Lori Armstrong - Merciless

Oh God. Oh sweet Jesus.

Freaked out by what I was seeing, I stumbled back into the shelving, knocking bottles loose, sending them crashing to the cement like glass bombs.

Clapping my hand over my mouth, I attempted to calm myself. But any chance at calmness fled when I noticed dark black blotches on the plastic curtain.

I knew what blood spatters looked like when they dried.

Just. Like. That.

I bit the inside of my lips to hold the bile down when I realized I’d stumbled into Sheldon War Bonnet’s House of Horrors.

The floor had dark stains. Could be from oil, but I doubted it. The bloodstains on the plastic tarp could be from an animal kill, but I doubted it.

The entire hideous scenario flashed through my brain. Sheldon dragging the victim from his car, stripping her, and strapping her to the gurney. Letting her get thirsty and then offering a drink of digitalis-laced water. He could leave her out here for a day or two while he made his demented plans. That’s why he’d planned the murders in the fall months. Not only was it hunting season, there’d be less chance of the body bloating in summertime heat, gathering insects and interest.

Sheldon War Bonnet was a serial killer.

I had no feeling of pride I’d found this information. Pure dumb luck on my part.

I had no feeling of accomplishment that this discovery would provide closure for the victim’s families.

Right now, I didn’t care.

Because someone in my family was next on his list.

When I reached my truck, I realized two hours had passed during my B &E at Sheldon’s house.

I checked the camera for a memory card. Finding none, I threw the expensive camera out the window as I headed home.

Two things occurred to me: When Sheldon saw his house had been broken into, he wouldn’t call the cops. But he’d know exactly who had done it when he saw the ceramic mushroom and the pictures were missing.

He could torch his house and his garage, erasing evidence of his psychotic ways. But he’d still be gunning for me.

I just had to outgun him. And that was something I was very, very good at.

On my way to the ranch, I called Jake. “Listen carefully. You need to pick Lex up from the bus stop and keep him at your house overnight. Tell him that the hospital called and said his dad can’t have visitors tonight and that urgent FBI business came up and I’m away on a case. Take extra precautions with Hope and Joy. Do not trust anyone with information about me, except for Shay Turnbull. Do not let anyone in your house. Not even anyone you know. Hunker down until I give you the all clear. Okay?”

“Okay. What else?”

“Can you get your hands on a gun?”

“I’ve got one.”

“Good. Keep it with you at all times.”

“I won’t ask what’s goin’ on, but I will tell you to be careful.”

“Thanks.” I lingered on the line, half wanting to say something sentimental for him to pass on just in case… but I slammed a lid on that mind-set and hung up.

• • •

I picked a hidden vantage point beyond where the bus dropped Lex off to make sure Jake didn’t run into any problems when picking him up. I’d texted Lex an apology, an update from the nurse on his dad’s condition-no change-and the promise we’d go to the hospital first thing tomorrow.

Lex’s response? “’kay.”

Daylight had started to dim when I pulled up to the house.

I rolled the pictures and shoved them and the memory card in my purse. I’d stashed the Carhartt behind the seat. In my haste to get home I hadn’t put my other coat back on, so I shivered as I hustled up the porch steps.

In the kitchen I ducked down and put the pictures and the memory card in the oatmeal container, shoving it onto the back of the lazy Susan.

I grabbed a Coke out of the fridge. I turned around when a phone on the kitchen table, a phone I’d never seen before, started to ring. I went on full alert and answered it. “Hello?”

“Mercy. I hoped you’d be the type to pick up a ringing phone.”

Sheldon War Bonnet was on the other end of this call.

Play it cool. “Sheldon? Why would your phone be in my house?”

“After I heard about the sheriff, I felt so bad for you and the boy that I dropped off some cookies. No one was around, and I assumed you were sleeping, so I just left them on the table. I only realized today that I must’ve left my phone there.” He laughed. “Sort of pitiful, isn’t it? That no one ever calls me and I just noticed it was missing… five days later?”

Such a liar. Did he really believe I wouldn’t notice a cell phone on my kitchen table for almost a week? “Do you want to meet someplace so I can give it back to you? I’m not doing anything right now.”

He said, “I know.” But then amended it to, “But I wouldn’t want to put you out.”

My guts twisted when I realized he’d known exactly when I’d gotten home. He had to be someplace close by. “No, I insist. As a matter of fact, why don’t you come out to the ranch and get it?”

Silence.

Then he sighed. “I hear the distrust in your tone.”

“Well, it does appear you broke into my house. If you wanted to talk to me, you could’ve just called the house phone, rather than using this type of ploy.”

“Technically, it wasn’t breaking in since you didn’t lock your door.” He tsk-tsked. “Too bad you don’t lock everything up as tight as your gun safe.”

The bastard had been in my bedroom.

Before I could retort, he said, “Speaking of safe… have you checked in with your family? You know they’re all alive, and well, and accounted for?”

A spike of fear lodged in my soul.

“Well, you know the sheriff is buttoned up tight in room four oh six at the hospital. Last I checked, roughly a half hour ago, your sister Hope and your niece were snug in their trailer. Along with the sheriff’s son. Jake will return from feeding cattle soon. That takes care of the Red Leaf family. At least, that branch of the Red Leaf family. Have you talked to John-John lately? Probably not. I heard that bit of nastiness he said to you that night at Stillwell’s about his stupid vision. He really is such a flaming faggot, you’re better off without his friendship.”

Faggot. I hated that word. “Sheldon, what do you want?”

A noise clunked against the receiver; then, “How about Sophie Red Leaf? When was the last time you spoke to her? When was the last time anyone saw her?”

Hope had told me yesterday she couldn’t get ahold of Sophie. I’d intended to call her today, but I’d gotten sidetracked. Still, she was safe. Devlin and John-John were constantly around her, all of them grieving together.

“Mercy?” he asked with a sharper edge. “When was the last time you saw Sophie?”

“Last week.”

“That long?” He tsk-tsked again. “Isn’t the woman almost a mother to you? I’ll bet if you called her right now, she wouldn’t pick up. I’ll bet if you marched up to her front door right now, she wouldn’t answer. I’ll bet if you broke the door down, you wouldn’t find her at home. Where do you think she could be?” Sheldon laughed. “Ooh. I know exactly where she is.”

Fear, outrage, and more fear built inside me-I was done playing dumb. “What the hell have you done with her? She’s an eighty-year-old woman, you fucking sick bastard.”

“Ah, ah, ah. I’d curb that tongue if I were you. Don’t give me a reason to take out my frustration with you… on poor Sophie.”

“Why are you doing this? She’s done nothing to you.”

“But she means something to you, doesn’t she? I’ll bet she means everything to you. I’ll bet you’ll do anything to get her back.”