was going to say, and she felt the need to stay on her feet.

  Tally stared down at the coffee table for several seconds before meeting her eyes. “It’s your dad, Mercy.” He gulped several times, obviously emotional.

  “He’s dead,” she said flatly. It was as if she’d known it for hours but hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it.

  Tally nodded slowly.

  “How?”

  “He got caught up in a gang fight. He was shot.”

  “When?”

  “We found him a couple of hours ago. I . . . I asked the chief if I could be the one to tell you.”

  Mercy stared at Tally, unable to take her eyes off him. Her father’s last words to her echoed in her head, bouncing around as if they had a mind of their own.

  “We had lunch today,” she said quietly. “He was . . . strange. Apologized to me again. Told me he loved me and that he was proud of me. It was like he was saying good-bye.”

  Tally frowned at her. “I don’t think he could have known, Merce. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  Mercy shook her head. “No. He knew. I don’t know how, but he did. I think I expected to hear something had happened to him.”

&
nbsp; Tally’s skepticism showed on his face, but he didn’t argue with her. “Please sit down,” he said again. He pointed at her bowl of cereal on the coffee table. “Annie made the most amazing pot roast for dinner. I’ll make you a plate. You need something better than this.”

  While she wasn’t really hungry anymore, she didn’t have the will to disagree. She finally came over and sat down on the couch. He put his arm out, and she leaned against his shoulder. They sat silently for a few minutes. Finally, Tally got up and left to get her food. Mercy stayed where she was, listening to a voice whisper in her head, “I love you, Mercy. I’ve loved you every day since you were born, even though I’ve done a terrible job of showing it.”

  Mercy’s fingers trembled as she slid her key into the lock on her front door. Nick’s funeral had shaken her. Unfortunately this wasn’t her first cop funeral. Any officer killed while on duty was always treated to an almost military-like funeral with all the imaginable pomp and circumstance. City and state officials showed up in force, the chief of police presented a folded flag to the family, cops turned out in full dress uniform, and bagpipers played “Amazing Grace.” At the entrance of the church two fire trucks were parked on each side of the sidewalk, a large flag draped between them for the mourners to pass under on their way into the sanctuary. Police helicopters flew overhead in tribute. On the way to the cemetery, the cold weather hadn’t deterred citizens from lining the roads, many with their gloved hands on their hearts. Some waved small flags.

  She was prepared for all of it, but what she couldn’t prepare for were the people who had loved and respected her father. Their grief was real. She was bombarded by coworkers and friends from Virginia and St. Louis, who wanted her to know the kind of man they believed Nick was. She heard the same things repeated over and over: “A cop’s cop. Honest. Brave. Selfless.” As she forced herself to smile and thank them, she felt as if they were talking about someone she’d never met.

  “Don’t forget your flag.”

  After the lock clicked open, Mercy turned around. Annie held out the folded flag the chief of police had presented to Mercy during the funeral. Annie and Tally had driven her to the service, but before they left the cemetery, Tally had been called away. She wondered why. He’d looked upset after taking a call on his cellphone and had taken off without saying good-bye.