No Mercy (8 page)

I wiggled my arms and legs. Not tied up. Definitely on the ground. Not in the desert. No sand shifting beneath me, but sharp rocks and dirt with the faint odor of skunkweed.

No skunkweed in Iraq.

“Shit.” I couldn’t remember where I was.

“Hey. Take it easy.”

The male voice didn’t ring any bells. “Where am I?”

“In Clementine’s parking lot.”

Clementine’s. Things started to come back to me. Sort of. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. I came out here to take a leak and I tripped over you.” Heavy pause. “You okay?”

“I’ll be fine as long as you didn’t actually pee on me.”

He chuckled. “I didn’t.”

“Good.” I tried to sit up but didn’t quite manage it.

“Easy.” Then, “How much’ve you been drinking?”

“Not enough to make me pass out.” I made it into a sitting position and opened my eyes. My rescuer squatted down. The young hottie with the great grin who’d gallantly given up his bar stool. “Cowboy Troy?”

His white teeth lit up the night like a beacon. “
Trey
. Not Troy.”

“Well, Cowboy Trey, thanks for not leaving me out here to get run over. Although I feel like I’ve been a speed bump for a cattle truck.” I scooted back until my spine hit solid metal. I lifted my arm and touched the back of my neck. Even that little motion made me wince. Nice goose egg. No blood, though.

“Maybe I should get John-John or Muskrat. See if they can help you. I ain’t real good with first-aid stuff.”

“No.” I gripped his forearm. “John-John will freak out and blame himself.”

“Maybe he should. It ain’t right, letting a pretty woman wander out here alone at night. He don’t have the most trustworthy customers.”

“Except you, apparently.”

Trey grinned. “He should’ve asked me to escort you to your truck. It would’ve been the high point of my night.”

I blinked. “You flirting with me, Cowboy Trey?”

“Yeah. Is it getting me anywhere with you?”

I didn’t answer. I felt too crappy to flirt back.

Encouraged, he scooted closer. He plucked a piece of dried grass out of one of my braids. “You’re in no shape to drive home, Mercy.” Trey stood, stuck his hands out, and jerked me to my feet.

The second I was vertical…
hello, vertigo.
I fell right into him.

“Come on. My rig is over here. I’ll take you home.”

“You know where I live?”

“Everyone knows where you live.”

I frowned at his odd comment. He helped me into the passenger’s side of his truck.

Next thing I knew, Trey shook me awake. I sat up, as stiff as if I’d suddenly developed arthritis. Even after a short nap my head felt like a cannonball teetering on my shoulders. I squinted at the darkened windows of the kitchen. Would it have killed Sophie to leave a light on?

On the porch, Trey said, “Key for the door?”

I snorted. “Please. Like everybody else in this county, we don’t lock the door.”

“Makes it easy. Whoa. Steady. Where is your room?”

“Upstairs. The one in the far left corner.”

“I’d offer to carry you—”

“Not necessary.”

We trudged up the stairs, Trey following behind me in case I fell backward. I insisted on stopping in the bathroom first, where I downed two codeine-laced Tylenol I’d hoarded for emergencies. With the way my head screamed, this qualified.

I stretched out on the bed. The last thing I remembered was giggling as Trey pulled off my boots.

Holy cow. A muscled back and an excellent backside were inches from my face. The second I saw those lean hips swivel, my eyes snapped shut. As much as I wanted to see the front side of his body, I was too embarrassed to look.

“Mercy? You awake?”

I groaned. What had I done last night? I rolled over. Looked down at what I was almost wearing: a white lace camisole that doubled as a bra and my bikini panties with big red lips and the words
kiss my ass
printed everywhere. “What time is it?”

“Almost eight.”

Clothes rustled. I peeked over to see Trey sliding wrinkled jeans over his smoothly muscled naked ass. “At the risk of sounding like an idiot, what happened last night after we came up here?”

“My ego is crushed you don’t remember.”

I think I stopped breathing.

“Just kidding.” He gave me the million-dollar smile that’d so thoroughly charmed me last night before I’d knocked back a hundred shots. “Nothing happened. You undressed yourself to what you’re wearing now. I bunked down with you because you were really out of it.”

Passed out next to a strange man. In my own bed. Yeah, I’d taken stupidity to a whole new level. I kept it light; wasn’t his fault I was an idiot. “Sorry you had to babysit me.”

“It’s all right. Wish it’d turned out different. Maybe next time it will.”

Flattering, that he wasn’t scared off by my haggard morning appearance. So why in the light of day did his megawatt smile seem forced?

“You want me to run you back to Clementine’s so you can get your truck?”

“If it’s not too much trouble. Let me hop in the shower first. I’ll meet you downstairs.” I snagged my robe and made a beeline for the bathroom.

Clean, dressed, and in need of caffeine, I was in fairly decent spirits considering the knot throbbing on the back of my neck and a hangover… until I realized I’d sent Trey downstairs without warning him about Sophie.

Crap. I wouldn’t have put it past Sophie to whack him over the head with the cast-iron frying pan and tie him up with the clothesline cord before asking questions.

But the kitchen was empty. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air. I’d sort of expected Trey to be sitting at the table, patiently waiting for me. I peeked into the living room.

The toilet flushed, the old pipes rattled, and the bathroom door creaked open. Sophie stepped out in a cloud of rose-scented air freshener and frowned at me. “What?”

“Ah. Have you seen—”

“If you’re looking for that young feller, I think he’s out by the barn.”

I refused to blush. Dammit. I was a thirty-eight-year-old woman. This was
my
house. I would not feel guilty for having an overnight male guest in my own house. I blurted, “Nothing happened.”

She rolled her eyes, clucked her tongue, and shuffled to the sun porch.

Back in the kitchen, the screen door slammed as I filled my coffee cup. I turned around as Trey trooped into the kitchen with Sheriff Dawson trailing behind him.

I managed not to choke on the hot liquid. What was Dawson doing here at eight thirty in the morning?

“Good. The coffee’s done.” Trey sauntered over, snagged a cup from the rack, and poured, acting like he’d been in my kitchen dozens of times. He glanced over at Dawson. “Sheriff?”

“No,” Dawson said curtly. “I didn’t come here to drink coffee.”

“So why
did
you darken my doorstep this morning?”

His hard gaze zoomed from me, to Trey, and back to me. “Because when I drove past Clementine’s this morning, I noticed your truck was still in the parking lot. I wanted to make sure everything was all right and you made it home okay.”

Trey and I exchanged a quick look. I didn’t give a crap if Dawson misread it. “Thanks for your concern, but as you can see I’m fine.”

When Dawson continued to stare, I bristled. “Is there something else you need, Sheriff?”

“The other reason I stopped by was to ask you some questions about what we talked about last night.”

“Refresh my memory. Some things from last night are a little fuzzy.” I smiled coyly at Trey. I didn’t care if Dawson misread that look either. “And some things not so much.”

“Fuzzy from too much to drink?”

“No, fuzzy from someone smacking me in the back of the head with a tire iron.”

Dawson was by my side in two steps. “Where were you hit?”

“Forget it.”

“Like hell. Where?”

“On the left side of my neck.”

“Let me see.”

The words
fuck off
danced on the end of my tongue. I bit them back and angled my neck so he could look.

Dawson’s dry fingers lightly traced the swollen spot. I withheld a shiver at his touch. “Did someone look at this?”

“No.”

“When did it happen?”

“About half an hour after you went into the back room.”

“Why didn’t you report this?” Dawson’s gaze lasered into me. “I was right there in the bar.”

“After you made a big point of telling me you were off duty?”

His mouth tightened. “I’m on duty now.”

“I’ll go get the truck ready,” Trey said, and vanished.

What a little chickenshit.

Dawson pointed to a chair. “Park it. I want to talk to you.”

I sat.

“Last night you talked about digging for answers in the Yellow Boy case. I’m here to ask you to stay out of it.”

“Why?”

“A number of reasons.”

“Give me two.”

“First off, I’m not convinced this is a homicide. The county coroner’s report was inconclusive as to the nature of death. But she’s tagging it as accidental.”

“That’s one.”

“Two, if I do suspect foul play, as you so eloquently phrased it last week, I can’t have you running around spooking people before I get a chance to talk to them.”

“You’ve had time. My understanding is you haven’t contacted any of the people who might know anything about why Albert ran away.”

“Who told you that? Estelle?”

I nodded.

“Mercy. Think about it.” Dawson angled forward, the picture of sincerity. “Nothing I do is enough. Albert was her child. She wants this case solved yesterday. She doesn’t realize things don’t happen overnight or like it does on TV.”

“So you
are
working on Albert’s case?”

“Yes. Just because I have other daily duties occupying my time doesn’t mean I’ve blown the case off.” He frowned. “There’s some funky things happening around here. Things that don’t fit. But it’s nothing I can share with Estelle at this point.”

“Why not? God, Dawson, give her something. Some hope that whatever secret thing you’re working on might eventually lead you to why Albert is dead.”

He didn’t say a word. Which in my mind meant everything he’d just said was a bunch of hogwash. I stood. “Fine. I’ll tell her you’re doing your best and she shouldn’t worry.”

“And you’ll stay out of it?”

I smiled at Trey through the screen door. “Come on, cowboy. We got places to be.”

A chair scraped. Dawson loomed over me. “I mean it. There are plenty of other things to keep you busy without messing in my business.”

“Like what?” If he suggested joining a quilting club, I’d club him.

“Like have you made a decision on whether you’re selling this ranch?”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Gee, Sheriff, the way you keep bringing it up makes me think you might have designs on it yourself.”

“I don’t. But some folks around here do.” He dropped his guarded expression for a second. “That knot on your neck wasn’t an accident.”

His words sent goose bumps across my flesh. I looked at Trey. He had the oddest expression on his face. Probably he was as confused by this cryptic conversation as I was.

We left, and I didn’t look to see if Dawson followed.

I should’ve let it slide. Instead, I spun the chair around and straddled it. “Tell you what. If you dish the dirt on the guy Theo, who’s been warming
your
bed, I’ll return the favor.”

Her face went as milky white as the tea in her cup.

“Didn’t think I knew, did you? How long before you planned to tell me?”

“Mercy, be nice,” Sophie warned.

I ignored her. “When you bringing him by so I can meet this great new love of your life?”

“See? That’s why I didn’t tell you. Because you’d get all sarcastic and mean.”

Sophie patted Hope’s hand and murmured to her, her shiny black eyes shot deadly daggers at me.

My focus shifted to a bottle of pills in the middle of the table. Thank God. A jumbo container of aspirin. Just what I needed to stop the throbbing pain in my head.

“Hey! Gimme that! It’s mine!” Hope said, trying to snatch the bottle from me.

“Relax. I’m just gonna borrow a couple.”

“You can’t. It’s private!”

Private aspirin? I turned the bottle in my hands to the read the contents. A prescription. In the name Hope Arpel. For prenatal vitamins. Prescribed by Doc Canaday.

Two months ago.

My mouth dropped open. “You’re pregnant?”

She wouldn’t look at me. Sophie suddenly seemed mighty interested in the cow and chicken wallpaper border above the refrigerator.

Stay calm.
“That is why you’ve been so sick? And you didn’t think I deserved to know? Instead, you let me worry because no one could figure out what was wrong with you?”

“It’s not your job to worry about me. I’ve been doing just fine without you.” Her self-righteousness vanished, and her chin wobbled. “I knew you’d come back and take over everything.”

“Someone had to.”

“This baby’s got nothing to do with you and is none of your business.”

“Wrong. As Dad made me executor of his estate,
everything
that happens within this family or on this ranch is my business.”

No smart answer from Hope.

“How far along are you?”

She and Sophie exchanged another look.

“Tell me, goddammit.”

“Stop swearing at her,” Sophie said sharply.

“I will when she answers the question.”

“Three months or so.”

My mind whirled. “Did Dad know?”

Hope shook her head.

“This Theo guy is the father?”

She glared at me.

“Am I the only person who doesn’t know?”

“No. She didn’t bother to tell me neither.” Levi was sagged against the doorjamb separating the kitchen from the living room.

My anger escalated at the hurt look on his face. Damn my selfish sister.

“Levi, honey, I can explain—”

“Save it, Ma. Aunt Mercy is right. She ain’t the only one who’s been worried about you. But like usual, you don’t care about nobody but yourself.”

“That’s not fair!”

“You know what ain’t fair? If you think I’m gonna be your built-in babysitter once that brat is born. I won’t stick around. You can’t make me. You probably wouldn’t notice if I was gone anyway. But I can guarantee you Theo ain’t gonna be changing diapers. He’ll expect you to do it since he follows the ‘traditional’ ways of the Indian, the separation of men’s and women’s duties within the tribe and home.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yeah, I do. I take his culture class; you don’t. And he’s a different person around me than he is around you.”

Sophie tried mediating. “Why don’t we all just calm down and talk about this, eh?”

“Screw that. I’m outta here.” Levi stormed out before anyone could stop him.

Hope jumped to her feet. I blocked the door. “Let him go.”

“No. I have to explain.”

“You should’ve explained long before now.”

She blinked back tears.

I hated it when she cried, but I steeled my resolve not to let her off the hook this time. “Give him some time to sort through this. He’s hurt, and he has a right to be upset.”

“But I need to talk to him!”

“No, you need time to figure out why you kept something this important from him.
He
is your family.
I
am your family. What were you thinking, shutting us out?”

Her eyes thinned to malicious slits. “You don’t have kids and you haven’t been around him, so what makes you think you know anything about how he’s feeling, huh?”

“It’s obvious he’s pissed off at you. And how do I know that? Because you’ve pissed me off more times than I can count,
sis
. So leave him alone. You’d better figure out a way to make this right with him, because he sure as hell deserves better than you’ve given him lately. And so do I.”

I slammed the door with enough force the screen popped out and bounced off the porch slats. I didn’t care. It would still be there when I returned, just another damn thing in my life I’d have to fix.