A Merciful Death (Mercy Kilpatrick #1)(50)

One down. What about the second man?

Levi scowled. “You need coffee.” He directed her to a tall stool at a close table. “What can I make you?”

“Americano. Heavy cream.”

He clanked some things behind the counter, and the machine started to hiss as the water was pressed through the grounds. “I need to know why you’re asking if he’s dead,” he said without looking up from his task.

“Remember the mirrors?”

His gaze shot to hers. “Yes.”

“They’re happening again. Here.”

“Women?”

“No, older men. The preppers.”

He frowned as he worked on her drink. “It’s a coincidence. It’s clearly different.”

“It is and it isn’t. That’s why I had to ask if he was still dead.”

Levi brought her the drink in a bright-turquoise cup with matching saucer. He settled himself on a stool next to her. “He wasn’t alone that night.”

Mercy’s anxiety came back. “Rose is having doubts about whether she heard a second voice that night.”

“Well, no one came looking for the dead man and no one reported the shooting at our place. I expected the police to show up the next day. And then when that didn’t happen, I expected it every day after,” said Levi. Stress lined his face, and he appeared older than when she’d first entered the shop.

“I remember. For years I’ve waited for someone to tap me on the shoulder and say they know what happened that night.”

They sat in silence for a moment as Mercy sipped at her drink.

“How come no one ever came looking for him?” she whispered. “People don’t disappear without questions being asked.”

Levi took a deep breath and blew it out. “I didn’t recognize him. None of us did. I don’t think he was from around here.”

“And the second person didn’t report it—”

“Because he knew he was just as guilty. It would have been like calling the police to complain that your heroin was stolen.”

The two of them and Rose had often repeated this logic to calm their nerves when stress and guilt from the murder threatened to overtake their lives.

“We ended the cycle of attacks back then,” Levi pointed out, leaning toward her across the table. “You or Rose were going to be next. We stopped him.”

“Did we? Because someone is breaking mirrors and killing again.” Mercy stared at him.

“They aren’t after young women. It has to be someone different.”

“I think it’s the second guy. The one who got away,” she whispered.

“You’re jumping to conclusions.”

“Did you know weapons were stolen in the Sanders and Vargas murders? It didn’t stand out back then, but it seems relevant now with the weapons missing from the current three murders.”

Levi rubbed at his beard. “Anyone would have stolen the weapons back then. Have you traced sales of the current weapons?”

“No.” Her shoulders sagged. “We have an analyst working on it. It’s hard when the weapons were probably bought illegally to start with. And I bet some of the purchases go back forty years.”

“Back then it was no big deal to sell a rifle to your neighbor. No one cared. So we’re back to the same question we’ve asked for fifteen years. Who’s the second guy?”

The background music of the café filled the silence between her and Levi. Nancy Wilson’s powerful voice asked in song if she was so afraid of one who was so afraid of her.

“We don’t know how to find him, and he’s afraid of being found.” She stated the obvious.

“Did Rose say more about who she thinks it was?” Levi asked.

“Not when I talked with her yesterday. Most of the town was at the Bevins barbecue the day she thought she heard the voice for the first time. There’s no guarantee she’s remembering that part correctly.” Mercy’s brain started to spin. “She could have heard it in a store . . . or maybe even mixed it up with something on TV . . . we don’t know that was where she heard it.” Anxiety started as a small bud in her chest and quickly bloomed. Rose’s early certainty about where she’d heard the second voice was the catalyst that’d pitted Mercy against her father.

She’d defended her sister’s belief and wanted to go to the Bevins ranch and find the source of the voice. They’d made up a lie, telling her father that Rose had heard a man outside their home and thought someone was about to break in, never revealing to him or the rest of the family that someone had broken in and attacked his daughters.

Her father had declared Rose was mistaken about the voice and refused to allow Mercy to rock his fragile relationship with the powerful rancher. He’d told Mercy to stay silent. When she’d rebelled against the silence, it’d enhanced the problems she already had with her father’s views on the roles of women. At home. In public. For the future. Mercy knew she couldn’t live in the shadow of a man for the rest of her life. Their fights came to a head, and he told her to accept his ways or leave for good.

The family had supported his decision, leaving Mercy ostracized and standing alone with her beliefs.

She made the difficult choice and left Eagle’s Nest, her family, and the only way of life she’d ever known, but her attacker was never far from her thoughts. Memories of him persisted.