A Merciful Silence (Mercy Kilpatrick #4)(74)

She’d been in place that morning before anyone else arrived. Her backpack was stocked for at least three nights in the woods, and she was dressed in waterproof, breathable gear. She wore her most reliable hiking boots and had popped three ibuprofen. She had backups in her pocket. “I know what I’m doing.”

The group was composed of various local officers. Three, including the leader, were from the Bend Police Department, one was a Deschutes County deputy, and one was from the Redmond Police Department. They looked experienced and skeptical.

“Aren’t you the FBI agent who helped bring down that militia?” asked Anna, one of the officers from Bend.

“Yes.”

“She can handle it, Lou,” the woman said. “That was some nasty shit she was in the middle of. I heard about it.”

Mercy met Anna’s gaze and gave a small nod.

“Okay. But if you slow us down, I’m leaving you behind. You armed?”

“Yes.” Mercy touched the side of her jacket.

Lou focused on his map. “We’re about a half mile from where those perps out searching for the kid and the chief reportedly checked in. They claimed they found footprints at one point, so we’re going to operate on the assumption that they’re in the right place, because I don’t know who else would choose to be out in this crappy weather over the past week.

“If we follow the general direction from the place where Truman was held, it appears the two of them are heading here.” Lou circled an area with his finger. “I don’t think they would go any further north, because there’s a wide section of sheer cliffs that you can’t get around. But this is an isolated, sort of protected area. If this mystery kid has a hidden place in the woods, this is where I’d build it. No one goes here.”

Mercy couldn’t disagree with his logic. But there’s so much forest. What if he’s wrong?

They were truly searching for a needle in a haystack.

As they headed out, Mercy fell into the middle of the line, pleased to be doing something.

It finally felt like progress.

I hope my leg doesn’t give out.



“I think we should have waited one more day,” Ollie said, watching Truman catch his breath.

“I just need a moment. I feel pretty strong,” Truman lied as he leaned against a tree for the fourth time that morning. There was no way he was going back to the cabin. He could taste freedom; he had to keep moving forward. “It doesn’t matter if we go a little slow,” he argued. “No one is expecting us.”

He wanted to ask how much farther but knew he wouldn’t like the answer.

Shep touched his nose to Truman’s leg and then went back to sit next to Ollie. Truman wondered if he’d passed the dog’s inspection. Surely the dog couldn’t smell exhaustion, but his eyes looked at Truman in sympathy.

“What will you do when you get rid of me?” Truman asked, stalling for more rest time.

The teen shrugged. “Go back home. Keep preparing for the winter.”

The thought of Ollie spending the winter in his little hut made Truman shudder. No doubt Ollie didn’t mind . . . or did he?

“What would you like to do with your life, Ollie?”

He tilted his head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I guess I’m asking what you want to be when you grow up,” Truman said awkwardly.

“Be? I want to be me.”

“What kind of job would you like to have? You know, like become a doctor or a lawyer or a fireman.” This is the sort of conversation I’d have with a ten-year-old.

“Oh.” Ollie thought hard. “I wouldn’t mind being a teacher. Don’t know what I’d teach, though.”

“I can totally see that.” Truman wasn’t surprised. Ollie had used a calm, steadying manner as he’d taught Truman card games. He was patient, kind, and brave as hell. “You should set that as a goal. You’re a natural to be a teacher.”

“I suppose this is where you talk to me about school again,” the teen said.

“I know you want to learn.”

“True.”

“We’ll make it happen. I promise you, once we’re out of here, I’ll help you explore all your possibilities.” He didn’t want to see the boy live out his life in the woods with a dog.

“You done stalling?”

“Yes,” Truman admitted.

“Let’s go.”



It was midafternoon when Lou halted and held up his hand, making the line of searchers come to a stop. “Ten-minute break.”

Trying not to limp, Mercy took a few steps to lean against a tree trunk. She’d swallowed all her Advil, ignoring the recommended dose. While going down a steep hill, she’d been terrified her leg would buckle under the strain, and Anna had given her a strange look as Mercy wiped heavy sweat from her forehead. No one else was visibly sweating.

At the break, Anna followed Mercy to the tree and removed a bottle of water from her pack. “What’s wrong with your leg?” Anna asked quietly between sips, her lips hidden behind her water bottle.

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit. I vouched for you to come. Am I going to regret it?”

“No,” Mercy said through clenched teeth. “I’m keeping up just fine.”