Merciless

7

I wasn’t sure how this dinner party stuff was supposed to work. Since it was at my house, was I expected to act as the hostess? Would I be in the kitchen while other folks mingled?

Someone had parked in my spot at the ranch. But I shoved that annoyance aside and watched Lex playing fetch with the dogs. I wandered over to the old barn. Shoonga raced circles around me, but Butch had his eye on the prize.

Lex let the ball fly, and Butch was off like a shot. Shoonga gave chase.

I shoved my hands in my pockets. “Hey, Lex. How was school today?”

He shrugged. “Okay.”

“How do you like your teacher?” Lame, Mercy.

“She’s all right.”

“That’s good to hear. Do you have homework?” Lamer yet. Why don’t you just put him on the spot and ask if he made any new friends today?

“I already did it.”

“Great. So you up for this par-tay?”

He whipped the ball after Butch dropped it at his feet. “I guess. One of the kids in my class is coming. Doug… I don’t know his last name.”

“Illingsworth. He’s my friend Geneva’s son.”

“So you really don’t got any kids?”

“Nope, I’m not able to have children.”

Lex’s eyebrows lifted. “Ever?”

“Ever.”

“Huh. So you and my dad won’t have more kids?”

I hadn’t considered that might concern him. The displaced-by-a-new-baby issue that Levi had struggled with after he found out his mom was pregnant. “Guess it’s just you.”

I thought I heard him mutter “No pressure” as he whizzed the tennis ball again.

A beat passed before he faced me. “So who’s the teenage kid in the pictures around the house?”

That sense of loss punched me in the gut. “My nephew, Levi. He was Hope and Jake’s son.”

“Was?” He blinked. “Oh, wow. He’s dead?”

I nodded. “Last year.”

“How’d he die?”

How did I know he’d ask that? “He was murdered.”

His cheeks paled. “Really?”

“Yeah. So you can imagine it’s hard for us to talk about, but if you hear us mention him, at least you’ll know who we mean.” I offered him a wan smile. “Shoonga was Levi’s dog. But we all sort of share him.”

Lex didn’t say anything else, so I took a deep breath and entered the Gunderson/Dawson party zone.

Not as much chaos as I expected in the kitchen. Sophie stirred a pot on the stove. Her daughter Penny arranged sliced veggies on a silver platter. Hope organized disposable plates, cups, and silverware on the table with Joy cocked on her hip. I said a quick hello and went to my bedroom to ditch my gun before Hope had a meltdown.

I really needed thirty minutes to myself, either pounding the gravel as I ran, or working out the day’s stress on my yoga mat. But mind-clearing exercise wasn’t a possibility, so I donned party duds-my rhinestone encrusted Miss Me jeans, a long-sleeved Rockies blouse the color of lilacs, a Nocona belt dotted with silver conches, and my Justin clogs.

Dawson and I passed each other in the hallway. He gave me a quick kiss and vanished into our room to stash his gun.

Some women might have an issue with other women taking over their kitchen. Not me. Mostly because the kitchen had always been Sophie’s domain. So no one gave me a strange look when I asked, “What can I do?”

“Keep an eye on Joy, now that you’re unarmed,” Hope sniffed, shoving the squirmy baby at me.

I checked out her party clothes. The little jeans I’d bought her with butterflies on the butt, and a pink sweater with a carousel horse and GIDDY-UP! emblazoned on the front. I kissed her chubby cheek and whispered, “Lookin’ good, Poopy.” Then I just happened to glance over at Sophie’s daughter, Penny.

Holy crap. She was not looking good. Not at all. Thin to the point of emaciated, she wore a burgundy bandana to hide her bald head. Her brown eyes held that expression of chronic pain, an expression I’d heard my father wore during the last month of his life.

She caught me staring at her. “Thanks for invitin’ me to the party, hey. I doan seem to get out much these days, ’cept for goin’ to the doctor and stuff.”

I sat across from her. “I’m happy you’re here. Now I’ve got a witness to back up how much your mom picks on me.”

The air behind me moved as Sophie flapped her dish towel at my head. “Shee. I ain’t started to pick on you yet. Lucky thing you’re holdin’ that sweet baby, or I’d start right now.”

Penny smiled at Joy.

Joy fisted her tiny hands in the tablecloth and yanked with a happy shriek. “Hey, troublemaker, you’re not quite up to Criss Angel’s level with the old pull-the-tablecloth-off-the-table trick yet.” I stood before she did any real damage.

“I love babies. I would’ve liked to’ve had grandkids.”

John-John, being gay, wouldn’t ever have kidlets. And his sister, Penny’s daughter Christina, had died in a car accident before Sophie came to work for us. My fleeting thought that such tragedy just seemed to befall some families was squashed when I realized most folks in Eagle River County thought the same thing about the Gundersons.

Devlin Pretty Horses, Sophie’s freeloading son, swooped in and grabbed a handful of veggies. “Grandkids ain’t all they’re cracked up to be, trust me.”

I’d never liked Devlin. A guy pushing sixty, who’d always lived with his mother? Pathetic. It’d be one thing if Devlin ever did a damn thing except sit on his ass and watch TV. Sophie made excuses for his lazy ways-excuses I’d stopped listening to when I was in high school. I slapped on a polite smile. “Devlin, I didn’t know you were here.”

“Been keeping an eye on the score. I got money ridin’ on this game.”

Another reason I disliked him. I wondered how much of Sophie’s salary fed his gambling addiction.

“Got any beer?” Devlin asked.

“Devlin, you promised no drinking tonight,” Sophie half pleaded. “You’re driving us home.”

“Relax, old woman. One beer won’t put me over the limit.”

“There’s beer in the cooler on the front porch,” Hope said helpfully.

Sophie scowled at Hope.

Devlin stood there for a second, as if he expected his mother to fetch it for him. Muttering, he headed out the door.

“So are John-John and Muskrat coming tonight?” I asked Penny.

“Just my son. Muskrat has to keep an eye on the bar.” She pushed a line of carrot sticks closer to the sliced radishes. “I could use a stiff drink.”

Sophie turned and frowned at her daughter. “It’ll just make you sick.”

“And since I feel sick ninety-nine point nine percent of the time, I can’t see why I shouldn’t have one. ’Cause it ain’t like it’s gonna kill me.”

The woman had cancer. Why would anyone begrudge her a drink? “I’ll make you one.”

Penny gave me a grateful look.

I could knock back a shot or two of Wild Turkey, but since I’d been saddled with Joy, booze was off limits for me. I wondered if that’d been my sister’s intention.

The door opened and disgorged a group of people. John-John. Geneva; her husband, Brent; and their large brood. Kiki, in uniform, although my eagle eye noticed she’d also ditched her gun. Bernice from the sheriff’s office. Our hired hands, TJ and Luke Red Leaf, and their wives, Lucy and Ruby. I wouldn’t have thought it strange that they clustered together, instead of gathering around Penny, Sophie, and John-John, if I hadn’t recently noticed the tension between the Red Leaf and Pretty Horses relatives. Our neighbors, Tim and Kathy Lohstroh. Our other neighbors, Mike and Jackie Quinn.

Ten thousand kids ran in and out.

Dogs barked.

Hope plucked Joy from my hands as Rollie and Verline strolled in, sans kids.

Sophie harrumphed and gave them her back. John-John whispered something to his mother. And she shook her head vehemently.

Appeared I was the only person who intended to welcome them. “Hey guys, glad you could come. Can I getcha something to drink?”

“Anything with booze for me,” Rollie said.

Verline stuck close to Rollie, which didn’t seem to make him happy.

I poured the whiskey and water, one each for Rollie, Penny, Dawson, and Geneva, and a double for myself. After I handed them out, I heard Dawson yelling for me. I drained the shot and cut through the crowd that’d spilled into the living room. The last time we’d had this many people in the house had been after Levi’s funeral.

Dawson stood in front of the TV with his hands on Lex’s shoulders. He motioned me to stand by his side. “I’d like to thank Hope and Miz Red Leaf for surprising us with the idea for a party welcoming my son, Lex, to South Dakota.”

I caught Geneva’s eye and she mouthed “Sucker” to me. Mature, not to stick my tongue out at her or flip her off.

“As of this morning, Lex is enrolled in Eagle Ridge Middle School in sixth grade for the entire school year.”

Clapping.

“Son, anything else you want to add?”

Lex’s face turned a darker shade of red, and he shook his head.

“Ain’t gonna be able to get away with nothin’ with your dad as the sheriff, boy,” Devlin shouted out.

Laughter.

“That didn’t seem to keep Mercy outta trouble, though, when Wyatt was sheriff,” Tim Lohstroh said dryly.

More laughter.

“Thanks, everyone, for coming. I believe it’s time to eat, so help yourselves. The food, as always, will be excellent, again thanks to Miz Red Leaf and Hope.”

Kiki offered her hand to Lex. “I’m glad you’re here, and I imagine we’ll be seeing you at the sheriff’s office.”

Lex nodded. His shyness with adults surprised me.

Geneva approached next. “Lex, I’m Doug’s mom. I hope we’ll see you at our place soon.” She winked. “Always plenty of chores to do.”

“My dad said I’d have chores to do around here.”

When Geneva said, “It builds character,” I rolled my eyes. We’d made fun of our folks endlessly for saying those exact same words to us at that age.

I stood close enough to Dawson that I heard his stomach rumble. I looked up at him and touched his arm. “Skipped lunch again today, Sheriff?”

“Got a little busy.”

“You’re starving. You guys get in line.”

“You comin’?”

“In a minute.”

Geneva smirked at me after they headed for the kitchen. “Aw, lookit you, worrying for your man’s appetite and well-being.”

I whispered, “Fuck off,” in her ear.

She laughed. “You are so freakin’ easy to tease, Mercy. And I’ll admit, being domesticated and in love suits you. You look… happy. For a change.”

Much as I hated the word domesticated, I couldn’t deny I was happy.

“At least your job with the FBI hasn’t put you two at odds. Yet. Can you tell me anything about the murder that happened on the rez?”

Of course Geneva put a disclaimer on my happiness-not to be mean, but because she knew me well. I’d mentally done the same thing.

“You know I can’t comment on cases, except to say, it was a hellish week.”

She lowered her voice. “And in addition to that stress, you’re okay being mommy to Dawson’s boy?”

“(A) I’m not his mommy, and (b) yes, without giving you more ammunition, I’m glad Lex is here because Mason is so happy about it.”

“It’s all about making your man happy. Stroking his… ego.”

“Jesus, give it a rest.”

But smart-ass Geneva went ahead and made kissing noises anyway, so I elbowed her in the gut.

“Not fair,” she wheezed. “But fine, I’m done. I’ll admit, with your friends and his… there’s a weird mix of people here.” We both glanced at John-John fussing around his mother. Devlin on his knees in front of the TV. Then Rollie and Verline exchanging harsh words in the corner. Sophie moved around, but without her usual hustle. “How is Sophie holding up?”

“Look at her. When I suggested she might want to slow down, she acted like I was firing her on the spot.” I shot Geneva a sharp look. “And yes, I offered to keep paying her salary while she took a leave of absence to be with her daughter, but she said, and I quote, ‘I won’t be takin’ no one’s charity, hey.’ ”

“Stubborn woman. But not surprising. I think that’s where you learned it.” Her focus shifted. “Excuse me, but I have to make sure Krissa eats more than cookies for supper.”

Somehow I ended up holding Joy again, who wasn’t happy because she saw food and didn’t have any. I plopped her into her high chair, right by Rollie and Verline. When Joy shrieked and pounded her fists on the plastic tray, Rollie made a disgruntled noise and left. Verline didn’t follow him.

I tossed a couple of animal crackers on Joy’s tray, because my food-nazi sister had specific dietary restrictions for her daughter. I’d gotten my ass chewed for introducing my niece to the deliciousness of chocolate ice cream.

I studied Verline. She was so damn young. A little on the plain side. Still carrying a few extra pounds from her last baby. When she tucked a hank of hair behind her ear, I noticed a discolored spot on her cheek, now faded to yellowish green.

A bruise. On her face.

I froze. Had Rollie hit her? This young girl who’d borne his children? No other plausible reasons for a facial bruise surfaced.

Could I get Verline alone to get to the bottom of it? And if I found out Rollie had caused that mark? I’d… I wasn’t sure what I’d do. But I sure as shit wouldn’t let it slide.

I mingled. I chatted. I let liquor soothe me. The crowd made short work of the sloppy joes, chips, molasses cookies, calico baked beans, and Sophie’s famous radish-and-pineapple coleslaw.

When I saw Verline snap at Rollie and then storm outside, I followed her. She’d cut into the sheltered area between the two barns. The bluish glow of the yard light illuminated the darkness, so I wasn’t completely night-blind.

She fired up a smoke and inhaled deeply, resting her shoulders and one foot against the outside barn wall.

“Verline? You all right?”

She didn’t seem annoyed at my presence. “I’m fine. Just takin’ a smoke break. Didja need something?”

“I wanted to tell you thanks for coming tonight.”

Her eyes zoomed to me, my back pressed against the opposite barn wall. “You came out here in the cold to do that?”

“No. I came out to ask you what’s going on with you and Rollie. You both seem tense.”

“He’s bein’ a dick, so I’m bein’ a bitch. That about sums it up.”

Her words weren’t laced with venom, as I expected, but sadness.

“Why? Has he said somethin’ to you?” she demanded.

“No, but I’ve run into him a couple of times in the last week, and he’s been grouchy.”

Verline snorted. “Fucker is beyond grouchy.” She inhaled and tipped her face to the sky as she exhaled. “He’s pissed off we have another kid. Ain’t like I can do anything about it now.”

I didn’t respond.

“He bitches all the time about bein’ too old to be around babies. He don’t want nothin’ to do with them. Pisses me off because I thought he was different than other men. Makes me sick that he…” Her chin trembled, but she firmed it and smoked angrily. “I won’t keep my babies in a place they ain’t wanted. I know what that feels like.”

“Is that how you ended up with Rollie?”

“Maybe. Met him when I was thirteen. Started chasing after him when I was sixteen. He never seemed old to me. He was a real man. Not like the mean men I’d been around. Drunks. Losers. Druggies. Wannabe gangbangers. Rollie talked to me. He listened to me. He didn’t treat me like a stupid little girl. He treated me like I mattered.”

I schooled myself against commenting on Rollie treating himself to sex with a young thang who had a serious case of hero worship.

“I moved in with him when I was seventeen. Thought since he’d done such a good job takin’ care of me that I could return the favor.” Verline puffed on her cigarette and blew out a stream of smoke. “Within two months I was knocked up. He wasn’t upset, but all his kids that speak to him ’cept for Junior were majorly pissed off.”

“Why?”

“They think Rollie’s got money, and when he dies the pie’s gonna be grabbed by another grubby fist. They oughten be thinkin’ that way at all. No wonder he don’t want nothin’ to do with any of his kids or his ex-wives.” Verline tilted her head and stared at me through the smoky haze drifting from her mouth. “He likes you. Respects you. I think he kinda wishes I was more like you. Tough.” She shrugged. “But he don’t want you the way he wants me.”

Thank God. “I’m not blowing smoke up your skirt when I say Rollie’s always spoken of you with…” Shit. Why was I getting in the middle of this?

Her eyes narrowed. “With what?”

My brain urged me to lie. But my tongue had been dosed with truth serum. “Exasperation. And affection. Does that make sense?”

She smiled. “Yep. If you’da said he spouted his undying love for me, I’da called bullshit. But seein’s I recognize that scary-ass, don’t-ever-fuck-with-me look in your eyes that I see in his? Well, I ain’t gonna tangle with you. I ain’t dumb.”

There was my opening. “So are you dumb enough to let Rollie beat on you, Verline?” I pointed to the side of her face. “I saw the bruise, so don’t lie to me.”

Her sausage fingers skimmed the surface before her eyes met mine. “That’s one thing Rollie ain’t never done. Hit me. Truth is, Taj had a tantrum and smacked me in the face really hard with a metal fire truck.” She laughed and coughed at the same time. “Even I know how lame that sounds. But it’s true. And Rollie was pissed because I was holding the baby at the time, and he thinks Taj is a hellion. At sixteen months. Give me a friggin’ break. He’s a baby.” She tossed her cigarette to the ground and crushed it beneath the toe of her athletic shoe. “Rollie was so sweet to me after that. Funny. Like my old Rollie, not like this angry old man version of him that I don’t even know.”

I believed her. Rollie had a violent streak as wide as mine. Granted, I’d never seen it, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t aware it was there.

“It’s confusing as hell. When it’s good between us, I don’t wanna leave. But when it’s bad…”

“Where are your kids tonight?”

“My sister is watching them. I wanted to come, even when I knew Rollie wouldn’t. So I didn’t tell him where we were goin’ until after he got in my car.”

That would’ve gone over well.

“I’ve heard about this place. Rollie talks about your mom sometimes. Course, I knew your dad when he was sheriff. So knowing all that… I was curious to see if your family is as fucked up as mine.”

“What conclusion did you draw?”

“No contest. Your family is the friggin’ Cosbys compared to mine.”

Pounding footsteps echoed. Lex; Doug; TJ’s youngest kid, Clay; and Luke’s youngest kid, Dirk-they all skidded to a stop as they came between the buildings. “Oh, sorry, we were looking for…” They didn’t finish the sentence, just raced off.

We started back to the house.

“Ain’t you gonna whip out some advice?” Verline asked. “Or give me a pep talk about how all of this will blow over and get better?”

I faced her. “Nope. You’ll figure it out, or you won’t. Besides, if I gave you advice, would you take it?”

“Hell, no.”

“That’s what I figured. But I will wish you luck.”

Three men were arguing in front of the steps. I jogged over when I saw Dawson wasn’t around. “What’s going on?”

“You’re the same sneaking lying bastard.” Devlin sneered at Rollie, ignoring me. “That shit ain’t gonna help her.”

I looked at John-John. He sported a look of hatred I’d never seen before.

Rollie crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not such a bastard when I’m lending you money, Devlin. She’s runnin’ out of options, and so are you.”

“Shut up.”

“How much are you into Saro for?” Rollie calmly asked Devlin.

Devlin shot John-John a look before he glared at Rollie. “You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“I know you got debts all over the place. I know you ain’t got a pot to piss in to pay off them debts. I know them guys ain’t as patient as me.” Rollie looked at John-John. “You gonna bail him out again?”

“Not your concern,” John-John snapped.

“It is a concern to me because it’s my business. My money. That money wasn’t a gift; it was a loan. You ask him how much he owes me. Then you see if you’ve got the right to be uppity with me, winkte.”

I’d watched the exchange with my mouth hanging open.

“Enough.”

Now we all looked at Penny Pretty Horses as she slowly moved down the steps.

“Mom, what are you doing out here without a coat?”

“You afraid I’ll catch my death of cold?”

I bit back a laugh.

But John-John heard the noise and whirled around to glare at me. “You think this is funny? She’s dying of cancer, and you’re laughing?”

Whoa. That was all kinds of bitchy.

Penny patted his arm. “Better to be laughing than crying, eh, Mercy?”

Like I was gonna answer that.

“And you two.” Penny pointed to Devlin and her son. “Leave Rollie alone. I don’t care about your business with him. I can talk to whoever I want and do whatever I want.”

Rollie took a step closer to Penny. “I don’t need you sticking up for me.”

“Jesus, Rollie, don’t be such a dick,” Verline said, grabbing his sleeve and pulling him back. “She’s dying.”

“You shut up and stay out of this,” Rollie warned.

“Yeah, why don’t you take your sniveling jailbait girlfriend home and stick a pacifier in her mouth. It’s probably past her bedtime anyway,” Devlin said.

“You didn’t think I was too young when you were grabbing my ass at the WIC offices, you fuckin’ pervert,” Verline retorted.

Rollie got in Devlin’s face. “You touched her?”

“Every time I see him, he tries to cop a feel,” Verline added.

“Don’t act like you don’t like the attention,” Devlin sneered. “You’da blown me for five bucks, like all the other whores your age on the rez.”

“For Christsake, that is enough.” I stepped between them. “Either beat the shit out of each other so I can jump in and throw a few punches, or knock it the fuck off. All of you.”

Silence.

“We’re goin’.” Rollie took Verline by the arm, and they argued the entire way he towed her to their car.

“Thanks for the drink, Mercy. And the hospitality. It’s been nice seein’ you.” Penny spoke sharply to John-John. “I’m ready to go home now.”

“About damn time. You shouldn’t have come,” John-John said to his mom. “None of us should be here. I knew this was a bad idea.” He gave me another dark look.

What the hell?

Penny pointed to her brother. “You bring Momma home. No stopping anywhere. No causing trouble. And you keep your comments to yourself, understand? Momma don’t need your bullshit tonight. Understand?”

“Yeah,” Devlin grumbled, and went inside the house.

Then I was alone, more confused than ever.

“Well, it ain’t really a dinner party with the Red Leaf and Pretty Horses family until someone shoots off his mouth or starts throwing punches. At least no one was bleeding. Or overtly drunk.”

I turned to the sound of Jake’s voice. “Have you been hiding in the shadows the whole time?”

“Yep. Been there, done that with them more times than I can count, and I know better than to get involved.”

“You wanna tell me what’s going on with your family?”

“Nope. ’Cause trust me, Mercy, you don’t wanna know.”

People streamed out of the house so I stayed put to say my good-byes. After the last vehicle started down the driveway, I trudged up the steps.

I stopped just inside the doorway. The kitchen looked like a scud missile had hit it. Food everywhere. Plates and garbage everywhere.

Guess I knew where my place was in the dinner-party hierarchy. Cleanup crew.