A Merciful Secret

“Thank you, but I couldn’t sleep.”

“Understandable. I’m sorry you were there during her death,” said Jeff, his brown eyes sympathetic. Her boss was a good guy and a pro at making people relax, but he was married to his job. Mercy suspected he’d be snatched up by a bigger office soon. He was moving steadily up the government’s ladder.

“I’m glad I was there, otherwise she would have died alone. And Morrigan could have gotten lost trying to find help.” Mercy doubted her last statement. Morrigan was completely at home in the woods.

Jeff slapped the file in his hand. “I’ve got news.” His tone shifted from sympathy to business. “We’ve been notified that the murder of Judge Malcolm Lake in Portland yesterday strongly resembles Olivia Sabin’s death.”

One point for Brody’s sources. Mercy kept her face carefully blank. “Who made the connection?”

“The medical examiner. This morning Dr. Lockhart heard a few details from Judge Lake’s autopsy and she immediately contacted the state’s head examiner, stating she’d seen a similar case just this morning. Comparison of the injuries shows they are nearly identical.”

“Where was the judge killed?” Mercy asked. “I didn’t hear about it since I was out of the office yesterday.”

“In his Portland home, right in his own bed. His housekeeper found him yesterday morning.”

“We’re over three hours away from Portland. Maybe even over four because of the crappy roads,” Eddie pointed out. “Why cross the Cascade mountain range to murder an old woman in the woods?”

“Dr. Lockhart cleared her schedule and did the autopsy late this morning. According to her, the similarities can’t be ignored. The Portland special agent working Judge Lake’s murder is coming sometime today.”

Two points for Brody.

Eddie shot a narrow glance at Mercy. “Ava McLane?” he asked Jeff.

Jeff glanced at the file. “Yes.” He scowled. “How did you know?”

“Ask Mercy. Somehow she knew before both of us.”

The two men stared at her.

“Five minutes ago I ran into a reporter outside. He told me.”

Jeff pursed his lips. “That’s not good. But with Judge Lake’s death, I’m not surprised it’s getting media coverage. Was he local?”

“Portland. The Oregonian.”

“Refer any media to me,” Jeff said. “Eddie, you’re to work with the Portland agent . . .” He looked at his file again. “McLane.”

“I’d like to be kept in the loop,” Mercy said; she knew Jeff would never assign her a case in which she was a witness, but she had to keep her finger in this pot. Olivia’s face was imprinted on her memory.

“Unofficially,” said Jeff. “I don’t need the complication of a witness involved in the investigation.” He placed the file on Eddie’s desk.

“Understood.” Mercy would follow his rules, but finding Olivia’s killer had shifted to priority level in her brain.

Her boss disappeared, and she raised a brow at Eddie.

“This is my case,” Eddie stated. “Go away.”

“I think you need to interview your primary witness: me,” she pointed out. She wasn’t going anywhere.

“True—hey, there’s Ava.” He gestured out his window at the parking lot. Mercy took two steps to get a view. Her friend had just been stopped in the lot by the same tall reporter.

“That’s the reporter,” she told Eddie. “He claimed to be a friend of Ava’s.” Mercy laughed as the dark-haired woman waved her finger in the man’s face, clearly upset at something he’d said. “It looks like she doesn’t appreciate his nosiness. I knew he was full of crap when he said she was—oh!”

Ava was hugging the tall man. She pulled back, smiled, and patted his cheek.

“They look like friends to me.” Eddie poked her in the shoulder.

Mercy stared as the two parted, clearly on good terms. “Huh.”

A minute later Ava was shown into Eddie’s office. The Portland FBI agent gave Mercy a quick hug and shook Eddie’s hand. “Country living looks good on both of you.” Her low voice always reminded Mercy of melted caramel. Rich, smooth, and sweet.

“It’s not the boonies,” Eddie said defensively. “We’ve got nearly eighty thousand people in Bend.”

Ava’s dark eyes danced at his tone. “I understood why Mercy took this post, but I was surprised to hear that you threw your hat in the ring. Your hip, two-hundred-dollar hat.”

“I like it out here.” Eddie scowled. “The air’s cleaner and the beer is just as good. Maybe better. And you can’t beat the scenery.”

“Touché. I’m always stunned by all the beautiful mountain peaks. Especially after a fresh snow. But your roads really suck right now.”

“Nothing’s melting,” agreed Mercy. “And supposedly we’ve got another big storm rolling in.” She glanced at Eddie. “Five minutes ago we were told the reason you are here. What happened to the judge?”

Ava sank into one of the two chairs in Eddie’s office and indicated for Mercy to take the other. Her eyes were tired, but she jumped right into her information about Judge Lake.

“The judge was discovered yesterday morning by his housekeeper. She cleans two days a week, starting at ten a.m. His office had tried to contact him when he didn’t show up for work, but no one had considered anything suspicious. When his housekeeper realized he was dead, she backed out of the room and called 911.”

“She didn’t compromise the scene at all?” Eddie asked.

“No. She saw the blood on the bed right away and proceeded into the room with caution. She didn’t touch a thing . . . not even the body, because he was clearly dead. The medical examiner estimates that he was murdered between six p.m. and midnight.”

“Cause of death?” Mercy asked, knowing the answer.

“He bled out,” Ava said grimly. “He had multiple deep lacerations on his abdomen, chest, and neck. The medical examiner said three of the cuts damaged vital arteries and each alone could have killed him.”

“Overkill,” Mercy said.

“An apt description,” said Ava.

“Any evidence?” asked Mercy.

“The front door to his home was left unlocked, and there’s no sign of a break-in. The housekeeper didn’t see anything missing in a cursory look. His wallet with several hundred dollars was on his nightstand, so robbery is low on our list of motivations,” said Ava.

“It sounds personal,” pointed out Mercy. “What about cameras?”

“No cameras. A security system, but not with cameras.”

“You checked to see if any of the neighbors have cameras that might give a view of his property or the street?” asked Eddie.

“Yes. Two had street views and showed eleven vehicles passing by between eight and twelve that night, but none of their plates were caught on camera. We identified which vehicles belong in the neighborhood, but that left four others.” Ava took a breath and went on. “No weapon has been found, and we’re running prints, but so far they’ve all been his or the housekeeper’s.”

“Any family?” Eddie scribbled on his notepad.

“An ex-wife who lives in Bend and two adult sons. Neither are married.” Ava paused. “Gabriel Lake is his son who lives in Portland and Christian Lake lives in Bend.”