Lori Armstrong - No Mercy

Without moving, I glanced at the hard-packed ground surrounding Levi’s body and a few feet beyond. I didn’t see footprints, or horseshoe marks. Animal or ATV tracks. Sheriff Dawson had his investigative work cut out for him.

No way could he chalk this up to another accident like he’d done with Albert Yellow Boy.

I didn’t waste energy worrying about Dawson. Strangely enough, I didn’t plan out the best way to tell Hope about Levi. Of all the millions of words in the world, I doubted I could come up with the right ones even if I had a lifetime to prepare.

• • •

An eternity passed before the sheriff showed up. Jake led him to the location on horseback, then spurred away. Two ATVs zipped along behind Dawson, who sat astride a horse. A stretcher was hooked to the side of one machine. The other was piled high with duffel bags. Probably a body bag.

The motley group parked a hundred feet from Levi’s body. Out of respect? Or to preserve the crime scene? When Dawson motioned me over like he expected me to hold the reins of his horse, I turned away. Didn’t give a damn if it pissed him off. I hadn’t stuck around watching over Levi all this time only to be treated as Dawson’s stable hand.

Mad Dog and I were going to butt heads on this, guaranteed.

Heavy footsteps stopped behind me. Followed by the thud and scuffle of bags being dropped in the dirt. No conversation, just the flap flap flap of the nylon straps on the ATVs, the dry wind constantly beating in my ears, and the sorrow screaming in my soul.

Sheriff Dawson didn’t offer condolences. He sidestepped me, inching closer to look at my nephew’s body.

He didn’t move for the longest time. “How long have you been here?” he asked, without facing me.

“I don’t know. Couple of hours.”

“He was like this when you found him?”

No, you stupid cowboy, I shot him in the chest so he wouldn’t blow away.

A lifetime later, he asked, “You gonna answer that?”

“Yes, he was like this when I found him.”

“Did you walk around? Check things out?”

“Are you asking me if, in my rage and grief of finding my nephew murdered, I fucked up your crime scene?”

Dawson wheeled around. “Take a deep breath, Mercy. I know this is hard as hell, but we’re on the same side here.”

Where was the cold, detached part of myself I’d honed to a sharp edge? I inhaled. Exhaled slowly. Started over. “I didn’t mess with anything. I saw him and knew it was too late. I didn’t walk around, didn’t do anything…” But cry .

“Did you see anyone? Maybe off in the distance?”

I shook my head. The motion made me dizzy.

“Hear anything?”

“No.”

He moved in front of me, blocking the sun, frowning at the tear tracks I knew lined my dirty, sunburned skin. “You had anything to drink in the last couple hours?”

“No. I didn’t think I’d be gone this long.”

“Kiki, bring Miz Gunderson a bottle of water.”

Kiki trotted over. “I’m real sorry about Levi, Mercy.”

I nodded, unscrewed the cap, and drank. Wasn’t cold but it was wet.

Dawson left me to my thoughts as Kiki and Davey began to take photos, search for evidence, and do all the necessary things that make for great TV drama. Personally, I’ve never understood the public’s fascination with the indignity of death.

I watched in silence. After years of covert-ops training I could stay in one spot for hours. Not fidgeting, not blinking, not moving, barely breathing. Dawson noticed, but didn’t comment.

After the sheriff conferred with his team, he walked back to me. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t share the details about how Levi was killed with anyone.”

“No problem.” I paused. “Even Hope?”

“You think she’ll disclose the information to everyone in Viewfield?”

I thought about Hope chatting up Kit McIntyre and telling him our business in the grocery store. “I don’t know.”

“Stress to her that keeping this under wraps is important. We’ll share this with the fewest people possible.”

“Why?”

“Because it got all screwed up with Albert Yellow Boy. Too many people knew…”

At least Dawson recognized he’d made a mistake. “Do you trust the people in my dad’s department?” Shit. “I meant in the sheriff’s department?”

“Implicitly. It won’t be leaked from my end.” His face and his tone softened. “We’re loading him up now. Might be best if you head back to the house.”

“I’m fine.”

Dawson sighed. He rubbed the scruff of his neck. “Don’t do this.”

“Do what?”

“Make me regret letting you stick around.”

“ Letting me stick around?” I lowered my voice. I knew better than to chew his ass in front of his subordinates. “Need I remind you exactly whose land you’re on, Dawson? And if it wasn’t for me bucking your advice that Levi would eventually show up, it would’ve taken you three goddamn weeks to find him just like Albert Yellow Boy.”

Dawson’s expression didn’t change. “I’ll ignore that smart-ass comment, on account you’re not thinking clearly. Get on your machine and go home, Mercy. There’s nothing else you can do here. Hope needs you a lot more than Levi does at this point.”

My stomach pitched. Ticked me off he was right and I hadn’t even thought to ask whether anyone had told her. “Does she know?”

“No. Jake called Dr. Canaday. He and Sophie promised to stay with her until the doc arrived.”

Damn. Hope would assume Dr. Canaday was there to take care of Levi.

“Just so you know, we’ll be bringing him back through your place. That’s the easiest access for… emergency services. Kiki and Davey will handle the transport personally.”

It made sense, but it sickened me. I’d need to give Hope the awful truth before she saw her son’s body in a black bag.

I turned away, my mind already on the horror I had yet to face and not the horror behind me.

Hope’s initial reaction went about like I’d expected. Denial until the sheriff and the ATVs pulled up with Levi’s body. Then came the hysteria. The tears. Oh God. Her ear-piercing shrieks sliced a thousand cuts in my soul.

I tried to soothe her. Comfort her. I held her when the hysteria abated to constant sobbing, and I suspended my sorrow to help Hope deal with hers. Still, I thought it was horrible and selfish that Theo didn’t cut short his trip and return to support Hope, the mother of his child, who’d lost a child. Not that I wanted him here. But what kind of person willingly stayed away when someone they loved was hurting?

You reacted the same way when your father was dying.

No. Not the same. Not at all.

Wasn’t it?

Sophie sent me outside to dump the garbage. I thought I’d been holding it together fairly well… until Jake pulled up with Shoonga. The dog bounded from the pickup bed, sniffed me, smelling Levi on my hands. He barked and whined, rubbing his body on my lower legs, trying to herd me to where I’d hidden his master. When he looked up at me with those expectant brown eyes, tongue lolling out of his mouth, I fell to the dirt and sobbed quietly in his fur until he’d had enough and darted away.

Beyond heartsick, I pushed to my feet and returned inside to pace and hover over my sister.

During a rare quiet spell, I left Hope lying on the couch. In Dad’s office I made a list of people to call, but ultimately, I couldn’t even pick up the phone. As I rooted around for a pen, I found Dad’s last prescription for Valium. I’d never consider offering it to a pregnant woman, but I looked at it longingly, wishing I could down a pill or ten. After accomplishing nothing, I tiptoed into the living room in case Hope had fallen asleep.