Merciless

Dawson stood in front of the TV with his hands on Lex’s shoulders. He motioned me to stand by his side. “I’d like to thank Hope and Miz Red Leaf for surprising us with the idea for a party welcoming my son, Lex, to South Dakota.”

I caught Geneva’s eye and she mouthed “Sucker” to me. Mature, not to stick my tongue out at her or flip her off.

“As of this morning, Lex is enrolled in Eagle Ridge Middle School in sixth grade for the entire school year.”

Clapping.

“Son, anything else you want to add?”

Lex’s face turned a darker shade of red, and he shook his head.

“Ain’t gonna be able to get away with nothin’ with your dad as the sheriff, boy,” Devlin shouted out.

Laughter.

“That didn’t seem to keep Mercy outta trouble, though, when Wyatt was sheriff,” Tim Lohstroh said dryly.

More laughter.

“Thanks, everyone, for coming. I believe it’s time to eat, so help yourselves. The food, as always, will be excellent, again thanks to Miz Red Leaf and Hope.”

Kiki offered her hand to Lex. “I’m glad you’re here, and I imagine we’ll be seeing you at the sheriff’s office.”

Lex nodded. His shyness with adults surprised me.

Geneva approached next. “Lex, I’m Doug’s mom. I hope we’ll see you at our place soon.” She winked. “Always plenty of chores to do.”

“My dad said I’d have chores to do around here.”

When Geneva said, “It builds character,” I rolled my eyes. We’d made fun of our folks endlessly for saying those exact same words to us at that age.

I stood close enough to Dawson that I heard his stomach rumble. I looked up at him and touched his arm. “Skipped lunch again today, Sheriff?”

“Got a little busy.”

“You’re starving. You guys get in line.”

“You comin’?”

“In a minute.”

Geneva smirked at me after they headed for the kitchen. “Aw, lookit you, worrying for your man’s appetite and well-being.”

I whispered, “Fuck off,” in her ear.

She laughed. “You are so freakin’ easy to tease, Mercy. And I’ll admit, being domesticated and in love suits you. You look… happy. For a change.”

Much as I hated the word domesticated, I couldn’t deny I was happy.

“At least your job with the FBI hasn’t put you two at odds. Yet. Can you tell me anything about the murder that happened on the rez?”

Of course Geneva put a disclaimer on my happiness-not to be mean, but because she knew me well. I’d mentally done the same thing.

“You know I can’t comment on cases, except to say, it was a hellish week.”

She lowered her voice. “And in addition to that stress, you’re okay being mommy to Dawson’s boy?”

“(A) I’m not his mommy, and (b) yes, without giving you more ammunition, I’m glad Lex is here because Mason is so happy about it.”

“It’s all about making your man happy. Stroking his… ego.”

“Jesus, give it a rest.”

But smart-ass Geneva went ahead and made kissing noises anyway, so I elbowed her in the gut.

“Not fair,” she wheezed. “But fine, I’m done. I’ll admit, with your friends and his… there’s a weird mix of people here.” We both glanced at John-John fussing around his mother. Devlin on his knees in front of the TV. Then Rollie and Verline exchanging harsh words in the corner. Sophie moved around, but without her usual hustle. “How is Sophie holding up?”

“Look at her. When I suggested she might want to slow down, she acted like I was firing her on the spot.” I shot Geneva a sharp look. “And yes, I offered to keep paying her salary while she took a leave of absence to be with her daughter, but she said, and I quote, ‘I won’t be takin’ no one’s charity, hey.’ ”

“Stubborn woman. But not surprising. I think that’s where you learned it.” Her focus shifted. “Excuse me, but I have to make sure Krissa eats more than cookies for supper.”

Somehow I ended up holding Joy again, who wasn’t happy because she saw food and didn’t have any. I plopped her into her high chair, right by Rollie and Verline. When Joy shrieked and pounded her fists on the plastic tray, Rollie made a disgruntled noise and left. Verline didn’t follow him.

I tossed a couple of animal crackers on Joy’s tray, because my food-nazi sister had specific dietary restrictions for her daughter. I’d gotten my ass chewed for introducing my niece to the deliciousness of chocolate ice cream.

I studied Verline. She was so damn young. A little on the plain side. Still carrying a few extra pounds from her last baby. When she tucked a hank of hair behind her ear, I noticed a discolored spot on her cheek, now faded to yellowish green.

A bruise. On her face.

I froze. Had Rollie hit her? This young girl who’d borne his children? No other plausible reasons for a facial bruise surfaced.

Could I get Verline alone to get to the bottom of it? And if I found out Rollie had caused that mark? I’d… I wasn’t sure what I’d do. But I sure as shit wouldn’t let it slide.

I mingled. I chatted. I let liquor soothe me. The crowd made short work of the sloppy joes, chips, molasses cookies, calico baked beans, and Sophie’s famous radish-and-pineapple coleslaw.