Lori Armstrong - Merciless

“Plans?” She choked on a stream of smoke. “We never do nothin’. Can I bring the babies?”

“Absolutely.”

“Maybe we’ll see you there.”

• • •

My workday consisted of paperwork. Turnbull was strangely subdued. He didn’t ask about my weekend, so I returned the favor and didn’t ask about his.

Midafternoon, I mustered the guts to ask Shay to meet me in the conference room. Director Shenker would be in the Pierre office this week. The other agents were at various locations in western South Dakota. Which left no one to witness the massive ass chewing I was in for.

He was shuffling a sheaf of papers as he walked in. “Why the summons, Agent Gunderson?”

“I have to tell you something, but I don’t want you to rip me a new one because it was an honest mistake.”

Turnbull growled, “What did you do now?”

“I found out the name of the mysterious guy Arlette was supposedly seeing.”

“Who?”

“Junior Rondeaux.”

“As in Rollie Rondeaux, Jr.? The son of your friend Rollie Rondeaux?”

“Yes. Remember the no-show teenage girl the other day-Mackenzie Red Shirt?” I relayed the conversation we’d had in the parking lot. Then, that I’d stopped at Rollie’s and Verline had said Junior didn’t live with them anymore. I followed up with my run-in with Junior in Clementine’s parking lot.

Special Agent Turnbull gave me the silent treatment for, oh, about fourteen seconds before he exploded. “And you didn’t think I needed to know any of this immediately after it happened?” His eyes turned accusatory. “Are you protecting the Rondeaux family? I know about Rollie’s tendency to collect favors. How many do you owe him? And just how long has he been your source?”

I stayed calm. “First of all, last Friday you were pissed off. You hung me out to dry in front of all the other agents, because I had the audacity to ask you questions on a case we’re both working. When I brought up information I’d dug up on my own that might pertain to that case, you put no credence in my findings. Then you just let Shenker assign me shit work.

“I didn’t ask Junior to approach me at Clementine’s when I was having a night out with my sister. But if I hadn’t used the sources at my fingertips, people I’ve known most my life, then I wouldn’t have found out that Junior is somehow working for Saro.”

Both Shay’s eyebrows rose.

“You didn’t know that?”

He shook his head.

I paused and poured a glass of water. Was I supposed to throw all my theories out there for Shay to shoot down? Just so he didn’t think I was keeping information from him? Or should I wait until I had solid leads, evidence, whatever?

“Look, Mercy, you know we’re less rigid in this office than other FBI offices. You and me? We’re not officially partners. But we’re both on this case. That means sharing all information, whenever that information is uncovered.”

“So you’re saying I should’ve called you Saturday night, after I talked to Junior.”

“Yes. And instead of running out of here on Friday like a scolded pup, you should’ve taken me aside and explained exactly why I was flying blind, and that you’d talked to another witness with new information.”

“Scolded pup?” I repeated. “Sir, I didn’t leave on Friday, I was dismissed by Director Shenker. Which was a good thing, given that you’d made my trigger finger awful goddamn itchy during that meeting.”

His lips twitched. “So noted. Anything else you want to tell me?”

“Case-related? No.” I paused. “But as long as we’re in disclosure mode, you should know that as of last night Dawson’s eleven-year-old son, Lex, is living with us.”

“For how long?”

“I’m pretty sure for good.”

“Huh.” He eyed me over his cup of coffee. “You up for the challenge of parenthood, Mama Mercy?”

That sounded weird. “Hell if I know.”

“At least you’re honest.”

Not really. I hadn’t been totally up front with Mason. It’d feel like betraying him if I confessed to Shay that I wasn’t sure how this situation with Lex would work out. A happy outcome mattered to Dawson, but it gave our relationship, which was still new, a different dynamic. As much as I claimed I wouldn’t be the boy’s mother, in effect, I would have a part in raising him. Didn’t that define parenting?

Shay gathered the papers he’d spread over the desk.

“Can I have those to make copies? Since I won’t be back in this office the rest of the week?”

“Sure.” He handed me the stack. “You really think you’ll find correlating cases, or events that should’ve been designated federal cases that have been overlooked?”

“I don’t know. But I’m on this assignment until Director Shenker releases me.” I could tell Turnbull wasn’t happy. He also knew he had only himself to blame. “Have a good week, Shay.”

I’d made it to the door when he said, “Mercy. Wait.”

I didn’t turn around.

“If you need something this week, just call me. I can be there in an hour and a half.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” I almost relented and asked if he wanted to come to the party tonight, but I bit my tongue and went to make copies.

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.