A Merciful Silence (Mercy Kilpatrick #4)(71)

“Is he dead?” she croaked, feeling herself split in two.

“He doesn’t know. But he thinks he knows where he was at one point.”

She jerked back to reality. This call could have been worse. “I’ll be there in half an hour.”



This is Joshua Forbes?

Mercy had spent a lot of time online and in person searching for the man who’d threatened Truman, and for some reason she hadn’t expected a quiet young man in a grimy sweatshirt. He had the same eye color as his father, Kenneth—a piercing blue. But he didn’t project the ramrod-up-the-spine confidence that his father did. In fact, he looked like a beaten dog.

He’s supposed to help us find Truman?

Mercy and Joshua sat in the tiny conference room in the Eagle’s Nest Police Department. Officer Samuel Robb stood against the wall, his thumbs tucked in his gun belt, his gaze never leaving Joshua.

“He swears he doesn’t know anything about Clint Moody’s disappearance, but he told me what he knows about Truman,” Samuel said to Mercy. “I want him to go through it again for you.” He nudged Joshua’s chair with his foot, startling him.

“Where have you been for the past couple of weeks?” Mercy asked. “A lot of people have been searching for you.”

“I’ve been at a friend’s. Several friends’. I didn’t want to stay in one place too long.”

“Why do you need to hide?”

Joshua glanced nervously at Samuel. Mercy didn’t blame him; the cop was intimidating.

“I got threats while I was in jail.”

“Why?”

“People were pissed that I was arrested. They didn’t want to me to talk to anyone.”

“Talk about what?” She was ready to crawl out of her skin with impatience. Samuel had told her there was no need to rush to the location Joshua believed Truman had been, but he hadn’t told her why not.

Joshua gave a heavy sigh. “Our business. I’m part of a business, and they found out that the police knew I was a distributor. They thought I had told the police—but I didn’t!”

“Distributor. Are you talking about the IDs, or are you a drug dealer too?”

“No, those stupid IDs and license plates,” answered Samuel with scorn. “Apparently someone was making a lot of money and didn’t want it to end.”

Mercy remembered how Truman had originally pulled Joshua over for the plates.

“You sent Truman a letter saying he owed you three million dollars,” she stated. “That had us looking for you when Truman disappeared, even though you got out a few hours after we think he vanished. Then you disappeared. That didn’t look good.”

“I didn’t have anything to do with his disappearance,” he said earnestly, meeting her gaze. “I didn’t even know he was missing. I was just trying to protect my own ass.”

“You’ve got people upset with you?”

His chin dropped. “I don’t trust them,” he mumbled.

“Why not?”

Joshua didn’t answer and stared at the tabletop.

“Where’s Truman?” Her heart hammered against her ribs.

“I don’t know,” he said. “But two days ago I heard a rumor that he’d escaped—but I swear I didn’t know they had him in the first place.”

“The people who head up your forgery business took Truman?” She glanced over at Samuel, who hadn’t blinked an eye. How can he be so calm? She was ready to dash out the door.

“I think they did. All I know is that I overheard a couple of guys talking about the cop who got away.”

“When? When did he get away?” She stood up, planted her hands on the table, and leaned toward Joshua, trying to hide her shaking arms.

“It was at least five days ago.”

Mercy froze. Five days? She slowly sat back down. “Then where is he?”

Joshua looked tormented. “I don’t know. I didn’t know who they were talking about until I heard something about the missing police chief on the radio. As soon as I realized that the guy who’d arrested me was missing, I knew that’s who they were talking about.”

“When did you figure this out?”

“Maybe a day or two ago. I didn’t know if I should do something or not. I didn’t want to get in more trouble with them, but . . .”

“But what?” Mercy wanted to shake him. This story was taking forever to come out.

“I know what they do,” he whispered. He slowly lifted his gaze back to hers. “They’ve killed people who wanted to get out of their organization.”

“Were they going to kill Truman?”

“If they were keeping him where I think they were, they were definitely planning to.”

“Where is it?”

Joshua told her about a remote property where one of the members of the forgery ring lived. It had an outbuilding where they’d locked up men before.

“What are we waiting for?” she snapped at Samuel, getting to her feet again.

“We’re waiting for a warrant and support,” Samuel said firmly. “I’m not rushing into a remote situation where armed banjo-playing bumpkins are running their own mini prison. County is pulling together their SWAT team for us.” He checked the time. “That takes some time. It’s going to be dark out there by then, Mercy. You need to be prepared that SWAT might want to wait and go in during the daylight.”