A Merciful Fate

THIRTY-EIGHT

The sky was just starting to darken as the group headed home. Knowing Rose was in labor made Mercy want to gallop her horse back.

But she stayed with the group.

They agreed to ride back to Bree’s farm. Her barn had room for the two extra horses until Karl could come get them. Truman drove the ATV with Trevor cuffed behind him, and Samuel led Truman’s horse. Trevor mouthed off several times. Truman finally threatened to tie him over a horse on his stomach, and he stayed quiet after that.

Mercy checked for cell phone reception two dozen times.

They were nearly to Bree’s when she finally reached Pearl on the phone. She pelted her sister with a dozen questions.

“Slow down,” Pearl ordered. “I can’t answer everything at once. Kaylie’s resting comfortably. The doctors are breathing a little easier because it’s been twenty-four hours without a sign of infection.”

Relief swamped Mercy.

“She’s complaining that she can’t see Rose even though they’re in the same hospital,” said Pearl.

Mercy couldn’t help but smile. That’s my girl. A good sign that Kaylie was on the mend.

“And Rose?” Mercy held her breath.

“She had a C-section. They couldn’t turn the baby. The doctor preferred the surgery instead of attempting a vaginal birth, and Rose didn’t have strength left for any kind of birth. The flu was really hard on her.”

“Is the baby at risk from the flu?” Mercy whispered.

“They talked about separating Rose from the baby—”

“Oh no,” Mercy gasped.

“But Rose’s fever has been under control, and her lungs are clear. They don’t believe she’s contagious any longer, just wiped out and dehydrated, so they’ll let the baby be with her if she wears a mask and washes her hands nonstop.”

“When can we see her?”

“She’s in recovery right now. Nick said she’ll be in her room in about an hour.”

“What did she have?” Mercy blurted.

Pearl laughed. “I wondered when you would ask. She had a boy, but I’ll let Rose tell you the name when you see her.”

“Ohhh. Darn you! That’s going to drive me nuts.”

“Dad said Truman was worried you were in some sort of danger,” Pearl stated with a question in her tone.

“It’s all good,” Mercy said, too tired to tell the story. “We’ll be at the hospital in a few hours. Tell Rose we’re coming.”

“She asked about you several times while she was in labor.”

Guilt punched her in the chest. “I promised her I’d be there,” Mercy said. “I told her she could count on me if no one else was available, and I let her down.”

Pearl snorted. “Well, everyone was available except for you. I’d say you’re off the hook.”

“I wanted to be there,” she said softly.

“We’ve been sitting in a waiting room for hours. No one was allowed in the surgery but Nick. You haven’t missed anything.”

The words didn’t comfort her.

It was midnight when Mercy and Truman finally reached the hospital.

Truman sent a text to Nick, who replied that they were currently awake, and then met them at the nurses’ station to okay their visit. The tall man looked exhausted but ecstatic. Even though Nick had spent hours at the hospital and probably been sanitized from head to toe, Mercy smelled his usual scent of fresh-cut lumber. She and Truman followed him through security doors and down a hallway. Outside Rose’s door, he pointed at the hand sanitizer on the wall, and both cleaned their hands. The lights were low as they entered Rose’s room, and she turned her face toward Mercy.

A God-size punch hit Mercy in the chest at the sight of Rose sitting in bed holding her baby.

She’s beautiful.

The few lights illuminated the head of Rose’s bed, giving her a Madonna-like presence.

“Mercy?” she asked, her voice muffled behind her mask.

“Yes.” Mercy was at her side in a split second, all eyes for the baby. The round head was so tiny, the nose and lips perfectly shaped, the closed eyelids nearly translucent. “Oh, Rose. He’s lovely.”

“I can’t stop touching his hair.” Rose softly stroked the dark fluff. “I can’t believe he’s really here.”

“Pearl wouldn’t tell me his name.”

“Henry Levi.”

Tears burned in Mercy’s eyes. Her brothers. One who had died at birth and another who had died the previous year. She couldn’t speak.

“Would you like to hold him?” Rose lifted him away from her chest.

Mercy took the tiny bundle, amazed at how light he was. Dulce weighed more. “Is . . . is he healthy?”

“Yes. Even though he’s a month early the doctor is pleased with his development. We shouldn’t be in the hospital any longer than normal.”

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here, Rose. I know I promised—”

Rose waved a hand, dismissing her words. “Besides Nick, five different people offered to take me to the hospital. Everything was fine. Dad said you were on a job without cell service.”

That is true. “Yes.”

“He sounded worried.” Her tone was inquisitive.

Dad . . . worried about me? “Everything turned out fine. I’ll tell you the whole story tomorrow.” Mercy changed the subject. “How are you feeling?”

“Very floaty. I don’t know if it’s the medication or Henry.” Her voice took on a dreamy tone. “Mercy . . . It’s like . . . a brand-new piece of my heart suddenly woke up. A huge section brimming with energy and soul-deep love. I can’t explain it.”

Truman came beside her. “Nice job, Rose.” He gently touched a tiny clenched fist and looked at Mercy with a passionate fierceness she felt to her bones. The tiny boy had stirred something inside him.

He held her gaze for a long moment, keeping her speechless, before turning to Nick.

“Congratulations, Nick.” Truman shook the tall man’s hand and slapped him on the shoulder.

“The wedding is next,” Nick stated.

Rose laughed. “He wanted to get married tomorrow, but Mom and I insist on a real wedding.”

Nick looked abashed. “I’m willing to wait two months. Deborah claims she and Pearl can pull a wedding together by then.”

“I’ll help,” Mercy said, her gaze back on the tiny human in her arms.

“How about you two?” Nick asked. “You pick a date yet?”

She exchanged a glance with Truman. They’d purposefully not announced a date, wanting to know Rose and Nick’s plans first. “We decided on December.”

“Definitely,” added Truman, meeting her eyes.

He’s still looking at me as if I’m his dinner . . . or dessert.

She handed the baby back to Rose. Without him, her arms felt weightless. How did such a small bundle do that? “We’ll be back tomorrow, Rose.” She kissed the top of her sister’s head and gave Nick a hug. His smile had stretched from ear to ear their entire visit.

She wasn’t sure who was luckier. He or Rose.

Outside Rose’s door, Mercy nearly sat on the floor as exhaustion slammed into her.

“Home?” asked Truman.

“Kaylie.”

“A short visit. Then home. You can see Bree tomorrow.”

“I plan on it.”

The next day brought two surprises for Mercy.

First she received word that Bree was conscious and talking.

Surprise number two was in her office when she arrived later that morning. Eddie was there, his arm in a sling to keep his shoulder still. She hugged him and stepped back, studying him from head to toe. “You look good, Peterson.”

“I feel pretty good . . . thanks to you.”

“You’d do the same for me.”

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t have been as prepared as you. I’d have to stuff your wound with moss or leaves. I don’t think the doctors would approve.” He sat and pointed at the chair behind her desk. “Tell me what happened yesterday.”

Mercy set her bag in a drawer and lowered herself into her chair. “I’m still processing it all.”

Eddie was silent as she relayed the story of hunting for treasure and Art’s suicide.

He sat quietly for several moments, staring out the window. “Do you believe Sandy didn’t know about the money?”

“I do. Trevor told us Bree’s real name is Leah Devries. A woman with that name and of the right age in Northern California went off the radar thirty years ago. No one reported her missing. No family to speak of.”

“She built a new life,” said Eddie. “A good one. According to all reports, she’s an amazing teacher.”

“Ironically that’s what brought her down. Trevor saw the coverage of her teacher of the year award and came after her.”

“But he walked away with his portion and Ellis’s. Greedy son of a bitch.”

“And blew it all somehow. He’s very vague about it, but I suspect a gambling problem.”

“How does someone spend a million dollars and have nothing to show for it?” Eddie shook his head in wonder, and then his eyes lit up as he leaned forward. “You remember Larry Tyler, the guy who told us that Victor Diehl flashed a stack of cash all those years ago?” Eddie was brimming with excitement.

“Of course. I still need—”

“I went to Larry’s house this morning while you were lazily sleeping in.”

Mercy stopped. “You did?” She’d planned to visit him.

“I’ve been wondering who told Victor Diehl that the FBI was coming for his guns and land. Since Larry was the one who pointed us in Diehl’s direction, I decided to start there. It took a while, but he finally admitted that he was paid five hundred dollars to tell a story to the FBI.”

“Who paid him?” Mercy whispered. I think I know.

“Trevor. I showed Larry pictures of Art and Trevor, and he positively identified Trevor.”

“I assume Trevor then called Victor to convince him he was about to be raided. He must have known how unstable Victor was. Trevor wanted us to walk into an ambush.” Images of that violent day exploded in her head, and she shuddered. “We could have all been killed . . . even Art. Trevor was trying to derail the investigation.”

“Larry is sitting in the county jail. He’ll be charged.”

“Good,” answered Mercy. “One more detail to cross off my list. Thank you.”

“We’re still missing the fourth thief,” Eddie pointed out.

“Nathan May.” Mercy sighed, tapping her fingers. “I have some thoughts on that, but I want to hear what Bree has to say about him first.”

Eddie stood up. “Let’s go talk to her.”

It was hard not to stare at Bree’s face.

Three days had passed since the attack, and she seemed puffier and more bruised than before. One eye was still swollen shut. Mercy asked Lucas and Sandy to leave while she and Eddie talked to Bree. She had total recall of her attack.

“Trevor walked right in my house.” Bree inhaled deeply. “I didn’t recognize him at first. He pulled a gun on me and then tied me to the chair.” A shudder racked her body. “He was the one leaving me notes, threatening to harm Lucas if I didn’t give him money. When the first note was left on my windshield, I spent the next two days at home, cowering in a ball in bed. I knew it had to be from either Trevor or Nathan May.” She looked at Mercy with her one good eye. “But I didn’t have any money. All I could think about was that Lucas would be attacked next because the money was gone.”

“The money is gone?” Eddie asked.

Bree nodded. “Nathan and I each got a half million. It’s trickled away year after year while maintaining the ranch. Facilities and health care for horses isn’t cheap. When I realized Shane would never get out, I gave some of it to charities. Mostly kids’ charities . . . some to the school district.” She gave Eddie and Mercy a pleading look. “It was dirty money. I understood that, so I tried to do something good with it. When I gave Sandy some for her B&B, it was nearly gone.” Bree shifted in her bed, moving her heavily bandaged hand to her stomach. “Trevor, Nathan, Ellis, and I spent a few days in that cabin, waiting for things to cool down. We didn’t know what had happened to Shane after we left him behind. We knew he’d been shot but didn’t know if he was dead or just injured.”

Mercy listened in fascination. This woman had been part of one of the most notorious heists in modern history. And patiently tutored Ollie twice a week.

Who would have guessed?

“There was no radio reception at the cabin,” Bree continued, “and as we waited, everyone’s paranoia grew. At first we were amazed that we’d succeeded, but the possibility that Shane had died was a black cloud over us; the robbery was his master plan.”

“You were dating him?” Mercy asked.

“Yes. For two weeks.”

“And he convinced you to rob an armored truck?” Eddie was flabbergasted.

Even through her swelling and bruises, Mercy could see Bree’s embarrassment. “I was only eighteen. He was very convincing. He has this way of talking . . .”

The interviews with Shane Gamble spun through Mercy’s head. I can see it. Especially on a young, impressionable teenager.

“I had nothing,” Bree said quietly. “My family had split up. No one cared if I lived or died. Shane cared and painted an amazing future for the two of us.”

“You’d been dating two weeks.” Eddie still couldn’t wrap his head around the concept.

“Believe me, I know how ridiculous it sounds. But when you first fall for someone . . .” Bree’s words slowed. “There’s this high . . . Everything is shiny and new. And anything feels possible.”

Eddie didn’t look convinced.

“Shane protected you,” Mercy said. “He told the investigators you were male. For decades, he stuck to the story.”

Is that romantic or creepy?

Bree looked away from Mercy’s gaze. “I know. He’d told me while we were dating that he’d take care of me until he died.”

Creepy. Definitely creepy.

“Did you communicate with him?”

Pain flashed as Bree’s cracked lips stretched into a grimace. “Yes. We’d made a promise that if we were separated after the robbery, we’d communicate through the personals in the Midnight Voice. Back then the magazine printed personal ads.”

“Isn’t that from a movie?” Eddie’s forehead wrinkled.

“Yes. One of Madonna’s.”

“What did you tell each other through the ads?” Mercy asked, making a plan to find old issues. An awkward way to communicate.

Bree shrugged. “The usual. ‘Love until death.’ I said I’d wait for him, but when he was convicted of killing another inmate, I knew he’d never get out of prison until we both were old.” She snorted. “I thought age fifty was over the hill back then.” Her sigh filled the room. “I stopped responding and reading the ads after his conviction. It was one of the hardest things I ever did.”

“What did you think when Tabitha Huff said she had a message for you?”

Her hand quivered as she gently touched a bruise on her cheek. “I was terrified. Even though her message said to be careful, and she wouldn’t tell me who it was from, I assumed it was from Trevor. I was already getting notes from him. I thought he’d discovered how Shane and I used to communicate and sent her to scare me.”

“But she talked to Sandy too,” Mercy mentioned.

“That confused me. Sandy had nothing to do with the robbery or my past.”

“Tabitha was investigating the robbery, and since both of you were targeted with graffiti, she thought that Sandy might be involved too.” Mercy’s heart ached at the sadness in Bree’s single opened eye. “Tabitha figured out the driver was female. Shane must have accidentally implied it . . . although I find that hard to believe,” Mercy said thoughtfully. “He doesn’t say anything without a purpose.”

Part of her first interview with Gamble rose in her mind. “When I first told him we’d found a body we believed was associated with the robbery, he was extremely tense and desperate for information. But after a minute he suddenly relaxed.” Mercy thought hard, trying to remember the conversation. “I must have referred to the remains as ‘he,’ which told him the remains weren’t yours. He was only concerned that you had died.”

Bree didn’t say anything.

“But instead you married, had a wonderful son, and helped hundreds of children.” Mercy tipped her head the slightest bit as she held Bree’s gaze. “You never felt the need to come forward?”

Bree visibly crumpled. “I was terrified, and the longer I waited, the deeper I dug my own hole. It’s no excuse, but I was barely an adult. I didn’t want to go to prison, and I worried the police would hound me about the other thieves. I knew nothing. I didn’t have the guts to turn myself in.” She coughed and flinched with pain. “I’ve lived with that guilt for nearly thirty years. I’d decide to confess and then chicken out. Over and over. No one was supposed to die,” she said earnestly, looking at both agents.

“What happened in the cabin when people started to get paranoid?” Mercy asked.

“Trevor and Ellis argued nonstop. Ellis wanted to leave; Trevor fought to stay, stating the entire United States was probably looking for us.”

“And then?”

“We’d already divided the money into four portions. I got Shane’s to hold until he got out of prison.” She took a huge breath. “Ellis said he was leaving. He packed up his things . . . Trevor shot him and claimed Ellis’s money. Terrified we were next, Nathan and I told Trevor he’d done the right thing by stopping Ellis.” She looked at Mercy. “We snuck out that night.”

“Trevor says you shot Ellis.”

Bree’s mouth dropped open. “He’s lying. He and Ellis constantly fought.”

“I thought they were best friends.”

“Maybe before the robbery. Shane was the glue that held the four of them together. Without Shane, the dynamic changed. They turned on each other.”

“Where’s Nathan May?” Mercy asked softly.

Bree looked away. “I don’t know. We split up once we got out. I never saw him again.”

Oh, Bree. I’d hoped you’d be completely honest with me.

“Are you going to arrest me?” she asked, bringing her gaze back to Mercy.

“Yes.”

Bree slumped in the hospital bed.

“But I believe the DA will make you a generous deal in exchange for testifying against Trevor for the murder of Ellis Mull. You’ve helped children for thirty years. I’m sure that will be taken into account.”

“I understand.”

Am I surprised this woman turned out to be an infamous bank robber?

Mercy paused, searching her own feelings.

Surprised, yes. Angry or disgusted at her crime? Not so much.

She was a child conned into driving a car by a fast-talking man.

It’s still a crime, and she is guilty.

Outside Bree’s door, Eddie stopped Mercy, a serious look in his eyes. “Do you think she’s telling the truth about Ellis Mull?”

“Yes.”

“Do you need to talk to Shane Gamble again?”

Mercy thought. “I don’t think so . . . He won’t ever leave that prison. If the DA wants to talk to him, she’s welcome to it.”

“Do you think Bree will contact him?”

“I think she knows better. She’s not eighteen anymore. She sees him for what he is.” Mercy checked the time. “Truman is meeting me in a few minutes at Kaylie’s room. Can you come with me? I need you to help me with something first. I have a hunch to follow up on.”

“Sure. Let’s go.” Eddie started down the hall.

“Hey, Eddie.”

He turned to look at her. He’d lost weight since he’d been shot, and his face was very thin. But he was still Eddie.

“I’m glad you’re back.” The words were too casual for how she really felt. Grateful. Very grateful.

He pushed his thick glasses up his nose in a familiar gesture that warmed her heart.

“Yeah. Me too.”

Kaylie had visitors when Mercy and Eddie arrived. Cade sat on Kaylie’s bed, gesturing animatedly while Kaylie hung on every word. Cade’s father, Glenn, leaned against the wall, smiling at the two of them. Mercy caught Glenn’s eye and indicated that she wanted him to meet her in the hall. He stepped out of the room with her and Eddie.

“She looks good,” the tall man told her. “I’m stunned at how fast she’s recovered.”

“That makes two of us.” She liked Glenn. Cade was a hardworking, good kid because of Glenn’s influence. “Think they’ll last longer this time?”

Glenn snorted and grinned. “Why waste time thinking about it? They’ll be off again next week . . . and then on again.”

“Exactly.” She studied his kind face, so reminiscent of his son’s. “Say, Glenn . . . do you have a minute?” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Eddie frown.

“You bet.”

He followed her and Eddie down the hall. Eddie gave her a side-eye as they walked. She held his gaze.

I was right.

Eddie’s eyebrows lowered in concentration, a gentle scowl on his face. When they reached a quiet alcove, Eddie took a long look at Glenn, and his face blanked.

I knew Eddie would see it.

As Mercy stood at Glenn’s twelve o’clock position, Eddie subtly stepped to the four o’clock, ready if she needed him. Always dependable.

Glenn looked expectantly at her.

Mercy drew in a deep breath. “I know you’re Nathan May.”

Neither he nor Eddie flinched.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She removed several folded-up pieces of paper from her bag and flipped through them until she found “Fat Nathan.” She handed it to him. “This one has been driving me nuts. Several people said it looked familiar, and I realized this morning it looks like Cade. His face is similar to yours but much rounder.” She dug out the old high school photo of a lean Nathan May. “In this photo, your hair is totally different and takes away the resemblance, but if I cover it . . .” She placed her hand over the hair. “It’s a thin Cade.”

Glenn stared at the picture for a long moment and then met her gaze. He was still expressionless. “That was a long time ago.”

“Have you talked with Bree?”

“We’ve seen each other several times over the years. Neither of us ever said a word to the other. We both were living our own lives. Good lives with our families.”

Mercy sighed.

No wonder Bree was reluctant to turn him in.

“What are you going to do?” he asked quietly.

“Who shot Ellis in that cabin?”

“Trevor,” he said firmly. “Leah—Bree—and I were convinced we were next.”

I believe him.

Mercy took the image from him and tucked all of them back in her bag. She met Eddie’s gaze and nodded.

“Put your hands behind your back,” Eddie said quietly, placing a hand on Glenn’s upper arm. Glenn silently obeyed, but his face drooped, and his shoulders sagged. Mercy cuffed him as Eddie did a rapid one-handed search.

This situation isn’t any easier for me than Bree’s.

“I’ll escort you outside,” Eddie told him. “Then we’re going to the county jail.”

Glenn straightened and looked at Mercy. “Just tell Cade I had to leave, okay?” His tone was stoic as his eyes pleaded for her understanding. “Don’t tell him about this. I’ll tell him later . . . in my own way.”

He’s been expecting this moment for years. Poor Cade.

“I’ll give him your message.”

“Thank you for handling it this way.” Glenn looked at Eddie. “I’m ready.”

Mercy watched them walk away and disappear around a corner. Her heart was empty, her mind numb.

There’s no winner in this case.

“Hey,” said her favorite rumbly voice from behind her. Warm hands slid around her waist, and she melted back against Truman’s chest. Her heart sped up, and her melancholy floated away. He turned her to face him and gave her a long kiss that made her toes curl. Their love was open and simple, easy and relaxed. A glaring contrast to the events of the last few days.

Everything is better when he’s near.

He pulled back and looked into her eyes, his brows narrowing as he studied her face. “Is Kaylie okay?”

“Yes. Everything is going to be okay.”

I know it will.