Say No More

by Rose, Karen

  Rafe’s eyes were sparkling. ‘So, maybe a four-hour drive?’

  ‘Four hours and forty-four minutes.’ She drew a deep breath, trying to stay calm enough to think. ‘Can we go and ask the shop where they got the quilt?’

  He met her gaze. ‘Absolutely.’

  She laughed, feeling giddy. ‘Do we have to tell Tom Hunter?’

  ‘Do you want to?’

  She forced herself to sober, to think. ‘No. I want to check this out myself. Is that wrong?’

  He leaned over the counter to brush a kiss over her mouth. ‘No. We’ll tell him if we find something. How’s that?’

  She beamed. ‘Perfect. Feed me breakfast and I’ll change my clothes. We can be there by lunch.’

  Rafe plated the bacon. ‘We should tell Gideon, though. I don’t want to risk getting ambushed by Burton.’

  Mercy’s good mood dimmed a little bit. ‘I know you’re right, but dammit.’

  ‘I know. I’d love to have ten hours alone with you in the car, but I’m also not willing to risk your life. Also, check the weather. Lassen’s a little south of there and some of those mountain roads stay closed through June.’

  ‘Oh. I forgot about snow.’

  ‘I’ve got chains if I need them. I’ll make sure they’re in the back of my Subaru before we leave.’

  She glanced at his leg. He was leaning on his cane with one hand, the plate with bacon and pancakes in the other. ‘Can you drive?’

  ‘Yep. Left leg’s the problem. I’d offer to let you drive, but you forgot about snow.’

  ‘I’ve lived in New Orleans for eight years and we haven’t had snow in all that time. It gets chilly, but nothing a nice Irish coffee can’t fix.’

  He took the stool next to hers. ‘I’ll fill a thermos with coffee. No booze around here, though. Daisy’s eight years sober, so we all abstain. Solidarity, you know.’

  ‘Straight coffee is perfect.’ She held up her coffee cup. ‘To making Ephraim Burton pay.’

  Rafe’s expression grew grim as he touched his cup to hers. ‘To bringing the motherfucker down.’

  Mercy nodded once. ‘I’ll drink to that, too.’

  Sacramento, California

  Monday, 17 April, 7.30 A.M.

  Rafe locked his apartment door, a backpack full of supplies at his feet. He glanced up the stairs to where Mercy was changing her clothes in Sasha’s apartment, and wondered what was taking her so long.

  It had been long enough since he’d been with Bella that he’d forgotten how much time women needed to dress themselves. And he’d never really had that intimacy with Bella. Their time together had been a series of stolen moments and rushed lovemaking.

  When Mercy was ready, he was going to take his time.

  And I’m not going to think about that now. Because he had to share a vehicle with her for the next ten hours or so and he was not doing that with a hard-on.

  He busied himself in the garage, packing up the Subaru with cold-weather gear. He threw one of Sasha’s parkas in the back along with a few blankets and the tire chains. If they ended up on any of the mountain roads, his Subaru would be fine.

  Glancing at his phone, he frowned. Gideon must have still been asleep, because he hadn’t answered any of Rafe’s texts. He started to call him, when he heard voices in the foyer. Opening the door to investigate, he stopped short, surprised. ‘Erin? I thought you were going home?’

  Erin had her hand on the front doorknob and jumped at the sound of his voice. ‘Dammit, Sokolov. Don’t sneak up on me.’

  ‘I should wear a bell,’ he said placidly. ‘I thought you were going home last night. Please tell me that you didn’t sleep in your car all night.’

  Erin winced a little. ‘No, I didn’t sleep in my car last night.’ Then she hopped out of the way when the front door shoved open.

  ‘I think I should use the bathroom, too,’ Sasha said, then saw Rafe staring. ‘Shit. Why are you awake?’

  ‘Why are you awake?’ Rafe shot back.

  ‘We’re going to breakfast,’ Sasha said, more as a question than a statement. ‘We just finished a morning run. We both drank a lot of water and . . .’ She waved at nothing, but her cheeks were uncharacteristically pink.

  ‘Breakf—’ Oh. Oh. Rafe’s lips twitched. ‘Okay.’

  ‘Smart move,’ Sasha snapped. ‘Especially since Mercy didn’t come back last night.’

  ‘She fell asleep on the sofa,’ Rafe said. Not a lie.

  Sasha wasn’t buying it. ‘Why are you awake, Rafe?’

  ‘We’re going for a drive.’

  ‘Before eight a.m.,’ Erin said dryly, not even bothering to hide her suspicion. ‘Alone.’

  ‘I’m ready,’ Mercy said from the second-floor landing. ‘Sorry I took so long. Needed to give Jack and Rory some love.’ She stopped on the bottom step, eyes widening at the sight of both Sasha and Erin.

  Rafe blinked, then blinked again. She looked so different. Her hair was up in some kind of bun-thing and a pair of thick glasses dominated her face, making her green eyes look owlish. Her cheeks were hollowed out, her cheekbones too sharp. And there was a black beauty mark above her lip. He leaned forward, squinting, to be sure it was actually Mercy. She was still stunning, but not the woman with whom he’d shared pancakes and bacon. ‘What the hell did you do to your face?’

  She chuckled. ‘Just some makeup. I took out my contacts, so I could wear my glasses.’ Her smile faded. ‘It’s my best attempt at a disguise. I’m not ready to deal with the fallout from that video. Not yet.’

  His heart felt sore. ‘I get it. And I have to say, you did an amazing job. I didn’t even recognize you.’

  Erin was watching them. ‘That’s a lot of trouble for a little drive. And is that a pair of mittens in your hand?’

  Sasha pushed past Rafe, into the garage, where she stood next to the open hatch of the Subaru, hands on her hips. ‘They’re going into the mountains,’ she told Erin. ‘He’s got blankets and tire chains.’ She frowned. ‘And my parka?’

  ‘You guys planning a run for the Canadian border?’ Erin asked, not joking.

  Mercy aimed a wary glance in his direction but said nothing.

  ‘Nope.’ Rafe might have asked Erin to go with them since Gideon hadn’t answered any of his texts, but her overbearing interrogation was pissing him off. ‘Just a drive.’

  Erin nodded. ‘You can’t get out of the driveway. I’m parked across it.’

  Rafe ground his teeth. ‘Can you move your Rover? Please?’

  ‘Sure. Once I’m satisfied with an explanation that contains the actual truth.’

  Sasha returned to the foyer, holding her fist out to bump. ‘Go, girl.’

  Erin bumped it, her lips curving. ‘Well, Rafe?’

  ‘She’s really good,’ Mercy said, sinking to sit on the stairs. ‘She’s got me feeling like I’m five years old and about to be sent to the corner. You might as well tell her. I’d like to get on the road.’

  ‘To where?’ Erin asked.

  ‘Likely,’ Rafe bit out.

  Sasha frowned. ‘Likely . . . what?’

  Mercy snorted. ‘So we can avoid the “Who’s on First?” routine, we’re going to Likely, California. It’s up near the Oregon–Nevada border.’

  ‘Why?’ Erin pressed, drawing out the single syllable to at least three.

  Mercy tapped at her phone, then held it out to show Erin and Sasha. ‘This quilt. It was bought at a store north of Likely, back in October.’

  Erin took her phone and studied the photo of the quilt, then enlarged the image. And gasped softly. ‘It’s the angel with the flaming sword.’

  Sasha hung over Erin’s shoulder so that she could see. ‘Where?’

  ‘Down at the bottom.’ Erin pointed. ‘Right here in the corner.’

  ‘Oh my God. It’s like the ange
l on the locket. And Gideon’s old tattoo.’ Sasha looked from Rafe to Mercy. ‘Was this quilt made in Eden?’

  Mercy nodded. ‘By Eileen’s mother. She taught me how to quilt when I was barely old enough to hold a needle. I’d know her signature anywhere.’

  Erin scowled at Rafe. ‘You weren’t going to tell anyone?’

  ‘I was going to tell you,’ Rafe said, ‘but you got in my face and that’s not okay.’

  ‘So you’re going alone,’ Erin muttered. ‘With a fucking crazy man looking to drag you back to Eden by your hair, Mercy?’

  ‘Hey, I was going to be with her,’ Rafe protested. Yes, he’d planned to ask Gideon to go with them as backup, but Erin had crossed the line from overbearing to insulting. ‘I may limp, but I can still—’

  ‘Fucking hell, Rafe,’ Erin snarled, then snapped her mouth closed when Mercy shushed her.

  ‘Farrah’s upstairs, trying to sleep. Let’s use our inside voices.’

  Erin drew a breath and exhaled slowly. ‘Okay, this is how this will go. You can have your little drive to Likely, California. You can look like someone else, Mercy. You can shop for Eden trinkets to your heart’s content. But I will be going with you.’ She held up her hand when Rafe opened his mouth to argue. ‘It has nothing to do with your ability, Rafe. It has everything to do with being smart and not becoming a goddamn statistic. I’ll follow you up in my Rover. Sasha, you want in?’

  Sasha shrugged. ‘Sure. I have a few personal days left. I’ll take one. Just give me a few minutes to clean up and call in to work.’ She started up the stairs, patting Mercy’s shoulder in thanks when she moved over to let Sasha by. ‘You still need the bathroom, Rhee?’

  ‘Yeah.’ Erin pointed at Rafe as she passed. ‘And I need to call in too, to let them know I’m not coming in. You’d better not leave before we get back or there will be hell to pay.’

  He made a face at her back, which made Mercy chuckle. ‘I can’t leave, can I?’ he said sarcastically. ‘You’ve parked me in.’

  ‘Good job, Last Night Me,’ Erin hissed. ‘We will talk about this, Rafe. Hand to God.’

  Rafe watched them go up the stairs and had to fight not to pout like the five-year-old Mercy had mentioned. ‘Dammit. I would have asked her to go with us since I haven’t heard back from Gideon, but she’s being obnoxious.’

  ‘She cares about you,’ Mercy said quietly. ‘If Farrah were awake, she’d be doing the same thing. I sent her an email telling her where we’re going so she doesn’t worry when she wakes up.’

  Rafe sighed. ‘You’re right. I know she cares. At least she’s not riding with us. Now I’ll have that ten hours in the car with you today.’ One side of his mouth quirked up. ‘Except I feel like I’m with a stranger.’ He waggled his brows. ‘Mysterious.’

  She laughed at him. ‘Shut up.’ She came down the final few stairs, leaning up on her toes to peck his lips. ‘It’ll be fine. We can all shop and then do lunch. I bet Erin’ll be nicer if you buy her lunch.’

  ‘Maybe,’ he grumbled. ‘Let’s wait in the car. Who knows how long they’ll be?’

  She waited until they were both in the Subaru before turning to him with a grin. ‘So . . . Erin was here all night? With Sasha? That’s really sweet.’

  She looked so happy that his grumpy mood evaporated. ‘“Sweet” isn’t normally the word I would use when describing Erin, but, yeah, I have to agree.’

  She reached across the console to squeeze his hand. ‘See? It’s going to be fine.’

  Sacramento, California

  Monday, 17 April, 8.00 A.M.

  Ephraim bolted upright, swearing when the pain in his hand woke him up. He’d fallen asleep in Sean MacGuire’s Cadillac and had just smacked his hand into the steering wheel while reaching for his phone, which was making a god-awful sound. It wasn’t the melodic chimes he’d set to wake him up, but a jarring clanging that sounded like someone was banging pots together. He peered at his phone and then he really was awake, his adrenaline pumping.

  ‘Fucking hell.’ It was the tracker app. Erin Rhee’s Range Rover was on the move. Struggling to sit up, he turned on the ignition and put the car in gear, rolling a few feet before he figured out which direction he needed to go.

  Making a beeline for Sokolov’s Victorian, he slowed in time to see a red Subaru pulling out of the garage and backing out of the driveway. He shuddered out a relieved breath. Good. He wasn’t too late.

  The Subaru started up the street, away from him, and he waited to see what the Range Rover would do. He couldn’t just fly by them. That would raise all kinds of suspicions.

  Relax and breathe. He grabbed the binoculars and peered into Rhee’s vehicle. She was behind the wheel, her head barely visible. Beside her was a tall blonde with a ponytail high on her head. That would be Sasha Sokolov.

  And in the Subaru? He shifted to one side to get a better view and was finally able to relax. Rafe Sokolov was behind the wheel. A woman with black hair done up in a bun was leaning in to adjust the radio. Had to be Mercy.

  Perfect.

  The red Subaru had paused, waiting, as it turned out, for the blue Range Rover to follow. So wherever Sokolov and Mercy were going, Detective Rhee would have their backs. That wasn’t good when it came to getting Mercy alone. Incapacitating three people would be a lot harder than just one. But, if they truly were staying together, Ephraim would know exactly where they were going, which more than balanced things out.

  He had enough bullets to take all three of them down if he had to. Then he’d get Mercy and go back to Eden. Glancing at his gas gauge, he mentally thanked MacGuire for filling the tank. He wouldn’t have to stop for a long while.

  Snowbush, California

  Monday, 17 April, 12.30 P.M.

  They’d run out of conversation about half an hour back, but the silence was an easy, comfortable one. Rafe glanced over at Mercy, surprised to see her awake and alert. He’d thought she might have fallen asleep.

  He now knew all about her college major (chemistry with a master’s in cellular biology), her favorite color (green), her favorite band (Journey), and the ins and outs of her job at the NOPD crime lab. She’d talked a little about her job during the time she’d sat at his bedside back in February, so he’d known where she worked. But now he knew about the DNA testing she did, which was impressive.

  He’d told her about a few of the undercover busts he’d done and, after some cajoling, had admitted that he’d downloaded every song Taylor Swift had ever recorded.

  But one question had bugged him the entire ride and he needed to ask soon or they’d be there and no longer alone. His phone’s GPS indicated that they were less than ten minutes from the general store where Diana from Phoenix had bought the Eden quilt.

  ‘Why two months?’ he blurted, and she turned to him, eyes wide behind her glasses.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Why did you take two months’ leave?’

  ‘Oh.’ She pursed her lips. ‘Well . . .’

  She trailed off and said nothing more. Finally he prompted, ‘Well?’

  She sighed. ‘It’s embarrassing. And I’m ashamed. But it was the kick in the butt that I needed to come here and make things right with Gideon, so . . . I made a mistake at work. It was last week, on Tuesday, the day after that CNN special interview aired. I knew the program was coming, but I guess I didn’t anticipate how seeing his face on the screen would make me feel, you know?’

  His face needed no explanation. Mercy had waved off her abduction as not a big deal, seeing as she’d walked away alive and unhurt, unlike most of the serial killer’s other victims. He’d personally wondered when her mind would force her to deal with what had happened.

  ‘I think so, yeah. When I saw the man who’d murdered Bella, I just remember seeing red. I nearly botched the whole operation by going in hot and mad. Seeing that guy, knowing what he’d done .
. . it fucked with my head.’

  ‘That sounds about right,’ she said ruefully. ‘And as good a description as any. Seeing my face on the program, how scared I looked, and then they showed the tape of him dragging me from the hospital and how I just went all zombie on him.’

  ‘Like at the airport.’

  She winced. ‘Exactly. It was like it was happening all over. And nobody asked my permission to include any of those images.’

  ‘It was like being victimized again.’

  ‘Yes. But this time it was different, because I knew my co-workers would have seen it. Nobody in the lab seemed to have read the write-ups in the West Coast papers. And those who did read about it never mentioned it to my face. I got off pretty easily when I went back to work in February, after I . . . you know. Ran away from you all.’

  He held out his hand and she took it. ‘I get it, Mercy. You had a lot of processing to do.’

  ‘But I hurt you and I’m sorry.’

  He pulled their joined hands to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. ‘You can make it up to me later,’ he said lightly. ‘So you messed up at work?’

  She sighed, defeat in the sound. ‘Yeah. I let the stress get to me.’

  ‘Honey, you’re human. Most people would have buckled under that kind of stress long before you did.’

  ‘Yes, but my mistake nearly sent an innocent man to prison. I got samples mixed up.’

  ‘Shit,’ he breathed, understanding better now. ‘Was it caught in time?’

  ‘Thank goodness, yes. I caught it. And, after I fixed it, I turned myself in.’

  ‘You did? Why?’

  ‘Because it was the right thing to do. My supervisors were good about it. They told me to take the personal time and talk to a therapist, but that they do want me to come back. It was more than fair.’

  Rafe had to swallow another snarl at the thought of her going back. He wasn’t going to try to influence her either way. Not now, at least. Maybe at the end of six weeks he’d have laid a sufficient foundation to their relationship so that he could ask her to stay.