A Merciful Death (Mercy Kilpatrick #1)(104)

Kaylie looked her in the eye. “Promise?”

“Absolutely.”



Truman watched Mercy hug her niece as he waited his turn in the receiving line.

He wanted to skip it and escape like Mercy, but the chief of police had a duty. He took his turn, shaking hands, hugging the women and repeating his “I’m sorry for your loss” line until he felt blue in the face. He shook the last hand and stepped away.

“Hey, Truman.” Mike Bevins fell into step with him, and he stopped to shake another hand.

No escape yet.

“I know this is the wrong time to bring it up, but I’m hearing some rumors and I thought I’d run them by you.”

“What’d you hear?” Truman asked cautiously. He’d been interviewed several times about the shooting at Ned Fahey’s home, but the public still asked him questions.

Mike looked down at his boots. “Did Craig really say that he killed those men because he wanted to be next in line for my father’s business?” His shoulders slumped.

Truman took a breath. “Yeah, he told Rose that. That was news to you?”

“In a way.” Mike finally met his gaze. “He was always a half step behind me, you know? Craig wasn’t a talker, but when he did, he often asked about my future plans and encouraged me to move to Portland and start teaching those survival classes. I didn’t realize it was because he wanted me out of the way.”

“Is your father here?” Truman asked.

“No. His health has taken a turn for the worse.”

“I’m sorry, Mike. What are you going to do?”

Mike turned to look at the receiving line, where Owen Kilpatrick stood next to his father. “For now I’m going to be what my father needs me to be. But I won’t let it rule my life.”

“You could do both. Run the ranch and teach.”

“I know,” he said. “But I’d hoped for a clean break.” His blue eyes met Truman’s. “There will be some changes at the ranch when my father dies. There are some aspects of his philosophy that I don’t care to continue.”

No more preparing for the end of the world at the Bevins ranch?

Truman wondered how the loss of that pillar would rock the rest of the town. “Good luck. I’m here if you need me.” He held out his hand.

Mike was solemn as he took the hand. “I know. Thank you, Truman.” He left to join a circle of men waiting for him. Truman watched him go, wondering how heavily those men leaned on Mike Bevins. They might have a few changes coming.

Mercy was now alone under the pine, and he headed in her direction. He’d been sitting two rows behind her at the service, watching as she held Rose’s hand and feeling oddly disconnected. He and Mercy had been together almost nonstop since the shooting. He liked it that way.

He approached, admiring her green eyes that’d watched him walk across the graveyard. Her mouth turned up in a smile as he got closer, and he was stunned at how attracted he was to her. They still hadn’t spoken about their situation.

Do we have a situation?

They did. But neither of them had been ready to address it. Instead they’d been silent, leaning on each other as she grieved, rarely leaving each other’s side. He’d wanted to show he would always be there when needed. Even though there’d been no words, he’d seen the understanding dawn in her eyes. He’d spotted the knowing looks from her mother and the other women in town: Truman Daly was off the market.

He’d known it for a while, but Mercy was just catching on.

He held out his hand as he approached, and she took it.

“Can you get me out of here?” she asked.

“Where to?”

“I want to climb a mountain.”



It wasn’t really a mountain, Mercy admitted. But the hike up the peak behind Owlie Lake was exactly what she needed.

She and Truman spent the next two hours hunting for bones.

They found nothing.

On a rock overlooking the vast view, they finally took a break.

“I guess we’ll never know the location of Kenny’s body,” Mercy said, turning her face up to soak in the sun.

“Or his last name,” Truman said. “I’ve searched missing person records in the western half of the United States, but short of asking Mike Bevins for employment records from fifteen years ago, I don’t know what else to do.”

“Both of the guilty parties have paid the price.”

“I agree.”

“Thank you for keeping my and Rose’s secret.”

He shrugged. “Does it go against my grain? Yes. But more people will be hurt if I speak up. Especially now.” He took her hand. “I don’t mind doing this for you.”

She squeezed his hand and studied his eyes. He was sincere. An old weight slowly lifted from her shoulders, one she’d been carrying for a long time. Was it because Craig was dead? Or from confiding in Truman? Now he carried half her burden.

“What will you do with Jefferson’s house?” she asked.

“I’ll hang on to it for now. I’m not ready to sell.”

“You had your uncle’s killer in your hands at the Fahey house.”

“I did,” Truman admitted. “Looking back, I’m proud I didn’t simply watch him bleed to death. I suspect if I’d had time to think about it, I might have let it happen.”