A Merciful Promise (Mercy Kilpatrick #6)(58)

“Group?” Truman prompted, tamping down the anger that threatened to distract him.

“Antigovernment, living on an isolated compound,” supplied Bolton.

The hair rose on Truman’s arms. “Where?” he choked out.

It can’t be the same.

Bolton frowned and gave him an odd look. “Darrell’s not sure. Somewhere east of here. Closer to Pendleton or John Day.”

“What does this have to do with your brother’s murder?” Truman asked Darrell.

Discomfort flashed. “I talked to Stephen about a month ago. He told me about the place he was living in. He sounded cocky and pleased, and said this group was going to stand up to the government and get what they wanted—”

“What did this group want?” Truman cut in.

“I don’t know exactly,” Darrell said. “Stephen was being secretive and smug about it. I think the only reason he called me was to sell me some rifles. Said he had access to several and asked if I was interested. Promised me a fantastic price and rattled off a half dozen different types he could sell me. When I asked where the weapons came from, he got defensive. ‘What kind of brother do you think I am?’ and that sort of bullshit. He said he was trying to raise money—that his friends were legitimate dealers. I didn’t believe him and told him so. His records as a minor are sealed, but he was arrested a few times for breaking and entering, and the only thing he stole was weapons.” Darrell shook his head. “Even when he was young, he was always after a fast buck.

“Then he talked again about how his group was going to get the government off their backs and make the US a better place for Americans. More cocky crap I didn’t need to hear. So I threatened to call the police—I wouldn’t really. I just wanted to shake him up a little bit. It sounded like a stupid place to be, and it was the only thing I could think of that might make him leave. He’s always been one to protect his own ass. Anyway, his demeanor and tone changed when I mentioned the police. He sounded scared. He warned me not to, saying the last guy who’d gotten shit from his family back home had disappeared.”

Our first John Doe?

“What happened to the last guy?” Truman asked, steel in his voice.

“Stephen said he didn’t know, but he’d heard a rumor that the man’s body had been used as a message to warn his family to back off.”

Truman met Bolton’s eyes. “The first unidentified male?”

“Possibly.”

Looking back at Darrell, Truman asked, “So your brother was murdered and dumped as a message for you not to report this antigovernment group? That doesn’t sound right.”

Darrell pulled at the sleeves of his shirt, his hands unable to hold still. He plunged them back in his pockets. “I think he tried to get out,” he admitted. “By the end of our call, I felt like he was listening to me.”

“They killed two birds with one stone. The murder was a threat to keep you quiet, and they got rid of a member who was causing problems.” Truman narrowed his eyes at the brother. “What made you finally speak to us?”

Darrell lifted his chin. “I decided, ‘Fuck them.’ They can come after me if they want. But I’m going to keep hounding them and demand they be investigated until the police take notice.” Fury flashed in his red-rimmed eyes. “He was an idiot, but he was my brother. No one deserves to die like that. Now are you guys going to do something about that group?”

Truman’s lips lifted at the corners, but it wasn’t a smile. Too much shit had happened that day for him to smile. And it kept piling on.

“Would you believe the FBI and ATF are already on it?” Truman pointed at the group across the lot.

To what lengths will this group go to protect themselves?

He prayed it wasn’t too late for Mercy.



Truman arrived home to pack an overnight bag and realized he was already prepared. Thanks to Mercy’s influence, he had a small GOOD bag ready to go in his vehicle and a larger one at home. He grabbed the big one and added additional heavy clothing. He told Ollie he was needed out of town, and that he’d be back in a few days. “Order a pizza and take it to Kaylie’s,” he told the teen. “Mercy’s been gone four days, and I think she’d like someone to hang out with.” He made an excuse to his officers and promised Lucas to check in the next day.

Bolton had gone back to the Deschutes County office to take another look at the first murdered John Doe. If Darrell Palmer was correct that the group had killed another man as a warning to his family, then there was a good chance that the first John Doe’s family was staying under the radar, terrified to identify their relative in case the group turned on them. Bolton strongly suspected that his family lived on the property where the first body had been dumped. Or at least nearby.

The ATF had jumped on Darrell Palmer’s story. Now they had a reference from outside the compound that America’s Preserve was planning something big. Based on Darrell’s conversation with his brother, the theory that the group was selling the stolen guns to raise money gained traction.

But the nature and location of the big event were still a mystery.

Truman made the four-hour trip with Jeff and Eddie to Ukiah, and then they turned south to head into the national forest. As they gained elevation, patches of snow started to appear along the road. By the time they reached the base camp near 6:00 p.m., the ground had a five-inch layer of snow, and more was in the forecast for the next several days.