A Merciful Death (Mercy Kilpatrick #1)(20)

NINE


FBI Special Agent Mercy Kilpatrick followed Truman in her black Tahoe as he led the way to Leighton Underwood’s home.

Even though Leighton was a neighbor of Ned Fahey’s, the route to his home was in a completely different direction. There was no fast way to get there, and Truman suspected Leighton liked it that way.

Remembering Toby Cox’s comparison of Mercy to young Kaylie at the coffee shop, Truman told his phone to dial a number and listened to it ring as he drove. As soon as Toby had mentioned Kaylie, Truman realized why he felt as if he’d seen Mercy before. On the basis of looks, the FBI agent could be Kaylie’s mother. And since they both were named Kilpatrick, Truman had a strong suspicion that she was. He’d heard Levi Kilpatrick’s wife had left him and his baby girl years ago. Now it looked as if she was back in town.

But as an FBI agent?

One woman would know the full story.

“Hello?” Ina Smythe’s frail voice sounded in his car.

“Hi, Ina, it’s Truman.”

“Enunciate clearly, son. It sounds like you’re in a tin can.”

“Sorry about that, I’m in the car. I only have a minute, Ina, but I wanted to ask you about Levi Kilpatrick. What can you tell me about his wife who left?”

Truman had relied on Ina Smythe to help smooth his way into Eagle’s Nest. She’d sat at the front desk in the police station for forty years before retiring six months before Truman was hired. She was the one who’d reached out and told him about the police chief opening. “No one else wants it, Truman. They’ll have to consider an outsider, and you know how that could turn out. You’re sort of a familiar face around here, you’ve got the necessary experience, and we know your uncle Jefferson can pull some weight with the town council. What do you think about moving to Eagle’s Nest permanently?”

He’d been ready for a change.

Ina coughed three times, and it echoed in his vehicle before she answered his question. “Deirdre? She wasn’t his wife. She never married him, although he pushed for it. She took off for southern California somewhere when that little girl was one and left the baby with Levi. Her parents fought to get custody, but the court awarded it to Levi. Darn good decision. Her parents were too full of themselves, and I was glad when they moved not long after that. I don’t know if they keep in touch with their granddaughter or not.”

The name “Deirdre” made Truman deflate. Had she changed her name? If not, where did Mercy Kilpatrick fit in? She had to be a cousin of some sort; there was no denying her resemblance to Kaylie Kilpatrick. But the Kilpatricks had never mentioned any cousins in his presence.

“Does the name Mercy Kilpatrick mean anything to you?” Truman asked.

“Mercy? Mercy Kilpatrick? Where on earth did you hear about her?”

“Then you do know her.” His curiosity shot off the charts.

“Of course I know her. Why do you ask? Who’s talking about that girl?”

“No one’s talking about her. I just met her.”

“She’s here? In town?”

“Yes. Is that a bad thing?”

His vehicle grew silent. “Ina? You there?”

“Yes. I’m thinking . . . I’m trying to remember the whole story . . . but there’s pieces missing.” She colorfully swore, making Truman grin. “I’m trying to get the tale straight in my head, but my memory isn’t what it used to be.”

“Who is she?”

“Why, she’s Karl and Deborah Kilpatrick’s youngest girl.”

Truman nearly missed his turn. He’d heard about only four Kilpatrick siblings. They were very active in the Eagle’s Nest community. No one had breathed a word about a fifth. Mercy wasn’t Kaylie’s mother; she was her aunt.

“But she hasn’t been in town since she finished high school,” Ina continued. “I can’t remember why she left, but everyone in her family was angry and I suspected something was hushed up . . . dammit. What did that girl do?” Ina made a sputtering noise in the phone. “It was something juicy, I’m certain, but I can’t put my finger on it.”

“Well, you answered my question. You can get back to me about the gossip.”

“What’s she doing here?”

“She’s an FBI agent out of Portland. She’s been assigned to Jefferson’s death along with the deaths of Enoch Finch and Ned Fahey. You heard about Ned, right?”

“Of course I did. My memory might not work that great anymore, but my ears work just fine. That old cranky coot probably waved his ax at the wrong person.”

Truman wondered if the ax was a habit of Ned’s he hadn’t heard about.

“But little Mercy Kilpatrick is an FBI agent, you say? That’s got to stick in her father’s craw. He’s not a fan of the federal government.”

“I wouldn’t call her little.” Mercy could nearly look him in the eye. He knew Karl and Deborah ran a small ranch just outside town, and their blind daughter, Rose, lived with them. Their other three adult children were scattered around the county.

And then there was Mercy.

Truman grinned. Mercy hadn’t said a word when Toby brought up Kaylie; she’d pretended not to know whom he meant. In other words, she wasn’t broadcasting her relationship to the Kilpatrick clan. Why?