A Merciful Secret (Mercy Kilpatrick #3)(24)

Mercy nodded, understanding Hannah’s reluctance. This generation of children would never know what life had been like before the Internet, video games, and social media. Morrigan had been innocent and pure. A rarity.

Survival without electricity and modern amenities was bred into Mercy’s bones. But every day it grew harder to stay on her toes, ready to respond if the electrical grid failed or a catastrophic natural disaster occurred. Some days she needed to vegetate in a jetted tub and watch movies on Netflix and forget that these luxuries could vanish in the blink of an eye. The relaxation never lasted long; awareness of an alternate harsh reality always simmered just below her skin.

“She’s a good kid,” Hannah continued. “Polite and kind. She wept over her grandmother, but has a strong faith that she’s moved on to a better place. She said her grandmother had a lot of pain.”

“Has she mentioned her mother?”

“She says she’ll be back soon. It doesn’t disturb her at all that she hasn’t called. She does wish her mother could have said good-bye to her grandmother . . . and sent her off with ‘words of guidance.’” Hannah paused. “That’s exactly how she said it. It was such an odd phrase for a child her age.”

“Hello, Morrigan,” Mercy said.

Both girls spun around, and Morrigan’s eyes lit up as she spotted Mercy. “Hi, Mercy. Did you see what I did to her hair?” The girl pointed at the screen, delight on her face. She wore flannel pajamas patterned with cat faces, similar to the pajamas Jenny wore. Both sported matching braids, and Mercy wondered if they’d done each other’s hair.

Mercy had done that with Rose.

“Does she have to leave now?” Jenny asked, her eyes pleading for Mercy not to take away her playmate. Morrigan’s expression mirrored her new friend’s.

“No. I’m just here to visit and see how you’re doing.” Clearly she’s in a good spot. A weight lifted from her shoulders; she hadn’t realized she carried stress about Morrigan’s safety.

“Have you heard from my mom?” Morrigan asked.

“Not yet.”

“Okay.” Morrigan turned to Jenny. “Let’s find her a ball gown.”

Mercy exchanged a look with Hannah. No anxiety in that child.

The two of them headed back toward the front door. “She’s amazingly well adjusted,” said Hannah. “I’ve had a number of temporary fosters and usually they’re emotional and scared. It’s almost eerie that she’s doing so well.”

“Do you think she’s avoiding the feelings?”

Hannah thought. “I don’t think so,” she said slowly. “She was very open with her sorrow about her grandmother, and she exudes confidence about her mother’s return. I think she’s simply a resilient, well-grounded kid.”

“Knows how to roll with the punches.” Mercy approved. Morrigan had held it together quite well during their emotional hours together. Mercy’s admiration for the child grew.

Along with her determination to find the mother.

She thanked the kind woman, who emphasized that Mercy was welcome to return at any time, but Hannah’s gaze faltered as the sentence left her mouth.

Unspoken words hung between them; if Mercy had to return, it meant there was a major issue with Morrigan’s mother.





TEN

Mercy drove to the medical examiner’s office, pleased that Morrigan was in a good place.

Eddie had texted her as she left Hannah’s home, asking her to meet him and Ava at the examiner’s office. The ME wanted to discuss her findings and had specifically asked if Mercy could be present since she’d been at the death.

Her cell phone rang through the speakers in her Tahoe as she drove. Mercy glanced at the screen on her dashboard. Truman.

Happy butterflies fluttered in her stomach. At what point in a relationship does that feeling go away?

Truman filled up the lonely and vulnerable parts of her brain. The subtle scent of his aftershave, the shadow on his jaw every evening, the heaviness of his hand at her waist. It wasn’t all physical. Truman understood her; he got her. He’d seen her deepest fears and accepted them. She didn’t scare him.

She accepted the call. “Hey,” she said. “How’s your morning?”

“Interesting. Yours?”

She gave him a positive update on Morrigan.

“Did you meet the reporter from The Oregonian yesterday?” he asked in a restrained voice.

Mercy looked at her dashboard as if she could read Truman’s face. “I did. Ava later vouched for him. Why?”

“He paid me a visit and suggested that the investigators look into a mystery visitor at Judge Lake’s office. He claims someone was there one of the days before he died and it was kept off the visitor log. He said the judge’s assistant knows more than she’s told investigators.”

“Why did he tell you? That makes no sense. And how on earth would he know that?”

“Trust me, I asked the exact same questions and got convoluted answers. Let’s just say it makes sense in Brody’s head. Can you pass the tip on to Eddie?”

“I’m on my way to meet with him and Ava now.”

“Good. Gotta go. I love you,” he said in a low, warm voice infused with innuendo.