by Dale Mayer
“Is it a boy or girl?”
He tilted his head, and his lips came up on one side. “A boy.”
“Can you tell me when he was born?”
“Eleven years ago.”
“Does he have a name?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know those details.”
She nodded; she couldn’t imagine. Thank God, her mother wasn’t alive to hear this. Her mother would have been horrified to hear Anna had given up her son. Mercy couldn’t do anything about it at this point, except hope that, down the road, the boy went looking for his family. “Maybe it’s a good thing my mother is gone. The news would have broken her heart all over again.”
“Wait and see. Nothing can be done to contact him for a lot of years yet.”
She nodded. “And that’s just as hard to deal with. My mother would have taken the child in. No matter the problem with Anna, we would’ve taken them both in, had we known.”
“Maybe she didn’t have a choice. Maybe she thought she could keep it and raise it and then realized, in the end, there was no other way.”
“He’s not even mentioned in the journal,” Mercy said suddenly. “Surely if Anna knew she would die or was in danger, she’d spare a thought for the child she walked away from.”
“A lot of women walk away, and it’s permanent. They shove it deep inside. They don’t think about it. For other women, when they put up their child for adoption, it haunts them daily. There’s no way to know.”
Mercy hated to think it had been easy for her sister to walk away, even though Anna had not had an easy life and had a much harder death. She must have been terrified at the end. And that brought Mercy back to the man who died at her sister’s side. “She must have spent some nights at Sammy’s place. Was there any sign left of her or him when you moved in?”
“No. Everything had been cleaned out.”
“Did you look behind the medicine cabinet?”
“I tried, but mine is bolted in. What made you decide to look there?”
“I was brushing my teeth and noticed it was a little off. When I straightened it, it was lose, easy to pull out. They are supposed to be screwed in for safety.”
“She probably removed the screws, intended to replace them, but they wouldn’t hold in the dry wall without anchors. I still think you shouldn’t return again.”
“And I think I have to. If you’re staying, then we’re both in danger. If one of us leaves, it puts the other one in more danger.”
He studied her for a long moment. “I can take care of myself.”
She winced. “Of course you can. I, on the other hand, am a complete dunce about any kind of self-defense. However, I know how to keep my head down and continue working.”
“Yet, you’re tired,” he said abruptly.
“I am,” she admitted. “It’s not the easiest of jobs. At the same time, there was something almost welcoming about following my sister’s path.”
“As long as you don’t follow it all the way to the same end,” he reminded her. He glanced at his watch and said, “We’re out of time. We have fifteen minutes before the gate closes.”
She bolted to her feet. “Oh, my God. They won’t let either of us in after that.”
The two walked outside and hopped into his truck. As it was, they pulled into the gates moments before the security triggered them to lock down at 10:00 p.m.
Once inside the grounds, he parked close to his garage apartment. She opened the truck door and hopped out with her grocery bag. “I’m an idiot. I left my car back there,” she wailed.
“I’ll take you back in the morning. We’ll pick it up.”
She thought about that and frowned. “When do the gates open?”
“Six o’clock.”
She nodded with relief. “I don’t start work until seven, so that would work. And my car should be fine in the coffee shop parking lot.”
He smiled. “It’ll be fine.”
“Good night. And thanks for looking after me.” His smile surprised her. She didn’t think he gave them too often. She hated to admit it, but she looked forward to each and every one of them.
Knowing she was late—and probably being watched—she raced to the door, happy to find it was still unlocked. She didn’t know if the individual buildings were locked down at the same time or not. As long as she could get in, then it was all good.
As she entered, Martha stepped out from the corner. Her face was dark, a frown taking over most of her features. “You’re late,” she snapped.
Mercy’s surprise was genuine. “I didn’t realize there was a curfew. You told me the gates close at ten but didn’t say anything about the buildings or that I had to be in my room,” she said, puzzled. “I haven’t been sleeping all that well. I was thinking it would be nice to walk around in the evening.”
Martha shook her head. “Nobody is allowed outside after 10:00 p.m.”
Wondering what the hell was going on and why such a rule was necessary, Mercy said, “Okay. I didn’t realize that part.” She shifted her bag to her other hand and started toward the stairs. “I didn’t mean to break any rules.”
“Where’s your car?”
Her back stiffened at Martha’s harsh tone. “I left it at the grocery store. I was having coffee at the café and met Michael. When he told me how we had so little time to get back before the gates closed, I grabbed a ride with him rather than walking around back where my car was parked. I’ll go in the morning and pick it up.” Not waiting to hear Martha’s response, Mercy quickly raced up the stairs. She unlocked the door to her room and rushed inside. After slamming the door behind her, she relocked it. Martha was strict, and she was also damn scary.
Mercy carried her bag to the bed and dropped it, kicking off her shoes. She turned on the light, walked to the window and opened the curtain. Instinctively she knew she’d see somebody watching her from the far side. And, sure enough, Michael leaned against the window inside his apartment on the other side of the yard. She gave him a small wave and unpacked the little bit of groceries she had. She had taken a lot of her belongings when she went out earlier and discovered she had left one of the bags in her car. So the fact was, she was half moved out already. On that odd note she quickly got ready for bed. She’d had lots of coffee though so was still awake.
As she made her way to her bed, she pulled the covers back and froze. She’d been making beds Martha’s way all day inside the big house, but she hadn’t remade her bed the same. She’d used a shortcut, almost out of defiance, after having made so many in the last few days. Had she automatically fixed hers to match the rest of the house? She stood up slightly and studied the bed. No. Definitely somebody had straightened it out.
She glanced around the room. Had anything else been disturbed? Unnerved and wary, she did a thorough search of her small room and bathroom. But, since she hadn’t left much behind, outside of the bedding being straightened, she wasn’t sure she could prove she’d had an evening visitor.
She walked to the window and stared at Michael. Her phone buzzed. Knowing it was him, yet she hadn’t given him her number, she pulled it out and read the text. She quickly answered with
My room was searched.
How can you tell?
The bed has been made up differently.
She looked around the room as she waited for his response. What else had been done while she was gone? She thought about calling him, but was it possible her room had been bugged? Sharing this news with him over a phone call would also put him in trouble, and that was the last thing she wanted. This stuff was off the wall. It was making her hair stand up. She quickly texted him.
What if my room is bugged?
Her phone rang at the same time. She answered it, somehow knew it would be Michael.
“Get out. Get out now and stay out,” Michael responded.
She stared in shock at her phone. “Why?” She wanted to say more, but what if someone was listening?
“Don’t be a fool. Hasn’
t enough happened yet? Do you need the next thing to be bigger, worse than this?”
“I wondered why they’d do this, but there’s nothing here to find.”
Silence followed.
Until a text buzzed in her hand.
Get out now. Someone might be listening in.
Then she heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Shit.
*
Michael watched through the window, wishing she’d turn around and pack up the last of her stuff and sneak out. He knew the alarms would be set, and getting out might not be an easy thing, but considering the security system was on the blink, she might have a fair chance.
As he watched her at her bedroom window, once again he saw a flash of light at the ground floor landing, meaning someone was creeping upstairs. He quickly sent her a text, but she didn’t answer. He watched as she walked to the bed, her shadowy form beyond the sheers. She sat heavily on her bed, the overhead light still on. It might be enough to send the shadow a beam of light under her main door.
He sent another text in warning. And watched anxiously as the shadow stopped once again at the top of the landing, courtesy of the window there. As far as Michael understood, there had been no new hires. So this hallway lurker was somebody who’d been on the estate for a long enough time to know where Mercy was and even what she was doing in that room. He could see her flash around the room as if packing up. He sure as hell hoped so. She clicked off the lamp. Instantly her room was in darkness.
He studied the drop outside her window, but there was no veranda, no small patio and no fire escape. She had no way to get out of there, at least not easily. As he prepared to race across the yard and come to her rescue, he watched the shadow slowly creep downstairs again. Unnerved, he wanted to smash the asshole’s face to smithereens for tormenting her.
He watched as the light went out at the bottom of the stairs, and then the door next to those stairs opened. One of the security men came out, on a walkie-talkie. In essence he’d been checking that she was in her room. Seeing her light go off had confirmed she’d gone to bed.
Now that was creepy. Would they do the same for him?
He glanced around his room. He had a little bit more here than she did. His room had been checked within the first twenty-four hours of his arrival. They weren’t taking any chances on the estate. But he hadn’t brought anything suspicious with him and had worked hard to make sure he had nothing of any value either.
But he wasn’t ready to pack up and leave. He had to figure out what happened to Sammy before he left. Failure was not an option. In larger estates, often a hierarchy existed within the staff, and sometimes the lower-tier staff members had to pay the higher-tier staff members to just stay out of their life. He hadn’t been approached with a bribe like that, but he wouldn’t put it past this place. Although, if the boss found out, they’d be sacked in a heartbeat.
He turned his attention back to the window and sent a text to Mercy.
The security guard checked to see that you were inside. He’s now outside doing a perimeter walk.
The response came back almost instantly.
Okay. That makes sense.
Like hell. I wish you’d get out now.
I’m not leaving yet.
Then, damn it, when we get your car in the morning, make sure you leave nothing behind. You won’t be coming back.
He tossed his phone on the bed. He had to get her out of here. He hadn’t heard or seen anything, but his instincts were screaming at him. If for any reason they found out who she was, she’d be dead in a heartbeat.
Sleep that night was hard to come by. He dozed in one-hour blocks, waking and checking to make sure all was well, and then sleeping again. When five o’clock rolled around, he was already up, sipping coffee. The gates would open at six, and he wanted to be on the road getting her out of here at five minutes past six. She was a mite too stubborn for him. But he understood loyalty.
He also understood the need to get answers. But she had to walk away and leave that for the pros. He sent her a text at six.
Are you ready?
To get my car, yes, but I’m coming back. I want answers.
I’ll get the answers. You get to safety.
Going to get some breakfast.
He put away his phone. Don’t try any tricks, Mercy. These men are not to be fooled around with. But he already knew she wouldn’t cooperate.
Then he packed up the rest of his gear so it was all in one bag, loaded his laptop into his backpack, tossed it over his shoulder and walked out with the keys. He locked the apartment door behind him, set a trap to make sure he’d know if anybody had been in the apartment in his absence, then headed to his truck. He wasn’t officially on duty until seven-thirty. He had lots of time to get her into town to her car and to get back.
He warmed up the truck and pulled it to the side of the house. When she didn’t arrive, he sent her a quick text.
Engine’s running.
She didn’t come for the longest time. When he decided to find her himself, she came out, still munching on a piece of toast. She hopped in, bag in hand and shot him a grumpy look. “I need food, you know? So I made a piece of toast for the road.”
“You could eat in town.”
“Or I can eat on my way back,” she muttered.
“You aren’t going back.”
“Of course I am,” she said with spirit. “It makes perfect sense they’d be checking to ensure I was safe and sound last night.”
He shot her a look of disbelief. “When they weren’t checking to see if you were talking on the phone, sending messages, bringing over a visitor. … They could be doing all kinds of things.”
“You live in an ugly world, don’t you? If that’s what comes to mind …”
“And you’re not so innocent. Your sister was murdered. That should be enough to make you take major precautions.”
“I am. But it’s also enough for me to want answers.”
On impulse, he drove past her car and headed to the police station.
“What the hell,” she exclaimed. “Where are we going?”
“To talk to the detective. See if he has an update.”
Her anger subsided. “Oh, that’s a good idea.”
They were glad when they arrived to find the detective getting out of his own vehicle. He raised an eyebrow at the sight of the two of them together. “I don’t have much news,” he warned.
“You have some?” Mercy asked eagerly.
“Not really. I finally got your sister’s clothing, but there was nothing there. Her DNA was found on the toothbrush. I can give the items to you when our forensic team is done.”
Crestfallen, she nodded. “I went through them too.”
He looked at her. “What? How?”
Michael interjected. “That’s one of the reasons I wanted to see you. She took her sister’s place at the house. I want her out of there. It’s getting dangerous. And I don’t want to see her end up dead like her sister.”
The detective swore when he heard what she’d done. “That’s not smart. You’re in the middle of our investigation, and I can’t have that.”
She jutted her chin out at both men. “I did what I had to do. To get answers. And nobody else has gotten them for me.”
The detective turned to Michael. “How dangerous is it?”
Michael shrugged. “There hasn’t been anything specific, but every night they check to ensure she’s locked into her room.” Michael looked at her. “Plus she feels like she’s being watched all the time, and she’s always warned to stick to herself and to not talk to anybody else.”
The detective faced her. “Is that true?”
She nodded. “But it’s not that bad yet. I was scared when I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Nobody knocked. But knowing a man stood outside the door scared me. I understand now though. The security system’s all goofy. It makes sense for the guards to confirm if I’m inside or out.”
Michael glared at her. “
Honestly?”
The cop stared at her in surprise. “Surely you’re not that naive.”
She frowned at them both. “No, I’m not.”
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.”