Merciless

My guts twisted when I realized he’d known exactly when I’d gotten home. He had to be someplace close by. “No, I insist. As a matter of fact, why don’t you come out to the ranch and get it?”

Silence.

Then he sighed. “I hear the distrust in your tone.”

“Well, it does appear you broke into my house. If you wanted to talk to me, you could’ve just called the house phone, rather than using this type of ploy.”

“Technically, it wasn’t breaking in since you didn’t lock your door.” He tsk-tsked. “Too bad you don’t lock everything up as tight as your gun safe.”

The bastard had been in my bedroom.

Before I could retort, he said, “Speaking of safe… have you checked in with your family? You know they’re all alive, and well, and accounted for?”

A spike of fear lodged in my soul.

“Well, you know the sheriff is buttoned up tight in room four oh six at the hospital. Last I checked, roughly a half hour ago, your sister Hope and your niece were snug in their trailer. Along with the sheriff’s son. Jake will return from feeding cattle soon. That takes care of the Red Leaf family. At least, that branch of the Red Leaf family. Have you talked to John-John lately? Probably not. I heard that bit of nastiness he said to you that night at Stillwell’s about his stupid vision. He really is such a flaming faggot, you’re better off without his friendship.”

Faggot. I hated that word. “Sheldon, what do you want?”

A noise clunked against the receiver; then, “How about Sophie Red Leaf? When was the last time you spoke to her? When was the last time anyone saw her?”

Hope had told me yesterday she couldn’t get ahold of Sophie. I’d intended to call her today, but I’d gotten sidetracked. Still, she was safe. Devlin and John-John were constantly around her, all of them grieving together.

“Mercy?” he asked with a sharper edge. “When was the last time you saw Sophie?”

“Last week.”

“That long?” He tsk-tsked again. “Isn’t the woman almost a mother to you? I’ll bet if you called her right now, she wouldn’t pick up. I’ll bet if you marched up to her front door right now, she wouldn’t answer. I’ll bet if you broke the door down, you wouldn’t find her at home. Where do you think she could be?” Sheldon laughed. “Ooh. I know exactly where she is.”

Fear, outrage, and more fear built inside me-I was done playing dumb. “What the hell have you done with her? She’s an eighty-year-old woman, you fucking sick bastard.”

“Ah, ah, ah. I’d curb that tongue if I were you. Don’t give me a reason to take out my frustration with you… on poor Sophie.”

“Why are you doing this? She’s done nothing to you.”

“But she means something to you, doesn’t she? I’ll bet she means everything to you. I’ll bet you’ll do anything to get her back.”

I paced. My heart raced, but my mind seemed sluggish. How the hell had he gotten to Sophie? “Tell me where she is.”

“Tell you what. I’ll give you a chance to win her freedom.” Sheldon’s tone mellowed to that of a lover. “But first, let’s get to know each other better. Seems our talks were always interrupted. I hated that. Didn’t you?”

That stopped me from pacing. “Why do you want to talk to me?”

“Because you’re a fascinating woman. But before you do anything stupid, like try to use your house phone to ring up your federal pals, be aware that I cut the phone line. This is between you and me. No using your cell phone during our conversation. If I find out you’ve talked to anyone besides me or signaled them in any way… I will gut Sophie slowly and pull out her entrails while you listen. So continuing this conversation is entirely up to you. I’ll give you a minute to think on it.”

I had déjà vu for the second time today. This reminded me of the phone call from Theo the morning he’d taken Hope. The little jerk-off had called me, warning me about all the horrible things he planned to do to my pregnant sister if I didn’t follow his instructions.

Oh, I’d followed his instructions. And then I’d killed him.

Did Sheldon know that, no matter how tough he played this, he was just as dead as Theo? No one threatened my family and got away with it. No one.

I looked around. When had he put my house under surveillance? I doubted he’d installed cameras in here-too obvious, too much money, and too time-consuming. Which meant right now, he was close enough to see into the house. I suppressed a shudder and steeled myself for a conversation with a madman. “Fine, Sheldon. I’m listening.”

“Good. But I want you to ask me questions.”

What the fuck was with psycho killers wanting to keep a running dialogue with me? Theo. Iris. Saro. Sheldon. Did I give off some trust-me-with-your-twisted-secrets vibe?

Maybe it’s because like recognizes like.

No. No. No. I was not like any of them. Not at all. “What kind of questions?”

“Like how long I’ve been involved in this sideline?”

“I’m betting… about five years, since you first realized you could get away with killing women and making their deaths look like accidents.”