No Mercy Read Online Free Page B

my life could get more complicated or out of my control.
    Famous last words.

THREE
    The next morning my edgy feeling continued. For years my life had been scheduled down to the nanosecond. During rare downtime I reconnected with my family. Revived my sex life. Hit the firing range.
    Spending the day between the sheets with a naked man wasn’t an option. I’d endured as much family time as I could stand. That left one thing. I pulled my guns out from beneath the bed.
    Although I’d already cleaned them, I double-checked anyway. I shoved the ammo in the duffel bag alongside the gun cases and zipped it shut.
    Sophie turned from the sink when I hit the last creaky stair tread. Her eyes zeroed in on the bag. “How many times do I have to tell you? I can do your laundry.”
    “It’s not laundry. I’m going out for a little while to shoot.”
    “Good thing Hope isn’t here to see you hauling around a bag of guns, eh?”
    “Probably.”
    “She still has nightmares,” Sophie said.
    My hand momentarily stilled on the shoulder strap of my little black bag of death. I turned away and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. As I uncapped it and drank, my neck burned from Sophie’s hawklike eyes boring into me. I couldn’t blame her for her overprotective instinct when it came to my little sister. We all felt sickened and guilty for what’d happened years ago, and yes, I knew Hope still had nightmares. We all did.
    Sophie made a harrumphing noise. “You’re exactly like your father when it comes to dealing with stuff, Mercy. Anyway, I wanna ask you about something else.”
    I faced Sophie and couldn’t keep the grumpiness at bay. “What?”
    “You thought any more about talking to Estelle? She called me at home last night.”
    “About what?”
    “About you helping find out what happened to Albert.”
    I forced myself to count to ten. “No, I haven’t thought about it. I don’t know why she’s pestering you anyway. Why does it matter that Albert was found on our land?”
    “Mebbe she sees it as your land, your responsibility.”
    “Have her take her concerns to Dawson. That’s his job—his responsibility—not mine. Besides, it’s not like I don’t have enough to do around here.”
    “You?” Sophie’s eyebrows lifted. “And here I thought you was passing everything off to my poor, overworked grandson, eh?”
    “You really want to get into Jake’s job description with me, Sophie?”
    She sighed. “I don’t know what happened to you, Mercy. Now you and Jake don’t talk about nothing.”
    “So?”
    “So, you never used to be like this.”
    “Like what?”
    “Cold. Hard. Mean. Unforgiving.”
    Sophie and Hope knew how to push my buttons. Rather than take the high road, I loomed over her. “I’m exactly who I always was, so don’t go coloring the past rosy and painting me as some Pollyanna who turned evil when I left the stabilizing influences of home and hearth. I’ve had darkness and secrets inside me since the day my mother died. The only difference is now I don’t try to hide them.”
    A bleak expression flitted through her black eyes.
    I didn’t feel like appeasing her. And I sure as hell wasn’t about to explain myself any more than I already had. “Forget it. I’ll be back later.”
    Sophie gave me one last wounded look before she returned to the dirty breakfast dishes.
    The ATVs were missing, which meant Jake and the ranch hands weren’t around. He’d left my dad’s old Ford 250 diesel backed up to the barn door. Too much trouble to unload the posthole digger, roll of barbed wire, and assorted tools cluttered in the truck bed. I shinnied up the thick nylon rope dangling from the rafters in the barn. From the open hayloft door, I heaved a hay bale on top of everything and rappelled down.
    In the pasture, I maneuvered the truck around rock piles and holes, swerving hard to avoid a rusted car door from a ’57 Buick propped up like the start of Carhenge, the quirky tourist spot in