My Heart’s Home by Kris Michaels

Chapter 7

Mercy waited until Destiny was out of their shelter and playing with some of the children before she went back into the small living space and dug up her stash. It had been three weeks since she'd last given blood. The day before, Cam and Punt had stopped those men from trashing some of the shelters. She carefully counted the money. If she gave blood again this week, she'd have enough to pay for a fake ID. It had taken a year to scrape together the one hundred and fifty dollars she needed. She carefully put the money back into the jar, sealed the top tightly, and covered it with dirt, packing it down before she put a bag full of other bags on top of the disturbed soil.

A commotion outside caught her attention, and she shimmied out of her shelter. At least ten black and white patrol cars with their lights flashing drove down the horrible road. Destiny was by her side immediately. "Mom?"

Mercy swallowed hard and ducked down, grabbing caps for both of them. She helped Dezzy tuck her red hair into the hat and then shoved her own hair under the stocking cap.

Cam and Bull appeared beside her. She glanced at the men and asked, "What's going on?" She held Destiny's hand.

Neither man answered. How could they? They wouldn't know. She watched as the uniformed police officers started moving through the camp. The destruction they caused was ten times the damage from the men who'd arrived yesterday, only they had no way to fight back against these people. She watched as they came closer. Several had long iron bars and used them to ruin the shanties or put holes in the tents. They were shouting at everyone to leave, to clear out, yelling at the people that they couldn't stay here anymore. Cam moved in front of her, and Bull walked down closer to Mona and Dina's shelter as the people in uniform came closer.

Mona and Dina's bigger shanty was the first one on their side to be destroyed. The women fell to the ground crying as their children huddled behind them. Mercy watched in horror as the men and women in uniform flattened her shelter. Cam's arm came around her, and she turned into him while holding Destiny to her. She buried her head in the man's coat and tried not to hear the devastation that followed.

A command over the radio crackled, and just like that, the officers stopped and plodded back to their vehicles. She stepped away from Cam and moved to what had once been her shelter. As if the strength had drained from her, she dropped to her knees and stared at the small space she'd worked so hard to reinforce and keep warm.

"What are we going to do now, Mom?" Destiny dropped to her knees beside her.

Mercy shook her head. "I don't know, baby." She glanced up at the dark grey skies. Snow would be coming soon. She lifted one of the shards of wood. "We need to put it back up." But how? The boards were shattered, the plastic bags they'd used to tie the pieces together lay tattered in shreds. Their blankets were covered in dirt and had been trampled. She carefully moved everything into a pile and dug up the small glass jar that held her money. She drew a shaking breath and put it in her pocket.

Cam kneeled beside her. "I have a large tent with a flap that separates the spaces. You and Destiny are welcome to stay with me. I don't know how to prepare for the winter. It would benefit both you and me."

She glanced up at the man. His dark grey eyes were sincere, but she'd seen that look before. She shook her head. "No. We can't."

"Why, Mom? Cam takes care of all of us. He's not like Ian or the police." Destiny pulled one of her shirts from the dirty pile and looked up at her.

She glanced over at Cam, and he shrugged. "The offer stands." He looked over the devastation. "Has this happened before?" The muscle in his cheek worked hard as he clenched his jaw. He was angry; it radiated off him. It wasn't pointed at her or Dezzy, but recent history had taught her the direction of a man's ire could change in the blink of an eye.

She swallowed hard and tried not to let the emotion she felt get the better of her. She had to stay strong for Dezzy. Answering the question was hard, but she managed. "Twice since I've been here. Not this bad, though. Usually just the east side."

Cam nodded and stood. "Get your things. My tent is the brown and red one. My pack is on the side I've claimed. You set up your side. You'll be safe there. I guarantee it." He stepped away and headed to where Bull, Enzo, and Punt stood.

"Mom, there's nothing left to fix here." Destiny pushed away a large piece of cardboard, picking out the edge of a blanket and pulling it. "The big water bottle is ruined." The blanket was coated with mud from the water bottle being crushed on the dirt floor.

"We can wash this one next Saturday with everything else." It would be cold at night, but they'd been cold before. If they could get them to dry out, dirty blankets were still warmer than nothing. Mercy sat back on her knees and looked at the others, busily trying to restore their shelters. She glanced up the hill at the red and brown tent and closed her eyes. They had to take Cam up on his offer, but she'd sleep with her knife in her hand. If he raised one finger to either of them, they'd leave. No one would make her stay in an abusive situation again.

* * *

Cam made his way back to his tent and pulled out his weapon. He checked the safety and strapped it back into his ankle holster. He pocketed his phone, badge, and keys. Whatever happened here today wasn't going to happen again. He passed Enzo on the way down the hill. "Mercy is going to move her and the kid into my tent."

Enzo stopped. "Think Bull is taking in Mona and her two kids. Ain't got no extra room in my tent."

"We do what we can. Maybe you can help fix up."

"Toothpicks don't make shelters, but yeah. I get you." Enzo headed up to his tent, and Cam headed into the city. He had a call to make.

It took him an hour of zigzagging through the streets and alleys to make it to his vehicle, just to make sure no one followed him. Finally, he plugged in his phone and dialed Laghari's cell.

"Did you find him?"

"No, and I never will if the cops don't lay off the Cottages. He won't come back with them shaking the camp down."

"What are you talking about?" His boss' question was painted with confusion.

Cam explained the recent incursions at the camp, and specifically the one where Mitchell was flushed from his tent by what looked like hired muscle. "One of the guys told me Mitchell had been there for about a month, so he's staying at the Cottages for a reason. If he comes back I'll know, but you have to keep the cops out. And why the hell did they shake down these people? They destroyed their shelters, and snow is expected. The cops were telling them to leave, to move on, and they told them that they'd be coming back. When did the city decide to wage war on the homeless? We're on the verge of winter!"

Laghari sighed. "The city didn't, but individual representatives do have pull with some of the old school cops. Chauncey King, the Chief of Police, is cleaning house, but with so many rats… well, the crafty ones survive."

Cam huffed, "These were patrol cars. I have numbers.” He recited the unit numbers on the cars. He'd repeated them over and over in his mind as the officers worked their way through the camp.

"I'll get these to the Chief. Heads will roll, but you'll need to be careful. If those cops think it was a homeless person that ratted them out, they'll be back, and it won't be pretty."

"Tell them there is an undercover op going on."

"And if that got back to a cop on the take? No, it isn't perfect, but those cops are going to be taken down. Chief King is making a dent, we're cleaning out the old school ways, but unfortunately, it takes time."

He shook his head. "These people don't have time, sir."

"I know. My wife and I volunteer at a soup kitchen every Saturday. So I see them, I do."

"What about the pictures of the plates of the cars I sent?" He hadn't seen Mitchell. No doubt he was laying low. Lower.Damn.

"Captain Terrell's forensic techs were able to get the plate number off one. It is a rental car. It was reported stolen three days ago."

He chuffed out a snort of disbelief. "Fortunate timing."

"The goons could be Faber's," Laghari mused.

"But why would Faber's goons be looking for Mitchell if he's working for Faber?"

"Excellent question. Perhaps Mitchell's usefulness is a moot point at this time," Laghari again hypothesized.

Cam shook his head and looked at the grey overcast sky. "My gut is telling me Mitchell didn't know these guys. He ran, the others followed. Hell, maybe he did know them. The ones that we put on the ground left without waiting for the others to come back. They never did. It could have been a meeting. They chase him off where others can't see and give him information."

"We don't have answers and won't get any until we find Mitchell."

"Have my orders changed? Are we looking at other locations?"

"No. I still think the Cottages are near enough to downtown and the port to be of use to Faber. Gut feeling, but I've learned to trust those feelings. Find Mitchell and bring him in," his boss replied.

"What about WitSec for this guy?" The fuck-ups that had cost them to lose the opportunity to secure Mitchell before he bolted had to be addressed.

"Working on that. This time, the DA's office went directly to the Marshals’ office. We have it covered."

"Okay." He glanced out his windshield. Tiny snowflakes hit the glass and stuck. "I need to get back."

"How are you managing?" Laghari asked.

"I don't know how they do it. I'm here a handful of weeks, and if I didn't have a way out, I'd be going insane." He glanced to the back of his SUV and smiled.

"Which is why addiction is such a huge problem among the homeless. Escape is easier sometimes. Take care of yourself, Freeland."

"Will do." He hung up and reached back, pulling three thick blankets toward him. He'd brought them for colder days, but with the snow melting on his windshield, it was time. He removed the tent's black garbage bag from his pocket and shoved the blankets into it, spinning the very top, tying the yellow plastic around the neck to keep the blankets dry from the snow.

The trip back to the camp took less time, but it was almost dark when he made it to his tent.

"Mercy?"

There was a rustle in the tent, and the flap opened. Destiny smiled up at him. "We got you a meal from the food trucks."

"Thank you. I got something for you, too." He pushed the bag into the tent and followed it in. Mercy had the flap unzipped halfway and their possessions lined against the inside flap that separated the two portions of the tent. He'd learned that was to prevent someone from slicing the outside of the tent and stealing essential things with a simple snatch and grab.

"What did you get?" Destiny sat on her knees.

"This." He opened the bag and handed Destiny a fuzzy brown blanket. She shrieked and pulled it to her mom. "Look, Mom! It's so soft. Oh, it smells good, too." Dezzy put the blanket up to her nose and inhaled.

"Say thank you to Cam."

"Oh, thank you, Cam! Thank you so much." Destiny pulled it through to the other side of the tent and placed it carefully on top of the small pallet her mother had made of what was left of their blankets.

"This is for you." He pulled the second blanket out, an older quilt his mother had bought years ago, and handed it to Mercy.

The woman reached out but hesitated. "I don't have any money, and I don't…" She directed her eyes to Destiny and finished, "…trade in any capacity." Her eyes pinned him as she said the last words.

His brow furrowed until he realized what she was implying. "Ah, hell, no." He snapped his mouth shut and darted a look at Destiny. "Excuse the language. That isn't what this is. I don't want anything in exchange. Nothing. We square?"

Mercy nodded, the wary look still present in her stare. She moved the blanket and gave him a Styrofoam container. "You missed the food trucks."

He accepted the container and shoved back toward the far side of his half of the tent, giving Mercy the room he sensed she needed. "Thank you. Did you both eat?"

Destiny pulled on her mom's blanket, and Mercy turned to help put the blanket on the pallet. "Yep, and we got new toothbrushes and toothpaste." Destiny held up her plastic-wrapped toothbrush.

He smiled at the girl’s delight. "That's good." Her mother's eyes misted a bit, but she looked away quickly so the girl wouldn't see the pain in her eyes. Cam, however, didn't miss the moment.

With no words to comfort her, he made quick work of the cold food and sat the container by the outside flap. He pulled the last blanket out of the bag and spread it down on the canvas floor of the tent. The wind had picked up and the structure buffeted in the wind.

Mercy whispered, "Tomorrow, we'll show you how to put cardboard up to stop some of the wind." He couldn't see her well in the dark but sensed both she and Destiny had laid down.

"Thank you. Was everyone taken in?"

"I don't know. I guess that makes me a bad person, but I… I was only worried about Dezzy."

"Dezzy?" He chuckled. "Cute."

"Mom, really? Did you have to tell him?"

Mercy chuckled. The rich sound filled the tent with a warmth a thousand BTU heater couldn't match. "Go to sleep, baby."

"All right. Night, Cam. Night, Mom."

"Good night, Dezzy." They said the words in unison, and he chuckled when the girl groaned.

"Night, Mercy."

"Good night, Cam. And thank you for taking us in. We'll try to stay out of the way."

He shifted to his side, trying to see her through the darkness. "Mercy, you're safe here. You don't have to hide or stay out of the way."

There was silence for several long minutes. He could hear Destiny's breathing, soft and steady. Mercy's quiet reply startled him. "I'll always have to hide."

"Why?" He whispered the word.

"Because he'll kill us this time."

Cam blinked at the answer. So many questions floated through his mind that by the time he knew what he wanted to ask, Mercy's even breathing had joined Dezzy's. He rolled onto his back and stared unseeingly up at the top of the tent. Ian. He recalled Destiny's plea that Cam wasn't like Ian, that Cam was a protector. He suddenly hated this Ian man with a passion. He didn't have to be told the rest of the story. He knew that Mercy fled to protect her daughter and herself from that bastard, and that was enough.

He closed his eyes and swore to himself as soon as the Mitchell situation was taken care of he'd make it his mission to find out what happened and find a way to help Mercy and her daughter. A drop in the bucket as far as the enormity of the homeless situation was concerned, but it was a start.