A Merciful Promise (Mercy Kilpatrick #6)(38)

“It sounds like they’re hiding something. We need to take a closer look,” she stated. “How heavy are the night patrols?”

Chad halted and spun toward her. “Did you not hear me a minute ago? Slow down.”

She leaned closer. “You’ve been here for a month and hardly know anything. I think you need to speed up. I can’t wait around for information to fall into my lap. We need to be proactive.”

“Like you were by medicating that kid without his father’s permission? Stepping all over Beckett’s toes? That’s not how it works.” A banked fury simmered in his eyes. “This isn’t a race.”

“If they have the stolen weapons from the ATF raid, they could be selling them to finance this big plan you keep hearing rumors about.”

Hesitation wavered in his eyes.

Mercy felt it in her gut. “What is it?” she hissed. “You’ve heard something.”

His throat moved as he swallowed and took a quick check of their surroundings, his gaze pausing on Sean several yards away. “It could be nothing.”

“You don’t believe that.” She heard it in his voice and saw it in the tension of his jaw.

“I’ve heard the new garage has some smaller rooms inside. Rooms with heavy locks.”

“For what?”

“Don’t know. Everyone is hush-hush about specifics, but their voices change when they whisper about it.” He pressed his lips together.

“Why didn’t you say that a minute ago when you were talking about the building?”

“I forgot.”

Tension rose in Mercy’s throat. They were partners. Why did he seem so determined to hold back?

“That’s where the weapons could be.”

“Could be,” Chad agreed. “But it feels too obvious. I would think someone as sharp as Pete would have a better storage location than smack in the middle of his compound. He believes the government will try to clear out America’s Preserve at some point. That’s why we have the drills.”

“I’m not surprised,” said Mercy. “He’s suspicious of everyone.” She moved closer and rested her head against Chad’s shoulder. “Which direction is the satellite phone?”

“East,” he said almost soundlessly. “It’s marked with rocks near the ridge of the gulch. The sentries would have to veer off their usual patrols to see someone dig it up.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I’ve watched them.”

“Recently?”

“No, during the first week or two I was here.”

“They must occasionally change their routes. I don’t see Pete allowing the same patrol routes week after week.”

Chad said nothing, but she felt his muscles tense under her touch.

“You’ve checked all the buildings and never came across any of the stolen weapons?” she asked.

“Correct.”

“I can’t ask any residents about weapons,” Mercy mused. “But I think my curiosity and some questions about the new garage might be normal. Especially since I want to know when they’ll build quarters for couples.”

“You’ve got to be subtler around everyone. Especially Pete and Beckett,” Chad said, his lips close to her ear.

“I’ll work on it.” She believed she had more leeway as the newcomer. But she didn’t share that thought with Chad.

“There’s an all-company meeting at seven tonight,” said Chad.

“What for?”

He gave a half shrug. “Pete schedules them when he has something to say. Announcements. Propaganda. Attendance is always mandatory,” he added, meeting her gaze. “Don’t be late.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“It’s best not to ask questions during them.”

“Is that a recommendation for me or everyone?”

“Everyone. But especially for you. You’ve made enough waves lately.”

“I’ll be there with my mouth shut,” she promised.





FIFTEEN

The whipping was over, but Ed’s screams from the lash ripping open his skin echoed in Mercy’s head and would haunt her dreams tonight.

Forcing his people to watch a man be tortured and shriek had been Pete’s definition of a meeting.

The whipping had been a level-two punishment for possession of a cell phone. Mercy’s ration withholding was a level-one penalty. She’d stupidly assumed level two would be confinement or something similar. Not disfigurement and pain.

Now she understood Chad’s warnings.

Pete had ordered Chad to control her during the whipping. It’d taken all her effort not to rush Pete to stop the abuse.

Would she and Chad have been next if she had?

Mercy leaned against a tree and fought to keep her stomach contents down. Chad stood beside her, gently rubbing her shoulder. She wanted to push his hand away. The physical touch of his comforting gesture was nearly unbearable.

Two men had dragged the unconscious Ed away. Mercy had expected to be ordered to treat his wounds, but Pete had shaken his head as she met his gaze.

Does Ed need stitches? Will he develop an infection?

Forget any pain control.

Another dizzying rush narrowed her vision, and she finally shoved Chad’s hand off her shoulder. “I can’t be touched right now,” she forced out from between clenched teeth.