Chapter 13 MERCY

Chapter 13

MERCY

After unpacking in her motel room, Mercy opened a box of crackers, sat on the big bed with her laptop, and leaned against its headboard to work. She'd dumped the clothes she'd worn to the medical examiner's into a plastic bag and knotted it. Even though she hadn't been at the autopsies that long, the smell lingered. Her hair was still wet from the necessary shower to get the scent off her skin.

I don't know how that odor tunnels through the protective gear and into clothing.

She opened her computer. She had two goals for the evening: to call her husband, and to see what she could find about Sheriff Bree Taggert. Since Mercy would be working closely with the sheriff, she wanted to know what kind of person she was.

She propped up her cell phone on a book beside her and FaceTimed Truman. As it rang, she put the sheriff's name into a Google search.

Governor Appoints Former Philadelphia Homicide Detective to Replace Randolph County Sheriff was the first headline. Mercy's eyebrows rose, and Truman's face popped up on her cell before she could read any further.

"Hey," he said. Truman was in his office at the police department.

As usual, her stomach got little fluttery butterflies at the sight of him. Her husband was a good-looking man. Not to mention smart and kind and a hard-ass when needed as chief of police for their little city. The combination worked for her.

"What'd you find out?" he asked.

Mercy gave him a rundown of everything she'd learned that day. "I'm glad Paige wasn't one of the victims, but now I'm even more worried about her. She has to be connected to these murdered women."

"Is the sheriff helpful?"

Mercy looked at the article about Bree Taggert on her laptop. "So far she seems very competent." Scanning the story, she was surprised to learn the sheriff before Taggert had killed himself after serving for two decades. The story strongly alluded to long-term, deep-seated corruption during his time in office.

"She?" asked Truman. "The sheriff is a woman? That's impressive."

"I thought so too. She's about my age, and from what I've seen so far, she's good at the position." Her interest piqued, Mercy wanted to continue the deep dive into the sheriff's background, but instead she focused on Truman's face. "How are the kids?"

He grinned. "Ollie got sunburned real bad, which put Kaylie in I told you so mode, and he's not appreciating it. How are you liking New York?"

"The humidity is ridiculous, and they're in the middle of a heat wave. I haven't experienced this sort of weather since I was at Quantico. And the mosquitoes!" She shuddered. "I swear some are the size of hummingbirds."

"Any new leads from Detective Bolton out here?" Truman asked.

"No. Last I talked with him, he was waiting on computer forensics from Paige's laptop. The senator still wants silence about her disappearance. I can't believe the story hasn't leaked yet. It's been more than two weeks."

"You think they should go to the media to ask for sightings of Paige?"

Mercy shook her head. "I don't feel that way anymore. I'm nearly certain she's not in Oregon. I think she's in New York."

"It's a US senator's daughter. The story would be national, not local."

Mercy cringed. "Can you imagine trying to work a case with national media attention?"

"Yes," Truman stated, a wry look on his face.

"That's right. You've been there." Truman's tiny town had been overrun with national media during a past investigation. It'd made his work near impossible and threatened his sanity.

"Does the sheriff know who you're looking for?" he asked.

"Not yet." Guilt tightened her throat. "I feel horrid keeping Paige's name from her. I'd want to know who it was if I was in her shoes. I don't know how long her patience will last."

Truman glanced away from the camera. "I'll be right there," he told someone off-screen and then looked back at her. "Gotta go."

"I love you," she told him, feeling a tiny pang in her heart.

I miss him already.

"Love you too." He vanished.

Mercy turned back to her search on Sheriff Taggert, clicking on link after link as she munched on her crackers.

How did the sheriff go from Philadelphia to New York?

Reading further, she discovered Taggert had grown up in Randolph County and then returned after her sister's murder—which she solved, catching the attention of the governor. Her number of closed cases in Philadelphia was impressive. Surprise shot through Mercy as she read that Taggert was the guardian of her sister's kids.

Just like I became Kaylie's guardian when my brother was killed.

Her admiration for the sheriff grew. She read on, skimming articles about Taggert's recent cases. Mercy paused on an article, reading that Taggert's father had shot her mother when the sheriff was eight and then killed himself. The eight-year-old had called 911 and then hidden her younger siblings under the back porch. Investigators were convinced that the father would have shot the entire family if he had been able to find the children.

Jesus.

Mercy closed her laptop. She'd read enough. She set aside her crackers, her appetite gone, haunted by a vision of a young girl cowering under a porch, protecting her siblings as her father raged through their home.

She exhaled, seeing the sheriff in a new light.

I think we'll get along just fine.