Lori Armstrong - Mercy Kill

I’d convinced myself I was doing A-Rod a favor by letting her drive, but the truth was, I needed to feel the stinging sand and scorching rays on my face to burn away my shame.

For years after that incident, I never faltered in my responsibilities. I pulled the trigger-literally and figuratively-every single time.

Until I’d run across that lioness.

I’d never let sentimentality affect my judgment again. Never.

“Mercy? You still with me?” Anna said.

“Yeah.” I put a bullet on top of the casing and pushed the ram down, seating the bullet to the proper depth. “Just reliving that fun time when I realized I’d fucked up and nearly got us all blown up.” I looked at Anna. “Has it ever happened to you?”

“What? Freezing up to the point that I didn’t take out my target?”

I nodded.

She took a drink of beer as she measured me. “Nope. Not ever. Not when I was enlisted, not now that I’m a private contractor. Then again, we’re different, Gunny.”

“How so?”

“You follow orders. I follow my gut instinct. Sometimes, doing what’s wrong is the only thing that feels right.”

A chill ran down my spine that didn’t have a damn thing to do with the cool breeze blowing in.

Three raps sounded, and Sheriff Dawson appeared in the open doorway.

Why hadn’t I heard him drive up?

“Mind if I come in?”

I said, “Sure. You here on official business?”

His face took on a guarded expression, as if he couldn’t believe my antagonism right off the bat.

Quickly, I amended, “I only asked if you were off duty because if you are, I’ll offer you a beer.”

Dawson relaxed into the door frame. “I’ll pass. But thanks.”

“So you just out making the rounds?”

“Yes and no. I’m here to give you a heads-up.”

“What’s going on?”

“A homicide.”

I played dumb. “Another one? You’re kidding me. Who?”

“Deputy Moore found Victor Bad Wound’s body this afternoon at Mulligan’s.”

“Holy shit. Really? How long had he been missing?”

“No one knows because it wasn’t officially reported.”

I frowned. “Huh. How’d he die?”

“Multiple gunshot wounds. We’re tentatively placing time of death between twenty-four and forty-eight hours ago.”

“So you came by to… warn me a shooter is on the loose or something?”

“Not exactly.” He shifted his stance. “You crossed paths with Victor a couple of times.”

“Unavoidable when Saro’s group started coming into Clementine’s. I broke up a fight involving his nephew at Stillwell’s, and Victor and Saro cornered me. But that was the extent of my contact with him.”

“Did you threaten him at Stillwell’s that night?”

Not a casual question. “Am I a suspect or something?”

Dawson just stared at me.

“I don’t fucking believe this. Am I suspect?” I held my hands out. “If you’ve come to do a gunpowder residue test on me, I’m telling you right now, I’ll fail it.”

He smiled benignly. “Thanks for the tip. But I’m here strictly on a fact-finding mission. Of course, if you want to tell me your whereabouts for the last two nights…”

As I composed a tart reply, Anna jumped in. “I can answer that. Me ’n’ Gunny have both been here, drinking beer, shooting the shit, and watching DVDs of Lost . Debating the hotness factor of Sawyer and Jack versus Sayid and Jin.”

“Which brings me to the second reason I’m here.” Dawson looked at Anna. “I’ve heard from a couple of people that you’re friends with Victor’s live-in, Cherelle Dupris?”

Anna rolled her eyes. “Out here in the boondocks if you talk to a person a couple of times you’re best buddies? Give me a break. Me ’n’ Gunny talked to her one night about campaign stuff. I played one game of pool with her. I talked to her one other time while I sat at the counter at Clementine’s and she picked up a bottle to go. So yeah, I guess I can see where you’d think me ’n’ her are now BFFs.”

I ignored Anna’s sarcasm. “Why does it matter?”

“We’re looking for anyone who might know Cherelle’s whereabouts.”

Dread curled in my stomach. “Is she a suspect?”

For a second it appeared Dawson would hedge, but he nodded. “According to our sources on the rez, she hasn’t been at the house she shares with Victor since yesterday. We want to talk to her.”

If Cherelle hadn’t been at the house, then where had she called me from this morning? And why had she lied?

“ Talk to her?” I asked.

“Better to talk to us than what’ll happen if Saro gets ahold of her first.”

I fiddled with the ram on the reloader. “Where is Saro?”

“Holed up in his house. Again, according to our source, Cherelle isn’t with him. Just his drug-running gophers.”

“So you’re thinking this could be a drug-related hit?”

“Possibly. Miz Dupris isn’t the only suspect we’ve got, but right now she’s the most important.”

Too bad if Dawson thought I was poking at him, but I had to ask. “Is Turnbull involved?”

Dawson’s mouth twisted with disdain. “Big fucking surprise. It’s only been a few hours since the body was found and we’re already being cut out of everything.”

“Not everything, if you’ve got inside info.”

“True. Wherever Cherelle has gone, she didn’t drive her car.”

“Do you think Cherelle ran?”

“I hope so. Going off the reservation is the only chance we’ll have of talking to her. Even if she didn’t kill Victor, we’re guessing she has an idea who did.”

Anna got up and grabbed another beer.

Dawson and I stared at each other in silence.

Had Kiki told Dawson I’d discovered Victor’s body? Was he waiting for me to be honest with him? If I didn’t, would he arrest me for obstruction of justice? How could I confess that if I hadn’t been running for his job I would’ve phoned everything in like a dutiful citizen?

Running for sheriff should make you more responsible to the truth, not less.

“Mercy?”

Lost in self-recriminations, I hadn’t realized Dawson had spoken to me. “I’m sorry. Could you repeat that?”

“Turnbull doesn’t know I’m here. In fact, he’d blow a gasket if he found out. So if he happens to swing by…”

“He won’t. But I’ll keep my mouth shut.” It irked me Anna was here. Be nice to have one honest goddamn conversation with Dawson for a change. “But why are you telling me all this?” When you wouldn’t before went unsaid.

“Because as a candidate for public office, you should be informed on what’s going on in this county. I understand that now.”

That almost sounded like… a partial apology.

“Besides, I wouldn’t want you to make a rash decision on faulty intel.” He smiled and pointed at my reloading press. “I’ll let you get back to it.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow night at the debate.”

Dawson pushed off the door frame and rammed his hand through his hair. “About that. Are we keeping it civilized? Or are we going for the jugular?”

“Civilized. I wish this whole damn thing was over.”

“Me, too.” His gaze sought Anna’s. “Miz Rodriguez.”

She lifted her bottle in mock-salute. “Sheriff.”

As soon as the sound of tires on gravel faded, Anna said, “I hope you win the election, because that man is an idiot.”

No, he’s not.

I couldn’t defend him without raising Anna’s suspicions.

Why are you defending him anyway? Would your defense be on a professional level? Or on a personal one?

Although she’d been preoccupied since her arrival, and off doing her own thing 90 percent of the time, it seemed strange Anna hadn’t asked if I was involved with anyone. Then again, knowing Anna, she’d assume if I’d hooked up with a guy, I would’ve mentioned it to her.