Lori Armstrong - Mercy Kill

But I did have to fake it. “It’s just… gone.” The catch in my voice was a nice touch.

A man in a full firefighting suit approached and removed his headpiece. “Mercy. Clayton Black. We’ve never officially met, but I responded to the fire at your place last summer, and I was on scene at Clementine’s.”

“I imagine the next time you hear my name you’ll head the other direction.”

He smiled, making him look far younger than he’d sounded on the phone. “No. I’ve always been the type to run headlong into danger rather than away from it.” He turned toward the house. “As you can see, there ain’t much left.” He pointed to the roof, which had broken into three pieces upon impact with the ground. “At this point we’re treating this as a propone explosion. None of the outbuildings were affected. And we’ve had enough moisture that the flames scorched the ground in places but didn’t start a full-blown fire.”

“That’s something, I guess.”

“Since we spoke, we’ve been keeping an eye on it, and I gotta say, it’s… unnatural for a bunch of firefighters to stand around and watch something burn.”

“I imagine it is. But I’d rather see them safe on the sidelines than risk their lives on a building that ain’t worth saving.”

“And that’s the question of the night, isn’t it?”

The reddish glow from the flames backlit the man, emphasizing the fact that he wore street clothes, not a fireproof suit. His face was shadowed, but I knew who he was.

His gaze flicked between us. “Mercy. Hope. Thanks for getting here so quickly.”

“No problem, Chief.” Dave Klapperich had headed up the volunteer fire department for as long as my dad had been sheriff. During the week Dave ran a successful trucking company and was a shrewd businessman, so I wasn’t surprised by the suspicion in his eyes. He suspected arson. I’m sure everyone did. But there was one glitch in their theory.

Klapperich cut to the chase. “So I’m curious as to why you told Clayton to let it burn.”

The moment of truth. “Because it’s not insured.”

A collective pause.

Klapperich leaned forward. “Did you say this place wasn’t insured?”

I shook my head. “When we learned of the first-right-of-refusal option in the Newsome will, we felt… obligated to buy it. Money was tight. Took all our extra cash just to put a down payment on the land. Then medical bills starting coming in, and we had to choose what took priority. Adding liability insurance on this structure wasn’t on the list. I’d planned to do it next month.”

Stunned silence.

“That’s why I didn’t want the firefighters taking chances. Damn place might as well burn to cinders, as much good as it’ll do us now.”

Hope cried softly.

I put my arm around her, and we watched the east wall cave in. Not a single wall was left standing. A sense of relief washed over me, but I kept my face somber.

Klapperich and Clayton Black seemed embarrassed by my confession of Gunderson money woes. I hadn’t embellished that part. Now with my retirement pay rolling in and a great calving season behind us, things were looking up.

“We’ll stick around and put out any embers until the last of it’s burned away.”

“I-we-appreciate it.”

Hope shook herself out of her stupor. “If you don’t need us, I have a baby to tend, and Mercy needs to get back in bed. She’s been sick all day.”

I ducked my face from view. The last thing I needed was Klapperich to ferret out my “sickness” being from breathing propane fumes while rigging this place to blow.

“No problem,” Clayton said. “Feel better, Mercy. And good luck in the election.”

“Thanks.” I noticed he hadn’t offered his support.

We walked back to the truck in silence. I didn’t argue that I was perfectly capable of driving when Hope snatched my keys.

Halfway home, she stomped on the brakes. My body jerked forward as we skidded sideways to a dead stop in the middle of the road. Before I could snap, “Jesus. A little warning next time?” she whirled on me.

“You didn’t think I deserved to know there wasn’t insurance on the Newsome property? Did you forget I own just as much of the goddamned Gunderson Ranch as you do? I should’ve been in on that decision.” She beat her fists on the steering wheel. “Dammit, Mercy, I felt like such an idiot standing there, not knowing any of this stuff.”

“Good.”

Hope’s mouth dropped open. “ Good ? That’s your response?”

“Yes. It’s about time. Since Joy came home from the hospital, you’ve shown an interest only in her. I understand babies need full-time care, and without doubt you are a great mother.”

“But?”

“But whenever I tried to talk to you about anything besides your baby, you tuned me out.”

Her hands opened and closed on the steering wheel.

“So yeah, since I was saddled with the books, I made some decisions.”

“You made them? Or you and Jake made them?”

“Just me.”

“Good, because Jake is a manager, not an owner,” she tossed back at me.

I didn’t know whether to laugh or scream. But I preferred feisty Hope to fickle Hope. “What would you have done?”

“I would’ve put insurance on the Newsome property no matter what.”

“Something had to give, sis. I looked at the books and went eeny, meeny, miny, moe and picked the one we could do without at the time.”

“That’s no way to do the books,” Hope scoffed.

“If you think you can do a better job, you’re more than welcome to take over.”

“Seriously? You’d let me handle the book work for the ranch?”

The word no hovered on my tongue, but in truth, I couldn’t do it all. I didn’t want to do it all. Pretending I could handle every fucking thing thrown my way was beginning to feel more like a martyr complex than extreme efficiency. Everything would just get more complicated if I won the election. I sighed and rubbed my temples. Damn headache was back with a vengeance. “Yes. I’d gladly hand the books over to you if you’re serious enough to stick with it.”

The engine ticked, and her angry breaths slowed.

Her change in demeanor got my back up. I prepared myself for an epic fight. So I was completely stunned by Hope’s squeal of delight. Then she hugged me.

What the fuck? I was used to her abrupt mood changes, but this bordered on manic. From sadness to anger to delight in mere minutes? I squinted at her, wondering if she’d accidentally breathed in toxic smoke fumes.

Her laughter bubbled out. “Don’t look at me like I’ve lost my marbles. Doing the books is a rite of passage for the women in our family, and I’ve always wanted to do my part since I can’t do nothin’ else around the ranch. But Daddy claimed I didn’t have a head for numbers and refused to discuss it.”

Heat rose in my cheeks on her behalf. For all Dad’s good points, sometimes he could be downright mean. “To be honest, I think you’ll probably do a better job than me.”

“Really?”

“Really. It’s not my thing. So schedule an appointment with Carol. She’ll give you the lowdown on weekly stuff. I want to keep her on to file payroll taxes and all the rest of that junk. As far as day-to-day expenses? You’re in charge. You’ll be dealing with Jake. Will that cause problems in your relationship?”

“Nope. He’s already used to me calling the shots.”

That did make me laugh.

She hit the gas, and we were lost in our own thoughts on the way home. She parked and shut the truck off. Before I hopped out, she said, “Mercy, wait.”

“Look, Hope, before you say anything, I know you had your heart and mind set on living in the Newsome house. And I do understand that you want a home of your own for your family.” My grip tightened on the door handle. “I promise we’ll find you something. Even if we have to take out a loan and build you a new house, okay?”