Say No More

by Rose, Karen

  ‘How did DJ get a tracker on Ephraim’s vehicle?’ Mercy asked. ‘And how did he get an Escalade?’

  Gideon sighed. ‘The Escalade belonged to Belinda Franklin’s doctor. Police found him dead in his home. Broken neck, same as Ephraim’s other victims. Ephraim’s prints were on a coffee cup in the doctor’s house, so he was definitely there, but we don’t yet know how DJ connects.’

  Mercy couldn’t think about how close they’d come to losing Farrah, André, and Damien, so she shoved that fear into the box, too. Hammered the lid. Focus on facts, not fear. ‘But that means DJ knew Ephraim would be visiting the doctor at his home.’

  ‘We recovered the doctor’s cell phone,’ Gideon said. ‘It’ll take a little time to unlock it, but we’ve got software to do the job. We’ll figure out who called him and when.’

  ‘What about the safe-deposit box?’ Mercy asked. ‘The key I got from Ephraim’s mother.’

  Gideon’s grin was feral. ‘We got the warrant and will be opening the box first thing in the morning. I’ll let you know as soon as one of them tells me what’s in it.’ His grin became a scowl. ‘I’m officially not permitted to even be in the room when they search the contents of the safe-deposit box. I’m too close to the case. Had to recuse myself. Again.’

  ‘So what will you do?’ Rafe asked. ‘Go back to work and try to find someone to leak you info?’

  ‘Yes,’ Gideon said simply, then smiled when Rafe snorted. ‘Seriously, someone will give me the basics on what they find. In the meantime, I’m going back to my normal job, translating chatter, but I’ll keep my ears open for mentions of psilocybin sales.’

  Mercy leaned forward in her chair to lightly clasp Amos’s hand. ‘Thanks for that tip, Amos. We owe you one for that.’

  ‘Yeah, thank you,’ Gideon said gruffly. ‘And I’m sorry that I thought you killed Ephraim.’ He sighed heavily. ‘And thank you for saving Mercy. For that I owe you everything.’

  Mercy rested her head on Gideon’s upper arm. ‘I owe everybody,’ she said lightly, ‘because all of you have saved me at least once.’

  Rafe met her eyes across Amos’s bed and gave her a slow wink. ‘Worth it.’

  Gideon hesitated, then hugged Mercy to his side, hard enough to make her wince. ‘Worth it,’ he whispered. ‘I’m so damn glad you’re here.’ He cleared his throat. ‘You too, Amos. I’m glad you left Eden. I’m glad you got Abigail out. I’m glad you’re with us. So . . . don’t go anywhere, okay? And, just so you know, we will make sure Abigail is safe and cared for until you get out of here.’

  Mercy leaned up to kiss Gideon’s cheek. ‘That was sweet.’

  Gideon tightened his hold on Mercy until she let out a little yelp, then abruptly let her go, looking a little embarrassed. ‘I’m sorry. You two should get some sleep. Like in a real bed, not in hospital chairs. I’m headed out now. You should, too. Rafe’s place is less than ten minutes from here. If Amos wakes up, they’ll call you.’

  Mercy stroked Amos’s hand lightly. ‘I don’t want him to wake up alone.’

  ‘But if you get sick because you’re not sleeping, the ICU won’t let you in at all,’ Rafe commented.

  Gideon gave him a less than discreet thumbs-up. ‘Good point. Mercy?’

  Mercy rose reluctantly. Rafe really did need to sleep in a real bed. ‘All right. But if the nurses call, you have to agree to bring me back, even if you were sleeping. Unless you’re okay with me taking an Uber.’ Because the only car they actually had left at this point was Sasha’s Mini. All of their other vehicles had been taken into evidence or destroyed by Ephraim. They’d get Rafe’s Subaru and Gideon’s Suburban back in a few days, but for now they were dependent on others. Considering the DJ threat, it would probably be the FBI they depended on for a little while longer at least. The Uber was really a joke.

  By the way both Gideon and Rafe glared at her, they didn’t think the joke was very funny.

  ‘No Uber,’ Rafe said, grabbing the aluminum cane he was using once again, his second wooden cane having been taken as evidence. ‘But I will wake up to come with you, however we get here.’

  Mercy leaned over the bed rail and pressed a kiss to Amos’s forehead. ‘Wake up soon, Papa,’ she said softly. ‘Abigail needs you. So do I.’

  Gideon brushed a hand over Mercy’s hair. ‘Daisy’s with Molina. I’ll get her, then we can go.’

  Sacramento, California

  Thursday, 20 April, 1.40 A.M.

  Mercy hung her coat in Rafe’s closet wearily. Molina’s temporary replacement had arranged protection for them, but it had taken the agent a while to arrive. Now he sat outside on the curb, keeping watch. Because of fucking DJ.

  Mercy still couldn’t think of DJ Belmont or she might shatter into a million little pieces. Instead she focused on the small things that she could control. ‘I want to eat your mother’s food. And then I want a long hot shower with soap that doesn’t smell like a hospital, and then I want to sleep for two or three days.’

  Rafe dropped onto the sofa, pale with exhaustion. ‘I like that plan. I’ll microwave the leftovers.’

  ‘No, you stay put. I’ll stick a casserole in the oven and then I need to wash my hair again.’

  His grimace said that he understood. Rafe’s sister Meg had been their savior, stopping by Rafe’s to get them clean clothes while they’d waited in the hospital. The hospital had allowed them to shower because they’d all been wearing some of Ephraim’s brain matter. Mercy was overjoyed that Ephraim was dead, she just wished that it had been less . . . nauseating.

  Mercy picked a casserole from the fridge at random and put it in the oven, hoping her appetite would hold steady. It had been iffy all evening, plummeting every time she remembered the sight of Ephraim’s body.

  Poor Farrah. They’d had to stop the SUV several times on the way back to Sacramento so that she could throw up, a combination of the trauma of being kidnapped and held at gunpoint and, of course, witnessing Ephraim’s grisly end.

  And me? Mercy turned on the shower and took off her clothing. The police had taken the clothes she’d worn upstate, which was fine. She’d never wear them again. If she ever got them back, maybe she’d burn them in some kind of cleansing ritual.

  Ephraim was dead. And I’m not sorry.

  She’d nearly killed him herself. And I’m not sorry.

  Maybe she should be. But I’m not.

  She got under the shower spray, shivering when the warm water hit her skin. She’d been so cold. So damn cold. And tired.

  And scared.

  ‘I’m still scared,’ she said quietly.

  ‘Me too.’ The shower door opened, and then Rafe was staring at her like he’d never seen her before. ‘Is it too pushy to ask if I can join you?’

  ‘No,’ she whispered, then repeated it louder when he didn’t hear her. ‘No. The water’s nice.’

  Rafe’s clothes went into a pile next to hers. ‘The hot water helps my leg.’

  ‘Then I’ll give you the spray.’ She moved out of his way, but he was having none of that.

  Leaning against the shower wall, he pulled her into his arms and buried his face against her neck. ‘I don’t even know how to feel,’ he said quietly.

  She flattened her palms against the muscles of his back, sweeping up and down, just needing to touch him. That they were wet and naked and that he had the hottest body she’d ever seen was really . . . secondary. ‘Me either. I’m scared. And sad. And furious.’ For a moment they stood there, saying nothing, and then she sighed. ‘What if Amos doesn’t wake up?’

  ‘He will,’ Rafe said stubbornly. ‘He’ll fight to come back to Abigail. And to you and Gideon.’

  ‘If,’ she whispered. ‘The doctors said “if” he woke up. If he doesn’t, who will take care of Abigail?’

  ‘My mom will,’ Rafe said without hesitation.

  ‘Or . . .
I could.’

  He pulled back enough to see her face, turning them around so that his back blocked the spray from hitting her face. ‘You could,’ he said, pushing the hair out of her eyes. ‘Do you want to?’

  She nodded. She’d been thinking about Abigail the entire time that Molina’s replacement had been scolding them. ‘I do. I mean, I know what Abigail has heard her whole life. I know what she’ll be facing, relearning . . . And she’s not blood, but she’s still my sister.’

  His lips curved. ‘And you said you didn’t know how to do relationships.’

  She didn’t smile back. ‘I don’t. That’s why I’m scared.’

  ‘Mom does. I do. You’ll have a lot of help.’ He stopped talking then, pursing his lips.

  ‘What?’

  He reached for a bottle of shampoo that Daisy had left behind and started lathering her hair, making her hum contentedly.

  ‘This must be how Rory and Jack-Jack feel when I pet them,’ she murmured. She leaned her forehead against his chest, closing her eyes to fully enjoy the feel of his hands in her hair, massaging her scalp. ‘You should charge for shampoos. You’d have a line out the door.’

  ‘Nah. Unless you’re okay with other people seeing me naked.’

  She jerked her gaze to his, then flinched when soap got in her eyes. Irritated, she wiped it away. ‘Um, no. I find that I’m adamantly opposed to anyone seeing you naked.’ She hummed again when he turned them around to rinse the shampoo from her hair, because he covered her eyes. Like her mama had done.

  No one had taken care of her like this since she was a little girl, too young to truly appreciate how special it was.

  She smiled up at him when he put the conditioner in her hair. ‘You’re good at this.’

  ‘I’ve never done this for anyone before,’ he admitted.

  ‘That makes me even luckier. Going back to my question before you tried to distract me with scalp massages – what? You said I’d have a lot of help, then looked like you’d sucked a lemon.’

  He sighed, shampooing his hair in about ten seconds. ‘You’d have help from us. But we’re here.’

  ‘Oh.’ Now she got it. ‘The Romeros would love her, too. And they love me.’

  He kissed her forehead. ‘Maybe you’re borrowing trouble. Amos will wake up.’

  ‘But even then, I wouldn’t see Abigail grow up.’ If I go back. After the last few days, she wasn’t so certain.

  ‘But you have all your siblings’ kids when you go back to New Orleans.’ His smile was lopsided and sad. ‘It’ll be a hard choice.’

  No, not really, she thought. Because Rafe would be here. ‘I have a plan.’

  He kissed her. ‘What’s your plan?’

  ‘The Romeros have moved Quill’s life celebration to Sunday afternoon. I’ll go back to New Orleans for that and I’ll pack a few things while I’m there, then I’ll come back here for the rest of my leave. I have to get therapy as a condition of my return, but I could do that here, too. Let’s take these seven and a half weeks and then . . .’ She shrugged. ‘Then we can see.’

  He swallowed, his brown eyes filled with a mix of longing and hope that stole her breath. ‘You’re considering staying? Even after?’

  ‘Yes. I’m not stupid, Raphael Sokolov. What you and I have here is something special. Gideon is here and now Amos. I love my families in New Orleans, but Gideon, Amos, and I – and now Abigail – we have history. Shared memories. And then there’s you.’

  ‘Then there’s me.’ His brows lifted. ‘What will you do about me?’

  She laughed. ‘That is a leading question, Detective Sokolov. Give me some time, I’ll make you a list. But for now? I want to go to bed with you and make you forget about this day for a little while. Is that okay?’

  ‘More than okay.’

  He kissed her again, long and sweet. ‘I’ll go to New Orleans with you, if you want. For Quill’s celebration.’

  ‘You’d do that for me?’

  ‘Not much I wouldn’t do for you,’ he said lightly, but the intensity in his eyes spoke differently. ‘I’ll still be on DB for the next two months at least. We can take all the time we need to figure this out.’ He hesitated, then shifted his weight so that his injured leg was in the hot spray. ‘I might not be a detective anymore.’

  She wanted to apologize, but bit the words back. That wasn’t what he needed. She kissed his chin, then rose on her toes to kiss his mouth. ‘I know. Maybe we can figure out some other options for you, just in case. You know . . . together.’

  It was the right thing to say, because he sagged against the tile, his eyes closing, relief stamped on his handsome face. ‘Yeah.’ He swallowed hard. ‘Together. I like that.’ He reached behind her to turn off the water.

  ‘Hey,’ she protested. ‘I wasn’t done.’

  ‘We would have been standing in ice water in about four seconds.’

  ‘Oh. Good to know. You know, for that list I’ll be making for all the things I want to do with you. Long showers probably won’t be on it.’ She opened the shower door and grabbed two towels from the rack. ‘Dry off and get into bed. I’ll get us food. And then we sleep. There will be time to start worrying about everything when we wake up.’

  Sacramento, California

  Thursday, 20 April, 12.15 P.M.

  Reality intruded sometime after noon, with a loud knocking on the door. Rafe lifted his head from the pillow with a groan. He was already awake and contemplating waking Mercy the way she’d woken him before dawn – by kissing every inch of her body. He did not want to entertain any visitors.

  Curled up against him, Mercy stirred. ‘What is it?’

  He scowled. ‘Somebody’s at the door.’

  The knocking started again. ‘Open up, Rafe!’

  He groaned again. ‘It’s Sasha.’

  ‘I brought food!’ she hollered. ‘Oh, hi, Gideon,’ she said loudly enough for them to hear. ‘I brought enough for everyone, but brother dear won’t open the door. I’ve got a key, Rafe!’

  ‘Don’t you dare!’ Rafe shouted back. ‘Give me a minute.’

  Mercy sat up in the bed, beautifully naked, which Rafe loved. But her hair was going every which direction. Rafe thought it was damn adorable but somehow he knew that she wouldn’t agree, so he kept that thought to himself.

  ‘I’ll get it,’ she said, treating him to a wonderful view when she bent over her suitcase to pull out clean clothes.

  ‘Sasha spoils everything,’ he muttered, making Mercy laugh.

  ‘She did bring food.’ In less than thirty seconds Mercy had covered all that pretty naked skin with jeans and a turtleneck sweater. ‘Coming, Sasha,’ she called when Sasha started knocking again. She threw Rafe a pair of sweats and pulled the silk screen so that he had some privacy.

  ‘Hey, Mercy? You should check a mirror before you open the door.’

  A muted shriek met his ears. Mercy marched back to her bag, glared at him, found a brush, and dragged it through her hair, muttering about going to bed with wet hair. Then she opened the door. ‘Sasha,’ she said in a singsong.

  ‘Mercy,’ Sasha sang back. ‘Is he decent?’

  ‘Not remotely,’ Rafe called from the bed, struggling with the sweats. But he could smell chicken and waffles and his stomach growled. He looked at his chest and decided a shirt would be a good idea. He was pretty sure that Mercy wouldn’t appreciate him showing off the line of small bruises she’d left while kissing down his chest during the night.

  That had been a pleasant way to wake up and he’d had plans for more of the same. And then Sasha showed up.

  He put on a T-shirt, grappled for the cane that had rolled out of reach, then rounded the silk screen to find that Gideon and Daisy had joined them. Mercy was setting the small dinette and Sasha was unpacking the food she’d brought. It was a tight fit with just the five of them.


  Rafe added finding a larger place without stairs to his mental to-do list. Right after brainstorming new careers.

  It should have felt really shitty, but as he watched Mercy moving around his little kitchen like she belonged there . . . She’d said that she’d consider staying. That we’re special.

  Suddenly the thought of changing careers was much less terrifying than it had been yesterday.

  ‘How’s the leg?’ Gideon asked.

  Rafe shrugged as he lowered himself into the dinette chair. ‘Hurts. I need to make an appointment with my doctor. And I’ve got Cash this afternoon. I missed two appointments this week, so it was going to hurt a little anyway.’

  Mercy’s mouth opened and Rafe pointed to her. ‘Do not say you’re sorry,’ he said. ‘That I forgot about my appointment so that we could go to Snowbush had nothing to do with you, and there was no way I was going to go to therapy yesterday with all that happened. Now, what are you feeding me, Sasha?’

  ‘Chicken and waffles from the Forty-niner Diner,’ Sasha said.

  ‘My favorite,’ Daisy said, digging in. ‘What?’ she asked, when the rest of them snickered. ‘I’ve been up since five and already had my workday while you guys were snoring.’ She lifted a brow at Rafe. ‘Or something.’

  Gideon winced. ‘Can we not go there?’

  Mercy laughed. ‘Fine.’ She quickly checked her phone, her smile fading. Which meant either no news about Amos or bad news.

  ‘Well?’ Rafe asked.

  ‘No news at all,’ Mercy said. ‘I’m going to call the hospital really quickly, just in case he’s awake and they’re too busy to text me.’ She dropped a kiss on Rafe’s cheek and went into the hall to call.

  Gideon watched her go. ‘Part of me doesn’t want her to go near the door, with that stained glass. It’s not bullet-resistant. But that’s overbearing, right?’

  Daisy chuckled. ‘Right,’ she said around a mouthful of chicken. ‘Especially since there’s a Fed on the curb. Where are Farrah and André?’

  ‘At Mom’s,’ Rafe said. ‘Mom wanted to keep an eye on them until the sedative was all out of André’s system. They’ll be coming back here later to pack.’