by Dale Mayer
The detective shook his head. “Think about it. These men have killed twice. Nothing will stop them from killing a third time. If you become too nosy, too suspicious, or too anything else, they’d make sure you’re not around to prove the first two murders.”
“And yet, it’d be suspicious to have another person disappear from the estate.”
“Only if they weren’t the ones who made you disappear.” Michael’s voice was hard as he added, “They are planning something.”
The detective’s tone sharpened. “What and when?”
Michael gave a half smile. “You’ll know when I find out. So far lots of meetings are behind closed doors with lots of people coming and going, plus activity in the lower levels.”
“Lower levels?” Mercy repeated. “I know about the wine cellar, but that’s all.” Yet the place was huge, so it was possible.
He nodded. “Two full floors are below the main floor. One is set up as a big meeting room with a separate entrance and exit I haven’t found yet. The other floor is for a big wine cellar and storage room and some warehouse space.”
“Any idea what’s stored there?”
Michael sent a sideways glance at the cop. “I suspected drugs but, after seeing the notebook, likely guns or both. Yet there is an air of something happening, but I have no idea what’s going on. If we’re lucky, it’ll be a new shipment coming in.”
“Can you get down there to see?”
“Maybe. Depends what comes. They might need extra muscles. I don’t know that I can get pictures though.”
Mercy stepped back and listened as the two men discussed it. “I might be able to clean down there,” she said suddenly.
Both men looked at her and frowned.
She rushed into saying, “I’ve been sent to the cellar to get some wine. Just once though.”
“Did you see what else was down there?” the detective asked.
She shook her head. “It’s very dim, and it’s huge.”
“Is it big enough to store guns?” the detective asked. “Although he’d be foolish to keep everything on-site.”
“If he didn’t keep it on-site, it’s hard to watch over it,” Michael reminded him.
Mercy glanced at her watch. “We have to get my car and return to the estate. If anything happens, or if I feel any uneasiness, I’ll walk straight out. I’ll grab my stuff and go to my car. The gates will be open until 10:00 p.m. tonight. I can leave at any time. But, if that meeting is happening, you’ll need me to get photos of people coming and going.”
Michael shook his head. “Not photos. If I’m chauffeuring, I can set up a camera in the car. We’ll take photos of everyone getting in and out of my vehicle.”
She brightened. “That’s ingenious.”
He snorted. “It’s what I do.”
She gave him a beaming smile. “Good. I’m glad to hear that.”
In truth, she didn’t know what to think about him. That he took her to the police station and was trying to convince her not to return said a lot about how caring he was. It was good to know Michael was with her there. That he knew who she was and why she was there. Although she was in danger, having him close made her feel more secure. Maybe that wasn’t a good thing. She certainly didn’t want to get into any issues, like her sister had, but Mercy was already involved.
People who remembered her sister would say the way she died was to be expected. But her sister hadn’t been all bad. It was easy to judge people. Sometimes people lost track of who someone was on the inside.
Unfortunately Sammy and her sister were gone. All Mercy could do was surmise what might happen at this point and consider who on the estate was likely involved. She hated to say it, but she needed the police to find out what was going on. In whatever way that would be. While staying and working at the estate made her unhappy, she wasn’t quite ready to give up her post. She had this sense that she could do more, even though she’d tried everything she knew. Maybe she could talk to more people, like the nice kitchen assistant. But she didn’t know what his schedule was. “I have to get back. I don’t dare be late for work.”
She watched as the two men exchanged glances; then the detective gave a hard nod.
“You can return, but you have stay in touch. Just send me a simple text check in at 9pm tonight and again in the morning.” He glared at her and added, “And before you say something stupid, remember what happened to your sister.” He pulled out two business cards.
She winced. “That’s hardly fair.”
“There’s nothing fair about any of this,” Michael retorted. He took the cards the detective offered, giving one to Mercy. “Send him a text and also one to me.” Before they left the detective’s office, he grabbed a pen off the desk and quickly wrote down his name and phone number on a card and handed it back to the detective. “She already has my cell phone number,” he said by way of explanation. The detective stood. “I can’t force you to stay away,” he said, turning back toward her, “but everything inside of me says you shouldn’t return.”
She nodded. “Today I’ll go. Then I’ll see.”
Back in the truck, she glanced at Michael’s expression. “I’ll be careful, you know? I don’t have a death wish.”
He snorted. “Apparently you do. You’re going back.”
“Maybe I can find something useful,” she argued.
“Yeah, like what?”
She was at a loss for an answer. She hated to feel useless. “Talk to somebody to find out any information.”
“And maybe you won’t find out anything.”
“I found the notebook. I’ll stay today, maybe overnight, and then I’ll get out.”
As they pulled into the parking lot beside her car, before she could get out, he grabbed her hand so she couldn’t escape. “Promise?”
She sighed. “If you’re sure I’m in that much trouble, I promise.”
He nodded. “I’ll hold you to it. That means you will be coming out tomorrow morning at the latest. I’d rather have you leave tonight.”
“Why do you think they’re making sure I’m in my room?” she asked.
He peered out the windshield. “Logic suggests they don’t want you to see or hear something they’re doing.”
“But the doors are not locked from the outside. There’s nothing to stop me from leaving or going out to look around to see what they’re doing.”
He studied her face for a moment. “Unless they have cameras or alarms at your bedroom door. I thought your room might be bugged too.” He studied her face for a long moment. “How do you sleep there?”
“I’m exhausted, so I sleep like a log,” she admitted.
He nodded as if he expected that answer.
“To be expected. You work hard. Too hard.” He settled back. “Good. Be careful. I don’t want you falling sick.”
*
He waited until she got into her car, his mind worrying, fussing. What he had said was true. Sammy might’ve been a lot of things, but he’d have been very aware of any surrounding dangers. His instincts were second to none. Sure, Michael didn’t know what had ended Sammy’s life, but Michael would know soon enough. He’d find out.
He always kept his blinds closed, his lights off behind the curtains. Last night he’d sat up with his binoculars to see what was going on outside. And definitely something was going on. Two vehicles had been let in at midnight of the previous night, like he had told the detective earlier. They were still inside the triple garage at the house. A garage he suspected he wouldn’t be allowed anywhere close to. That was okay. Because as long as he wasn’t allowed someplace, that was where he wanted to be, and he’d get in on his own time.
But he had to make sure Mercy would be safe too. He understood her loyalty. He understood her need for answers. But he wanted her to get the hell away. He had her promise of only one more night. Now, maybe, if he was lucky, he’d get her out of here before nightfall. Then he could go walking about the estate, checking out a few things.
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br /> He drove back to the estate, making sure he was a car or two behind her. She drove between the gates and parked in her usual spot. He knew they’d already been noticed. He parked in his spot, hopped out and walked up to his apartment. Nothing had been disturbed. That went with his theory it was either bugged or they had a camera he hadn’t found, which pissed him off. He’d checked the place out thoroughly when he had first arrived; now he fully intended to give the place a clean sweep again.
When done, he checked his watch. It was time to go. Good or bad, his day as a chauffeur and gardener had started. He grabbed an apple from his fridge with a chunk of cheese, opened the door and headed downstairs. As soon as he exited, Bruce, the head of security and his boss, stood beside him.
Michael glanced at him and asked, “What can I do for you?”
“I’d like to know where you and the maid were this morning,” Bruce said in a hard voice.
Michael gave a casual shrug. “We ran into each other at a coffee shop last night. She hadn’t been feeling well, and it was late, so she hitched a ride with me. I drove her to get her car this morning.”
Bruce rolled his eyes and nodded. “Work in the yard today. Stay away from the garages and stick to the house, please. We’ll have a lot of security as we fix the lines.”
Michael nodded. “Sure, no problem.” He took a big bite of his apple and headed to the garden. Just what he had expected. All kinds of stuff going on. Now he had to figure out what it was.
Chapter 9
Mercy walked into the main house, looking for breakfast. She was starving again. That little bit of toast earlier had long been used up. With the amount of work she’d been doing, she was unsure if anything could fill her. In the kitchen, she found the chef prepping breakfast.
He lifted his gaze. “I’ll have a plate for you in a few minutes. Go sit outside.”
She nodded and grabbed a cup of coffee. Muffins were off to the side in a basket. She took one of those and stepped onto the veranda. She hoped the chef would bring her a big plate of food, and she could save the muffin for later. But, when she looked at the muffin, she realized how hungry she was. She finished it off in about five bites. She had no butter to go with it because she’d felt like she’d snatched it instead of being allowed it.
As she finished, the young guy she’d met the day before stepped out, only this time he was minus the smile. Without saying a word, he gave her a plate of eggs, sausage, and hash browns.
She smiled in relief. “Thank you,” she said. “I’m always hungry here.”
He shook his head and patted her shoulder. “We’re not supposed to be too friendly but no need to starve. I’ll bring the toast in a minute.”
Realizing from his words and manner he’d likely been chastised by Martha, like Mercy had, she gave him a quiet smile. “Well, the friendliness and extra food are appreciated. Thank you.”
He disappeared, and she dug in. It was a little hot outside, but it wasn’t too bad.
As she ate, she could hear voices approaching. This was a tiny little staff patio. She didn’t think anybody who worked inside the house took advantage of this. It was one of the reasons she liked to sit here. She could hear snippets of the conversation from those working outside.
“We’ve searched the lines all through the kitchen. There are no breaks, no tampering.”
“We have to keep searching. If we can’t get this going, we’ll have to run new lines. It needs to be done by noon today.”
“Got it.”
“Robert,” the first man said, “I’m not joking. Make sure it’s done by noon. Or else. Got that?”
She assumed it was Robert who answered, “We’ll do our best,” his voice a little nervous. Too bad she couldn’t see his face.
“No, that’s not good enough,” the other man said, his voice hardening a bit. “We need it done fast. We have things on tap that can’t go forward until we get the security system up and running.”
“Understood.”
The voices disappeared. She thought she heard one man still working on the side of the house.
Then the same young assistant came back out with a plate of toast. In his other hand he held a small plate with several muffins. He put them both down beside her. “If you don’t eat the muffins right now, you can always save them for when you take a break.”
She glanced up at him. “I haven’t been allowed to take any breaks.”
He nodded. “The place is touchy right now. Hang in there. You’ll be fine.”
At his words, she settled back and enjoyed her breakfast.
There was something very comforting about plain hot buttered toast after eating a meal. She packed the muffins in several napkins before putting them in each of her pockets and then carried her dishes inside, where she placed them on the counter beside the dishwasher. It looked like the chef and his assistant were meeting in a small nook to the side. She quickly left the room, headed out for her day. She’d be starting in the laundry room.
As she walked in, Martha stepped out. “Did you get your car?”
Forcing a bright smile, Mercy nodded. “Yes. Michael dropped me off downtown this morning.”
Martha checked her watch and realized Mercy was a few minutes early. “We have a lot of work to get through today.”
Mercy gave an internal cry of dismay. “The place has been scrubbed from top to bottom,” she said lightly. “I’m not sure what else there is to do.”
Martha gave her an unreadable look, then marched away. Mercy chose to take that as a sign nobody would explain anything to her.
She looked at her modified schedule. She had lots to do. It would be a long time before she had to ask for more work.
*
Michael ran errands, washed the vehicles inside and out and moved to the front yard. Never once did he go inside the garages. When he had tried, a security guard had blocked his entrance. When he explained what he wanted, the man turned to somebody else. Between the two, they brought out what Michael needed.
He walked back to the cars, figuring out how to gain access to the lower floors of the house. But that wouldn’t be so easy either. This place was locked down pretty heavily.
He also didn’t have any guns with him. Not that he needed them. A knife was more secretive, stealthy, more his style. By midafternoon he returned once again to yard work. As he walked to the garden shed to get the rose trimmers, he studied tracks through the fields. The estate covered ten acres, most of it cultivated landscape by the mansion. However, the other acres were hilly, and he’d never been away from the gardens. Other buildings could be here that he didn’t know about.
Considering the lower levels to the mansion, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility to have outside access to those levels. But where? Once his mind went in that direction, he realized how many other options there could be. A bunker? More underground buildings? No, he would expect something within the five-thousand-square-foot mansion itself, if they were moving trucks back and forth. He hadn’t seen any mansion access that could accommodate a truck, but, as he contemplated the tracks on the far side of the garden shed, he realized there was more here to see.
He put on the heavy-duty gloves for the trimmers and went back to the roses. They were thick and heavy and so in need of a trim, which could be done after the roots were well-established. He worked steadily, all the while keeping an eye on what was going on around him. He could hear noises off in the distance, past where he’d seen the tracks disappear. A road appeared to pass through the cedar hedge. But he was too far away, so he couldn’t see what was going on over there.
He had seen no sign of Mercy since they had parted ways earlier this morning. He had looked for her at the little dining patio corner, but, the one time he’d walked past it, she wasn’t there. As far as he was concerned, this was a stronghold, with everybody extremely well-trained. This was no place for her.
While he finished off a cluster of roses, he figured out a time frame to follow those tracks. He
was pretty sure an alarm was on his room’s door, probably on his windows also. He would have to disconnect those to leave and then reconnect them after he returned. He also considered a connecting door. Two apartments were above the repair garage. As far as he could tell, the other one was empty. He needed to find a way from one to the other. Absent a connecting door, he was hoping for attic access.
He finished another rosebush and tackled the one beside it. This was even bigger and older and in worse need of a trim. He returned to the shed, grabbed the wheelbarrow to collect all the rose trimmings and carried it to a large trailer used for transport to the dump, which had a special spot for compost materials.
On his return visit to clean up the last little bits and pieces, one of the security men waited for him. Michael collected the last of the trimmings, placed them in the wheelbarrow, laid his pruners on the top and said, “What can I do for you?”
“Take the rest of the compost to the dump now.”
He nodded; he knew it made no sense as the trailer was not even close to full yet. They were getting him out of the way. “No problem. I was planning to do that next anyway.”
“Robert is coming with you.”
Chapter 10
Mercy didn’t have time to worry about her circumstances for the rest of the day. She worked hard, kept her head down, saw nothing and heard nothing. Instead, people were friendlier than ever. She found some smiling at her and relaxing. Surely Michael was worried for nothing. Mercy worked so hard in the morning that, when lunch rolled around, she realized she’d almost missed it. She raced into the kitchen, snagged the plate waiting for her, cried, “Thanks,” and walked out to the designated patio.
The weather looked like it might turn ugly soon. She hoped it stayed pleasant enough for a while so she could continue to sit outside as the seasons changed. As she sat down she froze, horrified by her long-term thoughts. She’d been getting into the role a little too much obviously. She picked up her sandwich and took a bite.