by Rose, Karen
‘When was the last time you saw him?’ Mercy asked, still playing her part well.
‘Dunno,’ was Belinda’s reply.
‘It’s important,’ Mercy pleaded softly. ‘I think something awful happened to him. He’s never been missing for this long.’
The old woman was quiet again, then asked, ‘You got kids?’
Mercy’s hands, visible from the camera angle, clenched in Rory’s fur. ‘No. I’m . . . we . . . No. I wasn’t blessed with children.’
Rafe remembered her tortured words from the graveyard the day before. She’d been so scared he’d impregnate her, that she’d live, that she’d bring a child into Eden, a child that Ephraim would own.
I wasn’t blessed with children. Rafe wondered how hard those words had been for her to say, with such sad conviction. Mercy Callahan was the strongest woman he’d ever known.
The old woman sighed. ‘I have two sons. Two boys. Good boys.’ It was as if Belinda had drifted a bit, and was now swaying as she spoke with an odd cadence. ‘Good boys.’
‘Harry and Aubrey,’ Mercy said. ‘They are good boys.’
‘Were.’ Belinda began to rock herself. ‘Aubrey . . . he’s gone. My boy is gone.’
‘I know,’ Mercy said, reaching out to touch the woman’s arm. Just a light touch, brief, then she was back to stroking the cat’s fur. ‘It was terrible.’
Belinda stopped rocking, turning haunted eyes on Mercy. ‘My Aubrey is gone.’
In a move that surprised a gasp out of Mercy, the cat jumped from her lap to Belinda’s. Mercy started to reach for the animal, then curled her fingers into light fists and placed them on her own knees. The cat lightly head-butted Belinda’s hands, and the old woman began petting him, still rocking.
The locket she’d been holding slipped to the floor and Mercy rescued it, sliding it into her pocket.
‘My Aubrey is gone, but I didn’t use the key,’ Belinda said quietly.
What key? But Rafe didn’t ask. None of them did. They waited for Mercy and leaned closer to Hunter’s phone.
‘What key?’ Mercy asked, but Belinda wasn’t listening any longer.
‘Didn’t use the key,’ she muttered. ‘Didn’t use the key.’ Her gnarled fingers petted the cat’s fur. ‘My Aubrey is gone, but I didn’t use the key.’
‘But your other son is still alive.’ Mercy reached out again, her touch now firm as she squeezed the old woman’s arm. ‘I think he needs help. I need to find him. Tell me where to find him.’
Belinda was looking straight ahead, her eyes unfocused. ‘Two leave on foot,’ she mumbled.
Mercy’s indrawn breath was audible. ‘Two leave on foot, one strong and one bold,’ she whispered.
Belinda startled, then froze before turning her head again, slowly. Her eyes were focused now, and harder than glass. ‘What did you say?’
‘Two leave on foot, one strong and one bold,’ Mercy repeated, louder this time.
Belinda stared at her and said nothing.
Mercy cleared her throat, but instead of speaking, she began to sing, her voice shaky and slightly off-key. ‘The sun on the mountain turns everything gold.’ The tune was familiar, but Rafe couldn’t place it. ‘But night comes too swiftly, takes one in its hold.’
Exhaling on a shudder, Belinda sang the final line with Mercy. ‘And when the sun rises, only one will grow old.’
‘What is that song?’ Hunter asked Gideon.
Gideon shook his head. ‘The melody is an old hymn we used to sing in Eden, but I’ve never heard these words.’
Belinda was watching Mercy with an odd light in her cold eyes. ‘You do know him.’
‘Yes, ma’am. I do. I’m his wife.’
‘You know his song. He wrote it. For Aubrey.’
Hunter tapped his screen, changing to Liza’s camera. Now they could see both Belinda and Mercy. Mercy had grown pale, her hands trembling.
‘He sang it to me,’ Mercy said softly. ‘When I couldn’t sleep.’
Belinda stared at Mercy for a moment that seemed to stretch forever, and then she nodded. ‘My chest. Over there.’
Liza was in motion, the camera bouncing a little. ‘This chest?’ It was small, made of wood, and resembled a small treasure chest.
The lid was inlaid with bone. ‘Amos made that,’ Rafe said, and Gideon nodded his agreement.
‘That’s the only one,’ Belinda snapped.
‘It’s a very pretty treasure chest,’ Liza said, then swapped the cat for the chest, the camera bouncing once again as she crouched to put Rory back in his carrier. ‘Was it a gift from Harry?’
‘It was.’ Belinda smiled faintly as she rubbed the inlaid lid with her fingertips. ‘He made it for me with his own hands.’ She lifted the lid and a tinny melody filled the space, sending a new shiver down Rafe’s spine. It was the same melody Mercy had sung with the words of ‘his song’. Belinda drew a tray from the chest, then pulled out a key and held it up to the light from the window.
Excitement bubbled up as they watched the screen of Hunter’s phone. ‘That looks like a safe-deposit box key,’ Gideon said.
Belinda was still looking at the key in the sunlight. ‘I didn’t use the key.’
‘Then I will,’ Mercy said.
Belinda looked up sharply. ‘Why?’
Mercy didn’t flinch. ‘Because it might help me find him.’
Belinda seemed to be thinking about that, and Rafe held his breath while the old woman made her decision. Safe-deposit box keys were often significant. ‘You’ll tell him to come see me when you find him?’
‘Of course,’ Mercy assured her. ‘I promise.’
‘Then I guess it’s okay.’ She extended the key to Mercy, who took it with a quiet thank-you, slipping it into her pocket. ‘It’s only to be used in an emergency,’ Belinda added.
‘Harry’s been missing for several weeks,’ Mercy said. ‘I think this is an emergency.’
Belinda tilted her head, studying Mercy. ‘Do you have any kids?’
Blinking, Mercy opened her mouth, but Liza cut in. ‘Not yet,’ Liza said warmly. ‘But she loves children, don’t you, Miriam?’
Mercy nodded. ‘I do.’
‘I want grandkids,’ Belinda said. ‘Aubrey keeps saying he’ll give me some. Harry promised too, but Harry’s too young. He’s just a boy himself.’ She shook her head. ‘And Aubrey says he hasn’t found the right girl, that he’s not ready to settle down.’ She sighed. ‘They need to grow up, my boys. Maybe one will settle down with a nice girl. You’d like them. Both of you girls. Maybe I’ll have you over for dinner, to introduce you.’
Mercy looked startled at the shift. It was as if the woman had shut down in the present and returned to the past. Probably where everything was more comfortable.
‘We’ll tell Harry that it’s time to grow up,’ Liza said. ‘When we see him.’
‘And Aubrey,’ Belinda countered. ‘They’re good boys.’
‘Yes, they are,’ Mercy said, her smile forced. ‘I think it’s time for you to rest, Mrs Franklin.’
Belinda nodded, the movement rocking her whole body. She closed her eyes, still clutching the chest with misshapen fingers.
‘I’ll just put the chest away for you,’ Liza said softly. ‘Unless you’d like us to give it to Harry?’
Belinda smiled, her eyes closed. ‘He’s a good boy.’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ Liza said. She opened the chest, but it was empty, so she left it on Belinda’s nightstand. Toying with the pendant she wore, she looked down at it briefly, one brow raised.
‘Oh shoot. I forgot.’ Hunter picked up a small hand radio. ‘Leave it for now.’
Liza let her pendant swing back to her skin. ‘Thank you, Belinda.’
But Belinda was already asleep, snoring softly.
Mercy stood, visibly shaken. L
iza took the cat carrier, then looped her arm through Mercy’s, turning them toward the door. Her camera showed the hall as they made their way back to the front entrance.
Rafe stood, eager to get to Mercy, who looked like she would topple over at any moment. They could still hear Liza’s calm encouragements. ‘One foot in front of the other,’ Liza murmured. ‘You’re almost there. See? There’s the front door.’
Which had just opened to reveal an older man wearing a suit and a scowl.
‘Oh shit.’ Agent Simpson was out of her chair, running for her door. ‘Belinda Franklin’s doctor just walked in. We do not want him to know that Mercy was with Belinda. He’s already threatened to sue the facility if anyone else is admitted without his permission, even though he does not have the authority to approve her visitors.’
Hunter grabbed the radio. ‘Liza, get her out of the hall. Pull her into a room, the first one you come to.’
To Liza’s credit, she instantly did as she was told, the camera showing a door open, then close.
‘Can I help you?’ an old man asked, his voice quavering.
‘My friend is about to faint,’ Liza improvised. ‘Can she sit down for a moment?’
‘Of course,’ the man said. ‘Does she need some water? I have a pitcher right here.’
‘I don’t think so,’ Liza said, lowering Mercy into a chair, ‘but thank you.’
‘Yes, thank you,’ Mercy gasped. ‘Thank you. Just . . . a long day, you know?’
‘And seeing someone you love in here is often harder than you think it will be,’ he said kindly.
‘That’s the truth,’ Mercy said weakly. ‘I’m so sorry to barge in here.’
‘That’s perfectly okay. I don’t get much company, especially pretty girls like you two.’
Liza stood at Mercy’s side, so that the camera she wore around her neck captured Mercy’s profile. Mercy was smiling at the man, who wasn’t visible in the frame. ‘You’re a charmer, aren’t you?’
The man chuckled. ‘A little out of practice, but I ain’t dead yet.’
‘Always a good day when you can say that,’ Mercy said.
The door to the room opened and they could hear Agent Simpson say, ‘Oh, there you are. Your friends are waiting for you. I’ll show you the way out.’
‘Take care,’ the man called.
‘You too,’ Mercy called back.
Then the two women were running after Simpson. Rafe was out of the office like a shot, Gideon on his heels, while Tom radioed Agent Schumacher that they were on their way out and to prepare to leave quickly. They caught up to Mercy and Liza at the van. Liza was already in the back and André was helping a visibly shaken Mercy into the middle seat.
‘What happened?’ Farrah demanded from the other side of Mercy.
‘We’ll tell you when we’re on the road,’ Hunter replied, throwing himself behind the wheel and starting the van. ‘Just go to the other car, Gideon. Agent Schumacher and I will coordinate a meet when we’re away from here.’
Gideon ran to the other FBI vehicle, and twenty seconds later, they were headed out of the parking lot.
The van was silent for a long moment, and then Mercy laughed, the sound slightly manic. ‘Oh my God. Oh my God.’ She pressed the heel of her hand to her chest, then patted the cat carrier on her lap. ‘Sorry, Rory. That was intense. I hope you don’t throw up.’
‘Same here,’ Liza grumbled. ‘I feel like I did when we rode the Goliath coaster six times straight at Six Flags.’
‘That one ended poorly,’ Tom said. ‘Told you to stop after the fifth time.’
Liza fanned herself, panting. ‘Holy shit. What happened in there? Everything was fine, then we were ducking into the nearest foxhole.’
‘Belinda Franklin’s doctor came in,’ Rafe told her. ‘He doesn’t like her to have visitors and thinks her dementia’s a lot further along than Agent Simpson does.’
‘Agent Simpson was the woman who grabbed us at the end, I assume?’ Liza asked.
‘Yes,’ Rafe said. ‘But, Hunter? We need to check out that doctor. Remember we were talking about Ephraim’s glass eye? How a surgeon needed to do it? What if that guy was the doctor who did it?’
‘You’re right,’ Hunter said grimly.
‘I saw him enter,’ André said. ‘He looked angry. I wrote down license plate numbers for every vehicle that entered the lot after you guys went inside, so we have the doctor’s.’
‘Thanks,’ Tom said. ‘Can you text it to me? Once my adrenaline crashes, I might not remember.’
‘Of course,’ André said, then looked over his shoulder, concerned. ‘Are you okay, Mercy?’
Farrah cradled Mercy’s cheek in her palm. ‘You’re shaking like a leaf.’
‘I’m great, actually.’ She lifted her chin. ‘I didn’t flake out. Not a single zombie moment.’
Rafe slid his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. ‘You were amazing. And when you and Belinda sang that song . . . What was that? Did Ephraim really sing it to you?’
Mercy closed her eyes tight, her trembling growing to full-body shaking. ‘No. He sang it to his cows. I heard him sometimes.’
‘Because your house was close to the barn,’ Rafe remembered. ‘He took care of the animals.’
‘Right. He was so nice to those cows.’ She’d sobered now, her teeth chattering. ‘One time one of his wives said that she wished he was that nice to us and he threw a hammer at her head.’
Rafe knew he shouldn’t be surprised, but every new revelation was like a punch to his gut.
‘What happened to her?’ Farrah asked, taking Mercy’s hand in hers.
‘She . . .’ Mercy began to hyperventilate. ‘She died. Oh my God, Farrah, she died. My mother and I tried to take care of her, but she died.’ A sob broke loose and it was like the dam had broken. ‘Ephraim told everyone she’d fallen down, then told us if we didn’t lie for him that he’d do the same to us. So we did. We lied for him.’ Her voice broke. ‘We lied to save ourselves. What does that make me?’
‘It makes you alive,’ Farrah said fiercely.
Rafe had to take a moment to quell his rage so that he could be gentle. Sharing a quick glance with André, he could tell that Farrah’s captain was also trying to control his fury. I’m glad Gideon isn’t hearing this. His friend had barely made it through the minutes Mercy had forced herself to talk to Belinda Franklin. Rafe understood because he’d shared Gideon’s anguish. Now, hearing her brokenhearted weeping, he was at the limit of his restraint again. But he needed to keep it together. For her.
Once he felt the return of his control, Rafe pulled Mercy onto his lap, ignoring the seat belts as he held her tight. ‘Farrah’s right,’ he murmured. ‘It makes you alive to take him down now. You’re going to take him down and we’re going to help you. You aren’t alone.’ He stroked her hair, his own eyes burning. He kissed her temple. ‘You were wonderful in there, but it had to be hard to pretend like that.’
‘I wanted to hurt her,’ Mercy cried, curling her fingers into his shirt and digging into his skin. ‘I wanted to hit her and hit her. She raised him. She said he was a good boy. A good boy. He wasn’t. He was a brute. A monster. And he still is. He’s still killing people and he’s getting away with it.’
Farrah was crying now, patting Mercy’s knee helplessly. ‘He won’t. He can’t.’
Rafe’s heart was breaking. ‘He won’t get away with it, Mercy. I promise.’
Mercy said no more, just pressed her cheek into his chest and held on. And cried herself to sleep.
Twenty-five
Granite Bay, California
Tuesday, 18 April, 4.35 P.M.
Ephraim checked the photo on his phone once again, disappointed. Zoya Sokolov hadn’t exited the school along with the other students, and he’d waited for an hour after the final bell. He’d examined the faces
of every student who’d walked in or out of the doors all day long, the binoculars he’d purchased with Sean MacGuire’s credit card coming in handy as he’d parked far enough away to avoid detection.
Now a custodian was sweeping the front walk, keeping the exterior of the fancy school acceptably clean for all the rich kids who’d laughed their way from the school to the parking lot, which was like an advertisement for luxury cars. Some of the students had been picked up, some had driven themselves, but every one of the vehicles cost more than most people made in a year.
The Jeep he’d taken from the honeymooners didn’t fit in this neighborhood. He’d detached the camper, leaving it in the state park nearby, or he would have been even more obviously out of place. At least he’d washed the Just Married decorations off the Jeep’s windows, but the vehicle was too old for this fancy area.
He frowned, because the law would be searching for the Jeep once the honeymooners’ bodies were found. They hadn’t been found yet – he’d been listening to the news all day and there’d been no mention of two dead bodies turning up at a campground. Still, he’d need a replacement vehicle soon, but that wouldn’t be a problem after he got access to Eden’s offshore accounts. He’d be able to buy a fleet of fancy cars if he wanted.
Of course, to get the money he had to first get Mercy, and he was no closer to that goal than he’d been the day before.
He blew out a breath in frustration. The Sokolov kid hadn’t come to school today, and Ephraim was pretty certain that it was because Detective Sokolov was being careful with his family. Sokolov could keep his sister out of school for the foreseeable future, so Ephraim would need to find another way to lure Mercy’s detective away from her side.
He couldn’t wait them all out much longer. He’d left DJ to whisper in Pastor’s ear for too long already –
A knock on the window of the honeymooners’ Jeep had him dropping the binoculars and twisting toward the noise, earning him a bruise when the steering wheel jabbed into his side.
Fuck. Fucking hell. It was a cop. And he’d drawn his gun.
Ephraim didn’t stop to think. Didn’t stop to plan. Simply drew his own gun, shot at the cop through the window, and drove away like a bat out of hell.
