My Heart’s Home by Kris Michaels

Chapter 15

Mercy spent the morning inside the tent with Destiny. They folded their meager belongings, packing them up. Mercy did the same for Cam's clothes, placing them in his backpack.

"Do you think I'll get my own room?" Destiny laid out her best shirt and folded it carefully.

"I would expect so. He said he had a house." She hadn't asked about details. Not knowing too much was a defense mechanism. If the dream shattered, she didn't want to know what she'd lost.

"Are we taking the blankets?" Dezzy moved and sat on top of the tired, worn cloth. They were lucky. Some only had the clothes on their backs.

She shook her head. "We should leave them for the others."

"Do you think we'll leave today?" Dezzy asked as she watched Mercy fiddle with Cam's things.

"I hope so, but that depends on how busy Cam is with what is going on down there." The truck had been loaded onto a flatbed the last time she’d looked as she fed the burn barrel. The black and white units had thinned out, but more black SUVs had arrived.

Dezzy hummed. "Mom, he's not going to be like Ian, right?"

Mercy stopped messing with Cam's backpack and closed her eyes. "Cam is nothing like Ian." She opened her eyes again and smiled at her daughter. "Cam loves us. Ian never did. How about we read to make the time pass quicker?"

Dezzy reached for the small stack of books and handed Mercy the vampire novel she'd been reading while she chose a Viking romance.

She pointed to Dezzy with her book. "Skip the sex stuff."

Dezzy snorted. "This one doesn't have a lot."

"That wasn't a ‘yes, ma'am.’" Mercy lifted an eyebrow.

"Fine, yes, ma'am." Dezzy flopped down on the blankets and opened her book. Mercy did the same. Only her mind wasn't on the words on the page. It was with the man at the bottom of the hill who'd stolen her heart.

"Mercy." Bull's voice outside the tent startled her a bit. She put down the book, lifted her hood into place, and hurried out the flap.

Bull nodded to the burn barrel, and they stepped away from the tent. "What's wrong?" She whispered the question. All the police vehicles were gone and so were all the men from earlier.

"Nothing. Cam came over before he left. He has to go downtown to write his reports and answer questions because he shot the guy. Internal Affairs requirement. He told me to tell you he'd be back as soon as he was free. He wants you to be ready so that he can take you and Dezzy home." Bull cleared his throat. "He offered to take me in, too. Get me to the right places for assistance."

Mercy wrapped one arm around Bull and gave him a sideways hug. "You deserve a chance, too, Bull."

"Did I ever tell you I had a family?"

Mercy looked up at him. "No. What happened?"

"I came home from over there messed up. My body and my mind. I was so angry at everything and everyone. Finally, my wife couldn't take my drinking. She took my son and left. I couldn't hold a job, lost everything. I blamed everyone and everything for my problems. I couldn't face the fact I needed help. I thought their love was pity."

Mercy searched for anything to say to support her friend. "But you don't drink now."

Bull shook his head. "Nope. Got off it. Too late to help much. I still lost everything."

"But you could get it back, or a semblance of it. Take Cam up on his offer, Bull. He's a good man."

Bull nodded. "Wonder who will watch out for things here?"

Mercy gazed over the camp. "They'll have to figure it out. You know nothing here is permanent."

Bull nodded. "Do you think she'd talk to me?" The question was asked to the universe, but Mercy nodded.

"She loved you once, Bull. Will you be able to fix what was broken? Maybe not, but it will give you both closure. She'll know that you're going to be okay, and you'll be able to show them that you overcame your problems. How old is your son?"

"He'd be sixteen now. Almost a man."

"Almost. He may have questions. Hard questions." Mercy didn't envy Bull's position. Talking with Destiny was difficult. Guilt still ate at her. "Being honest is so damn hard."

"It is, but I've stopped blaming others. I am responsible for all of it. Her leaving and taking my son. I did that. I'm owning it."

"That's all we can do. I told Dezzy about my mistakes, about why I made the decisions I did, and about what hindsight has taught me. She knows almost everything. Some things she'll never learn."

Bull pitched another piece of wood into the barrel. "How bad was it?"

Mercy sighed and looked into the flames. "He would have killed me eventually. He started hitting Destiny. That's what made me leave."

"Family?"

She shook her head. "I grew up with my aunt. I got pregnant with Destiny in my senior year of high school. Aunt Kelsey, who was my mom's best friend, no blood relation, received an amazing job opportunity in Arizona. I was twenty-three with a five-year-old, my own apartment, paying my own bills, and doing well. She didn't need to stick around. I had a great job as a hostess at one of the upscale restaurants over in Briar Hills. I worked there for a long time, and I loved it. Then I met Ian."

"You couldn't have gone to Arizona when…"

"Kelsey got married, and she and her husband moved to St. Thomas. He sold the company she worked for, and they travel all over. But I still tried to contact her before Ian turned off my cell phone. I left messages. I tried to downplay what was happening most of the time, but I was so scared, and I didn't want her to know. I was so embarrassed. Still, the last call, I asked for help. I told her I thought he was going to kill me." She shrugged. "Ian had isolated Dezzy and me. My friends drifted away. I didn't see it when it was happening. But looking back, I can."

She could see it with crystal clarity. The times he got mad when she wanted to spend time with her friends. Dezzy's friends were never good enough. He didn't like the parents or didn't want the kids in his house and was against Dezzy staying overnight at their house. And when the beatings started, he apologized. He swore he'd never do it again. There was a cycle to his violence, and she'd learned when to walk on eggshells and when to keep Dezzy in her room. Most of the time, that worked.

Most of the time.

When she went to the hospital because she couldn't breathe, broken ribs, the hospital staff convinced her to finally report him. It turns out a cop with a domestic violence incident on their records had to be fired. Had she known that, she wouldn't have gone back to his house. How had she ever believed that Ian would stop? Why did she think making a report would make matters better? That he'd see her as the person she was instead of the beating post he'd made her into? She was such a fool.

* * *

Cam glanced at his watch again. The FBI's interview had been quick and concise, the process at the Hope City Police Department not so much. He'd given his initial statement and then used a borrowed laptop to type it up, going into finite detail about his assignment, who he'd met, and the interactions he had, etcetera—Punt, Bull, Enzo, Mercy, Dina, and everything he could remember about the three men who'd died the same night as Dina. The ten-page, single-line, typed, ten-point font statement left very little out. He admitted to having a relationship with Mercy in his statement. He wasn't going to lie about that, and if it cost him his job, he had skills, and he had savings. They'd be okay.

IA had been in and questioned him at length. He sighed and shifted in the chair again. That's when the District Attorney, Steve Cain, came into the small room where he'd been waiting.

“Congratulations, Mr. Freeland. Your work paid off. I’m putting you in for a commendation. You went over and above, and because of you, we once again have access to information that will help us convict Faber and hopefully garner any of his assets for repayment to those from whom he’d taken unmerciful advantage.”

“What about the FBI? I thought they were going to try to take Mitchell.” It had been a long day, but he remembered Folsom, and that man wasn’t going to give up without a fight.

“The FBI is insistent, but this isn’t my first rodeo. We’ve worked out an arrangement with Mitchell that he won’t be tried for involvement on the domestic terrorist charges as long as he comes clean on everything, both the federal and our local charges. The man is singing like a bird.”

“What about his family?”

“Pulled out of the little house in suburbia where they'd fled. Now they're safely tucked away with the US Marshals. We learned from the last debacle. The DA’s office does the handoff.” Mr. Cain rubbed his cheek. “Commissioner King is doing a hell of a job, but the corruption in HCPD is entrenched. At least now we have hope.”

Cam sighed. “Good. Is there anything else, sir? I need to get back to the Cottages and pick up several people.”

Cain’s eyes popped wide. “Our assets?”

“No, sir, I met a woman while I was there. She has nothing to do with the investigation, but I detailed my contacts here. Page seven.” He handed the statement he’d written to the man.

Caintook a seat and started to skim the document. The DA looked up at him and then back down to the statement.

"Is there something wrong, sir?" Cam watched the color drain from the man's face.

"Mercy Cahill? She's about thirty, with red hair? Her daughter Destiny should be twelve or so now?"

Cam's eyes narrowed, not liking the direction this conversation was going, but he nodded. "Destiny is thirteen."

"Son of a fucking bitch." The string of cuss words from the distinguished man launched Cam's eyebrows up to his hairline.

"Sir?"

"How long have you been back in Hope City?"

"Five, almost six months, sir."

“Hired right after you got out of the service?”

“Yes, sir.” What in the hell was going on?

"Then you wouldn't have known." The DA shoved his chair back and stood up, promptly pacing back and forth. "That son of a bitch was telling the truth."

Cam moved uneasily. "You aren't making sense, sir."

The DA stopped and stared at him. "Probably not. Wait here. I'll be back."

Cam grabbed the DA by the arm. "I don't think so, sir. Is Mercy safe?"

The DA blinked at him and nodded. "Safer than she could ever imagine. Ian Patterson is currently serving four life sentences." Almost to himself, he muttered, "They didn't find any bones of a child. That's why."

Cam dropped his hand. "Bones? What in the hell?"

"I'll tell you everything. But right now, I need to make some phone calls."