Mercy

Chapter 25

Beth’s information proved to be spot-on. However, Buckley hadn’t been able to enter the women’s shelter and directly talk with Rosa due to their visitor safety protocols.

He sat in his car for several hours and watched women come and go from the shelter. Finally, his patience was rewarded when Rosa walked out, turned left, and entered a café a block down from the shelter. He got out and followed her in. She had taken a table at the back, and he walked over and introduced himself.

She looked frightened when he told her that he was Ken’s older brother.

“I’m not supposed to be talking to anybody like you. They said I could come here for a few minutes just to stretch my legs, but I have to go right back. They know where I am and if I’m not back—”

He interrupted her to say disarmingly, “Please, I wish you nothing but the best. I know my brother is an idiot and dangerous. He always has been. He’s been getting into trouble for so long I have given up on him. I really have. But he called me and told me what happened and I came in to see him. I was close by, you see.”

“He called you, so he’s okay then?” she said nervously.

“He was beaten up pretty badly but, yes, he’s okay. He, of course, disclaimed all responsibility, but I know better and I talked to the people at the motel. They were very clear that he was at fault and that the young woman who came to your aid was quite the heroine.”

“She was. She saved my life probably.”

“May I sit down?”

She hesitated for a moment, but then looked at the crowded café and probably decided it was safe enough.

“Okay, sure.”

Buckley sat across from her. “I have made it very clear to Ken that if he ever comes near you again, you will press charges and have him sent to jail for a long time.”

She looked at him wide-eyed. “And you’d be okay with that?”

“Ken belongs in jail.”

“How did you even know where I was?”

“The woman at the motel mentioned this women’s shelter. It was a shot in the dark, but, quite by luck, as you were coming out, I was pulling up in my car.”

“But how did you know what I looked like?”

“Again, the woman at the motel described you in detail. She said you were quite lovely, and she was right.”

Rosa looked down and a smile crept across her lips. “Thank you.”

Buckley ran his eye over the woman and quickly summed her up, having known dozens just like her. Sexy and she knew it, feisty, not well-educated, capable of being physically dominated, and also susceptible to just the right sort of talk, encouragement, and flattery, but with a red line that could not be crossed. He marveled at how his obtuse, one-dimensional brother had managed it with her. Probably through brute strength, which only worked for a time with women. Then the woman either wised up and fled or pissed off the man enough to where her death followed.

Or his.

The waitress came over and they ordered coffees. Buckley waited until they were delivered to start speaking again. “I do have a question. Ken is not subtle or complex. His anger issues are quite apparent. With that in mind, why were you even with him?”

Rosa shrugged. “He was different, in the beginning. He was nice and treated me nice. Then he changed. Like overnight. I was going to leave him. Nobody deserves to be treated like that. I gave him lots of chances.”

“I’m sure you did. I gave him lots of chances as well. So it was fortunate that this woman showed up when she did.”

“Yeah. See, Ken was beyond pissed because he said I’d looked at another guy for a couple seconds. I mean, as if. I’d never do that because he’d kill me.”

“Yes, I’m sure. So what can you tell me about your savior?”

“Why?” Rosa said cautiously. “Look, I don’t want her getting into trouble. She told Ken to cool it and walk away. But he was going to knife her and then he pulled his gun.”

Buckley spread his hands in a disarming gesture. “I’m not here to get her into trouble. But the police are looking for her. I want to make sure that she knows Ken won’t be pressing charges against her, because I also made that clear to him. As you also pointed out, Ken was going to hurt her.”

“Hell yes he was. He said he was going to kill her. He fired two shots from the pistol before she knocked him out. So why are the police looking for her then? If she didn’t do anything wrong and Ken isn’t pressing charges?”

“There is one small problem that goes outside of anything having to do with Ken. She apparently told people that she was an undercover cop. The police frown on that. I believe that’s why they’re looking for her. For identifying herself as a police officer.”

“She only said that to get that witch at the front desk off her case.”

“Nevertheless, I’m just telling you what I’ve been told. So do you have any idea where she is, or what her name is?”

“No, she never told me her name. And I didn’t ask. But I think she was from around here. I mean, she knew where the women’s shelter was. We drove straight there.”

“Do you believe she might have stayed there at some point?” asked Buckley.

“I guess it’s possible. I mean, why else would she know where it was?”

“Unless she worked there at some point?” suggested Buckley. “Or had a friend who stayed or worked there?”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true.”

“What are your plans?” asked Buckley.

“I’m not sure I have any right now.”

“What is your line of work?” Buckley asked.

“I used to be a receptionist. But I can do nails. And I did some personal fitness training.”

“Yes, you look very fit. So you did that before Ken came into your life?”

“I... I had some problems with stuff that sort of messed me up for a while,” Rosa replied, averting her gaze. “Ken and I met at a party. We hit it off, so...”

“Were they substance abuse problems?”

“Why do you say that?” she asked, giving him an offended look.

“Because that’s the problem most people have that messes up their lives. But I’m not judging you. Lots of people get addicted for all sorts of reasons.”

“Well, I kicked it, at least I’m pretty sure I did.”

He took out his wallet, counted out a thousand dollars, and handed them across.

“What’s this for?” Rosa asked with a stunned expression.

“Call it a down payment on financing your post-Ken life.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“No, I feel that I do.”

She quickly put the cash in her jeans pocket. “Thank you. That’s really sweet of you.”

“You’re welcome.”

She gazed admiringly at him, obviously attracted by his good looks and expensive clothes and cultured and generous manner. “I can’t believe you’re Ken’s brother.”

“We were always very different. But if he had made better choices, he could have become what I did. Or perhaps even better. He had some talents.”

“I wish I’d met you instead of him,” she said coyly, gracing him with a smile as she toyed with a lock of her hair and leaned forward to show a flash of cleavage. “Look, I’ll leave you my number, in case you have any more... you know, questions. Maybe we could have a drink?”

“Maybe we could. Shall we head back?”

He walked her to the shelter and watched as she disappeared inside after giving him a smile and a little wave.

“Saw you give her that money, mister.”

Buckley turned to see a woman standing there. She was in her fifties and had clearly suffered a hard life. Her clothes were dirty and disheveled and her eyes unfocused and her body wobbly. She said, “I live here, too.” She pointed to the shelter. “I heard you talking to that pretty Mex girl over coffee. I was having coffee too, with my last dollar.”

“I see,” said Buckley. “Perhaps you can earn some money, too.”

The lady looked at her falling-apart shoes. “I was here when El brought her in.”

“El?” said Buckley.

“El Cain.”

“Is El short for something? Ellen, Eleanor?”

“Don’t know about that.”

“Exactly how do you know her?”

“She used to be here, years ago. I come here off and on. You don’t forget El. Tallest woman I’ve ever met. And tough. She don’t take shit from nobody.”

“What else do you know about her?” asked Buckley.

The woman eyed him funny. “Saw you give her money,” she said again.

Buckley produced ten twenty-dollar bills and passed them to the woman.

She pocketed the money, looking warily around as though to check who might be watching, and said, “She’s a good person. Helped me.”

“Do you know anything about her background? Where she came from? What she does for a living?”

The woman thought for a moment and then snapped her fingers. “She does that kickboxing stuff. You know? That MM-something.”

“MMA? Mixed martial arts?”

The woman pointed at him. “Yep, that’s it.”

“Where does she fight?” “There’s a place on the south side of town. Old shoe factory or something like that. Went there one time to watch two gals near kill each other. Never saw El fight, but I bet she was good. Don’t take shit off nobody, like I said. She told me she fought there.”

“She apparently is a very good fighter. When was the last time you saw her?”

“Well, when she brought in the Mex gal.”

“Anything else?”

“She’s a good person,” she said again.

“I’m sure she is. Thank you.”