Never Cry Mercy

by L. T. Ryan

  Jack said nothing as he watched his older brother break down. As much as it hurt, he imagined the pain would be a hundred times worse when his parents learned of their only daughter's death.

  Minutes passed as the brothers stood watch over their sister's body. Jack aimed the pistol at the darkness, swearing that if one of them showed their face, he'd shoot first.

  Beams of light cut through the darkness. "Hello? Police. Anybody back here?"

  Neither boy spoke. They stared down at their sister as the lights brightened the area.

  "Is anyone back there?" an officer called out.

  "Here," Sean said.

  Jack glanced down at his brother, who gestured at the pistol. Jack tossed it into the grass and held his arms out as the light washed over him.

  "OK, just stay put," an officer said. "You on the ground, stand up."

  "I'm not leaving my sister," Sean said.

  "I said stand up."

  "Y'all can drag me to jail," Sean shouted. "I'm not leaving my sister."

  There were at least three of them, all apparently ready for a gunfight with a twelve- and fourteen-year-old.

  "Our sister was shot," Jack said. "She's...she's dead."

  "Jesus Christ," one of the officers said. He stepped forward, and Jack recognized him as John Wiley, a friend of their father. "Oh, Christ. Jack, Sean, you boys all right? Are you hurt?"

  Both shrugged. Their injuries were nothing to worry about at that moment.

  The other officers eased up. They convinced the brothers to leave watch of their sister's body. They walked off into the darkness, allowing her soul time to leave.

  Chapter 67

  The cabin rocked on its foundation. Probably slid off it. The windows exploded inward. Fragments of glass and shrapnel from the truck sliced through the air. Something gouged my back. Reese screamed in pain.

  Darrow fell backward, clinging to the rifle. A cloud of smoke enveloped him. I swept the area for Vernon, but he was nowhere to be found.

  "Reese," I called out. "Are you OK?"

  Seconds passed. I pushed up off the floor, ignoring the pain that ransacked my body. Smoke continued to blanket the room. Heat pushed down on me. I looked up and saw the ceiling ablaze. The weathered wooden structure would go up in a matter of seconds.

  Reese lay motionless on the floor. I rose into the smoke, slid my feet across the ground, doing my damnedest to keep them from lifting up and letting glass underneath. Didn't matter how I proceeded. The shards found their way into the soles of my feet.

  "Come on, sweetie," I said. "Show me you're OK."

  She didn't.

  Movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. Darrow sat up. He held his head in one hand. Blood seeped through his fingers. I followed his gaze to the floor. The rifle was halfway between us.

  Without hesitation, I dove for it. Dozens of tiny glass fragments sliced through me, embedding themselves. I landed a couple feet from the weapon and had to crawl forward.

  Darrow jumped after I had, yet managed to land a bit closer. He had a hand on the rifle.

  "Not today." I pushed off the floor and dove forward. The side wall blazed orange. Smoke rushed out through the doorway. The structure creaked and groaned. It would collapse at any moment.

  Darrow turned the rifle sideways. He had one hand under the barrel, and was bringing his other to the trigger. I lurched forward, grabbed the barrel, and twisted it around toward me. Not my best idea. All he had to do was squeeze the trigger and I was done for. I rolled to the right and aimed the weapon to the left. If it went off now the slug would come close to Reese.

  "Don't move, Reese," I called out.

  The blast deafened me. The discharge left me momentarily blinded. The barrel scorched my hand.

  A second later the first part of the structure came down. A beam that ran the length of the cabin landed on Darrow's legs. The roof caved in, sending flaming joists and pieces of roof down. I lurched forward, twisted and yanked the rifle from his grasp.

  He reached back in an attempt to free himself from the flaming wood. The flame wrapped around his hands and shot up his shirt.

  "Help me!"

  "I'll help you all right." I put the barrel to his head and pulled the trigger.

  Another section of the roof came down, this time close to Reese. She didn't budge. Had Darrow's shot hit her? Was she choking on the smoke? I scooped her up and carried her out of the cabin. Moments later, the structure came down in a fiery crash. A wave of heat blew past, knocking me to a knee. The flames rose high, and lit up an acre or two of the surrounding area. I swept the landscape. Didn't spot Vernon or anyone else. Maybe the coward had run. Only thing I saw was the burned out truck and a late model F-250.

  "Reese?" I cradled her in my arms. Her face was close to mine. I placed my cheek on her mouth, leaving a gap under her nostrils. I felt hot, erratic breath. She showed no other signs of life. I was torn between performing a more thorough evaluation to make sure she was OK, and getting us away from the burning remains of the cabin. I stopped next to the F-250 and went over her as quickly as I could. There were no apparent major injuries, so I placed her in the cab, then climbed into the driver's seat. I reached for the ignition. The keys weren't there. Son of a bitch, they must've been on one of the men. No chance I was finding them now.

  Before giving up hope, I checked the glove box. Nothing. Then the console. Nothing. Headlights appeared in the rear-view.

  "Come on, not now."

  My first thought was to get the pistols that I'd dropped by the other truck. The chances of them surviving the blast and remaining in working condition were minimal. Glancing over to the fire surrounding the other truck, I realized even getting to where they were on the ground would be impossible.

  I climbed down from the cab. There were at least two sets of headlights on the way out. Vernon must have called in some reinforcements. The bastard was in hiding, waiting for them. I had a feeling he'd emerge once we were detained. Finish the job.

  I ran my hands under the driver's front wheel well. Then the passenger's side. At the rear I found what I was looking for. A small magnetic box held a spare key. I jammed it in the ignition, closed my eyes, took a deep breath. The engine cranked, failed to turn over. I tried again. Same result. Not good. Two vehicles incoming. At least two men to a car. No way was I taking on four people in my current condition. We'd have to run. And we wouldn't get far. Out of desperation, I slammed my foot down on the gas pedal and turned the key. It cranked. I held the key in the same position, pumped the gas. The engine roared. I drove past the blaze, away from the incoming convoy, into the darkness without any idea what lay ahead or if there was a way off the property. All I knew was I had to get somewhere I could try and revive Reese.

  And then find Vernon.

  For the first few miles I kept the headlights off. The truck bounced over hills and through ditches. We made it across a stream and through a patch of thick mud. We did this all at under twenty-five miles an hour. The moon illuminated the ground enough that I could make out most obstacles before it was too late. The ones I didn't see weren't anything the truck couldn't handle.

  Reese moaned, then called out in pain. She opened her eyes, flinched and struck out at the air.

  "It's OK." I reached for her hand. She fought me off. "Reese, it's Jack. We're all right."

  "Jack?" She forced herself up, staring at me as though she hadn't seen me in years. She grabbed her head. "God, it hurts. What happened?"

  I told her how I had rigged the truck, and how she had attacked Darrow moments before the vehicle exploded. I explained that the house caught on fire, and that something had struck her, rendering her unconscious.

  "Are they dead?" she asked.

  "Darrow is." I glanced up at the rear view. It appeared they hadn't followed us. Not closely, at least. I still wasn't certain we were far enough from the house to turn on the lights.

  "What about Vernon?" she asked.

  "He got away. At
least, I assume he did. There were two other trucks when I'd arrived. This was the only one left."

  "We have to find him. He could turn everything around and pin it on us."

  I had a feeling we'd find him in one of three places. But first, we had to get to town.

  "Look around," I said. "Any of this look familiar to you?"

  Her ensuing laughter was one of the best sounds I'd ever heard

  "What?" I said.

  "It all looks the same. Cut on the lights."

  "I don't know if we're far enough away yet."

  She closed her eyes and leaned back against the open window. The wind created a part in her hair on the left side. "Head northwest. That should bring us near town."

  I'd been on a westward trajectory, so making the adjustment didn't require us to pass through harm's way.

  "Just keep pushing forward," she said. "We'll be there soon."

  And with that, she drifted off again.

  Chapter 68

  We reached town a couple hours later. The moon expanded against the horizon. Streetlights lit up the perimeter of Texline. I searched the truck before ditching it a quarter mile from town. Came up with a tire iron and not much else. Reese said she had a Smith & Wesson M&P 40 at the house. That'd only do us good if we could reach it. I had a feeling the path would be littered with cops.

  We hiked into town, made it there by dawn. We stuck to side streets and backyards. Reese had refused to remain behind with the truck. She'd recovered enough to keep moving, but required assistance over any unavoidable obstacles.

  My hope was that Vernon waited at the police station. It was the only place he was safe anymore. Presumably he had surrounded himself with two or three of his best deputies. He would have concocted a story in his favor.

  And against ours.

  We reached the street behind Reese's place, found a spot to hide that allowed us to keep watch. I stared at darkened windows. Saw nothing. I was partly relieved, and partly disappointed. I'd rather have a showdown and be done with this.

  "Let's just go, Jack," Reese said. "What are the chances someone's in there?"

  "Better than you think," I said.

  "Darrow's gone. His guys aren't gonna bother with us. The townies are idiots, and the rest are recouping, trying to figure out how to pull off that deal. All we have to worry about is Vernon. He can't hide the truth forever. So if they're waiting for us, or they come for us, let them take us. I'll make whatever call I have to and get us moved. OK?"

  I nodded. "OK, here's how we do this." I laid out a plan that had Reese staying behind and watch the front entrance after I went inside.

  She reached out, pulled me close, kissed me. It hurt like hell, but neither of us stopped for several seconds.

  "We don't have to find him," she said. "We can get in there, grab a few things and go, Jack. The two of us, we'll disappear."

  I held her hand, gently tracing around the scratch the zip tie had left behind on her wrist. "Then we'll be running. Forever. I don't live like that. Hell, I can't live like that. It's not in my DNA. We have to end this. If you're uncomfortable, then stay behind and let me do it. I'll get you after it's done, then we can go."

  She looked down. "I'm just tired. I hurt. And I can't believe all this is happening. I knew about Darrow, but Vernon was my friend, and he was willing to kill me to hide his secret."

  "That's one of the deepest parts of men. Let them get away with something truly evil and they'll draw from the darkest part of their souls to protect that which no one else can ever know. You did nothing wrong. And now we have a chance to set everything right. We can put Vernon where he belongs, and stop anyone from profiting on this deal Darrow had set up."

  She steeled her face. The tough-as-nails NYPD detective had shown back up. "You're right. Finish this and then we'll leave." She smiled. "I hear Hawaii is beautiful this time of year."

  I hopped the fence and sprinted to the corner of the house. The driveway was empty. I only saw half the street, but there was no one there. I leaned against the house, tuning out the chirping birds, the rumbling garbage truck and its squeaky brakes on the other street, and the faint sound of barking dogs.

  I slowly made my way to the front. The fifteen feet from the corner of the building to the doorway felt as though they took forever. I was exposed in a way that left me feeling naked.

  Someone rushed in from behind.

  I turned, arms up ready to fight.

  Reese threw her hands in front of her face to deflect the possible blow.

  "Jesus," I said. "The hell are you doing?"

  "I'm not going to let you face any of this alone, Jack."

  "Fair enough, but next time warn me."

  I led the way to the door. It was still unlocked, and opened without a problem. I peered around the corner. Dodge sat at the top, ears back, head down, his eyes focused on me. He lowered his head until it rested on his front paws.

  "Anyone?" she asked.

  "Vernon's dog."

  "Dammit. I forgot he was there when we—" she hesitated "—when I was taken."

  It was still easy for her to forget Vernon hadn't been on her side at that time.

  "I'm going in," I said. "I want you to remain in the foyer, keep the door open a bit and watch outside for anyone coming at us."

  I took the stairs one at a time, stepping on the edges to minimize noise. The wolf-like dog remained at the top of the stairs until I was eye level. I reached out to pet him. He stood and turned, disappearing behind the knee wall. I continued to the top, poked my head around the corner. Dodge stood in front of Reese's door now. He looked back at me, made eye contact, went in the room.

  "We good down there?" I asked.

  "Yeah," she said. "How about up there?"

  "It's quiet. Just need to check out your room."

  "What's the dog doing?"

  "Don't know. He just went into your room."

  "I'm coming up." She let the door fall closed and climbed the stairs.

  I moved forward without her, stopping to check the bathroom. There was no need to go inside, I could see it all from outside the doorway. I whistled for Dodge. He didn't come. When I reached the edge of Reese's room, I saw why.

  "Jesus."

  "What is it?" she asked.

  I stepped aside and let her look.

  "Vernon," she whispered.

  We stood at the side of the bed looking down at the man. He'd found her pistol, and put it to the same use I would have. A single shot through his head. A cloud of blood, skull and brain painted the wall.

  I ushered Reese out of the room, then returned for Dodge, slipping a makeshift leash on him in order to get him out of the house. We weren't out there thirty seconds when a cruiser pulled up. Miles got out and raced toward the house. He looked over each of us, his face twisted with confusion. Shaking his head, he composed himself.

  "We're too late?" he said.

  I nodded. "He's upstairs, in Reese's room."

  "Whose room?" Miles said.

  "Sorry, Billie's."

  "Oh." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of yellow notebook paper. Handed it to me.

  I read over a suicide note and confession of sorts. It started off outlining Darrow's final deal. The one he alluded to at the cabin. It was a massive deal, with three working parts consisting of Darrow, a drug cartel, and a terrorist cell. The meeting was to take place the next day.

  "I can put you in touch with the right people, Miles. They'll take care of the rest of Darrow's crew, and whoever else shows up for this. I'm sure they'll want to talk to all of them."

  He nodded as he walked past me, toward the door. "We'll head to the station in a few. I just want to verify the body and call it in."

  Reese pressed against me and placed a hand on the notebook paper. Vernon's letter continued with a confession to the murders of Ingrid and Herbie. He admitted that he did it to pin the case on me in hopes that I'd be out of their hair after he'd locked me up. I had trouble acceptin
g that, as Vernon was the one who freed me from the jail cell. There had to have been a reason why, but he didn't make note of it. Perhaps he had regretted what he had done to my sister all those years ago.

  Finally, the note ended with him telling his wife and family he was sorry for his sins, and asked them to forgive him for taking his own life.

  Miles came back down a few minutes later. Another cruiser pulled up and the female officer joined us.

  "Billie," he said. "Would you mind waiting here with Jaimie for the coroner? He's on his way. I want to sit down with Jack and make sure we don't lose any time contacting his people."

  "Sure, Miles. I'll wait." She turned to me. "Hurry back?"

  "Of course."

  She leaned in and kissed me, then whispered in my ear. "I'm not kidding about Hawaii."

  I whispered back, "I might have a connection or two there."

  Chapter 69

  Crystal River, Florida, 1988

  Jack and Sean spent the night at the hospital in the same room. John Wiley remained outside their door, working frantically to reach their father. Jack was woken up every hour on the hour when some nurse or doctor poked or prodded or forced him to take a pill. Every time he rose, he remembered the events of the night. First, as a nightmare, but as the sleep faded away, he knew it had happened.

  By the time the sun came up, he felt as though he were ready for another night of sleep.

  His parents entered the room sometime after seven. Both broke into heavy sobs before reaching their boys. The family huddled together, crying, for several minutes. Wiley remained on the fringes, torn between his police duties, and his duties to his friend. He had to act, though. Every second they worked with no lead, the greater the chance of never finding Molly's killer.

  "I'm sorry to do this," John Wiley said, "but we've got to interview your boys."

  "Like hell," the elder Noble said. "This is no time for that."

  "You understand how this works. I know you do. If we don't get some information now, we'll never know. Do you want Molly's death to go unavenged?"

  At that moment it seemed their father was ready to avenge it himself. He lunged at his friend, pinning him to the wall with a hand around his throat.