A Merciful Silence (Mercy Kilpatrick #4)(29)

“Mercy, you’ve got a visitor,” the FBI office manager, Melissa, stated as she stepped through Mercy’s open door.

“Who is it?” Mercy glanced up from her computer screen, where she’d been searching for information on the out-of-state murders that Grady Baldwin had told her about. They existed, but public details were scarce. She’d have to contact sources in both cities for more information.

“She wouldn’t give her name. But she’s got black hair and a Lab with her.”

Britta.

Mercy pushed back her chair and followed Melissa out front. Britta Vale sat in the small waiting area, Zara at her side. Again Mercy noted Britta’s constant stroking of the dog and wondered if the dog always accompanied her. Zara didn’t wear one of the service animal vests that Mercy always viewed with skepticism. Anyone could order a vest off the internet.

The tall woman was dressed for the rain in boots and a hooded jacket, her neck tattoo barely visible. Raindrops glittered on Zara’s fur, and she had wagged her tail as Mercy entered the room. Mercy greeted Britta and patted Zara’s head.

“Can I talk to you outside?” Britta asked as she glanced at Melissa, who’d returned to her desk behind a glass window.

“It’s raining,” said Mercy, curious as to what the woman wanted. “Why don’t you come to my office?”

“I’d rather not. Right outside the door is a covered area.”

Mercy agreed and buttoned up her thick cardigan as she followed Britta. Outdoors, the woman had a hard time looking Mercy in the eye. “What is it?” Mercy finally asked.

Britta took a breath and met Mercy’s gaze. “Someone was outside my home last night. Do you know who it was?”

Mercy stiffened. “No. What happened? Did they threaten you or do some damage?”

“Nothing happened. I think they left when Zara barked.” The woman’s throat moved as she swallowed. “I’d hoped you’d know if it was some sort of police investigation.”

“They would have come to your front door like I did. Why do you suspect the police?”

“I don’t. I just hoped . . . I don’t like to think of the alternative.” She bent over to rub Zara’s head.

“Tell me what happened,” Mercy ordered.

Grady Baldwin said his brother kept tabs on Britta through the internet. Has he changed to doing it in person?

“It was about two in the morning. Zara went crazy barking and jumping at the front door. I’d installed a lot of outside lights, so I have a good view right around the house. I looked out, expecting to see a coyote or cougar, but I didn’t see anything.” She swallowed again. “But I couldn’t see beyond the lighted area. It was pitch-dark last night.”

Mercy waited. She wouldn’t come to me with a possible coyote sighting.

“This morning, when I let Zara out, she immediately headed to the orchard on the east side of the house. I had her on a leash because I didn’t want her taking off after a cougar trail.”

“What did you find?”

“Boot prints under a tree. I don’t think they got any closer to the house than that.”

“That was plenty close. Could you see more tracks?”

“I followed them for a little bit, going in the direction of the main road, but then the prints disappeared because the rain washed them away except for right under the trees.”

“Did Zara try to follow the prints?”

“She led me all the way to the road, where she stopped. I think they parked on the road and walked in.”

“Someone knew exactly where they were going,” Mercy added.

It’s the right decision to contact Grady’s brother soon.

She was pleased Britta had come to her with her concern. Even if Britta didn’t admit it, on some level the woman trusted her. “How is the security at your home?”

“The best. It’s the one thing I sank money into before moving in. I don’t rent a place unless the owner agrees that I can add new locks, outside lights, and a security system. I need it for peace of mind.”

Mercy understood the turmoil on Britta’s face. She had her own needs for peace of mind. Knowing that her cabin wasn’t rebuilt yet was giving her a low level of constant stress. The supplies are still up there. And makeshift sleeping quarters.

But it wasn’t the same as the solid four walls of her cabin.

“What are you going to do?” Mercy asked.

Frustration crossed Britta’s face. “I don’t want to move again already. I’m prepared to protect myself if needed.”

Mercy frowned. “Britta . . . do you have a suspicion of who it was?”

“No.”

Her answer was too quick for Mercy. And most people wouldn’t consider moving just because they’d found the footprints of a prowler. She decided to take a risk. “Britta, have you ever been contacted by Grady Baldwin?”

Her gaze flew to Mercy’s, and Mercy knew she was about to lie. But Britta pressed her lips together for several seconds. “A long time ago he sent letters to my aunt. I was still a kid. My aunt didn’t tell me about them, but I found them. I think she reported them to the police, because they stopped.”

“You didn’t tell your aunt you found them?”