Finding Mercy: The Next Generation Read online

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  Bruce moved to the next picture and pointed to it. “Meet Emma Lucas. Seventeen, a senior, average student, middle-class family, and girls field hockey player. She was the one planning on seducing Officer Michaels. Damn good catch, James and Walker. I don’t think Officer Michaels would’ve drunk anything at the party, but shit happens, and you prevented a possible clusterfuck. He poured the drink into a flask and was able to get it to the lab. Toxicology came back, gamma butyrolactone, or GBL. There was also a high dosage of sildenafil.”

  “Jesus, was she trying to kill him?” Scott asked.

  “She was trying to do something, my guess, trying to get laid,” Paul added.

  Spiking a drink with a date rape drug and adding an erectile dysfunction medication could have deadly results.

  “What are we doing with Emma?” I inquired.

  “Emma is Keith’s new girlfriend. He’s keeping her close.”

  “And how is that going to work? The girl obviously wants sex. She’s not going to take no for an answer. We’re putting Keith in a no-win situation.”

  Mercy said exactly what I was thinking. Going undercover was always hard, but working in a high school around minors was much more difficult. You walked a tight rope of impropriety every day. He had to blend in, talk like them, act like them, but he still had to follow the law—to the letter. If this girl was after him sexually, that was a problem, a big one. And as much as Emma was caught up in a drug investigation she was still a child and needed to be handled with care.

  “He has it covered. We’ve fitted him, his car, and his locker with cameras. Every time he’s with her, we’ll have eyes and ears. He’s protected, believe me he’s not thrilled to have to even hold the girl’s hand, but he’s committed. He thinks there’s more at play than a bunch of high schoolers wanting to get high and have sex. Someone is supplying them with the drugs.”

  I did not envy Keith or the position we were putting him in. The faster we worked this case the sooner he’d be out of it. And the sooner I could get away from Mercy and get back to my cases.

  6

  “Nessa Kular. Reported missing yesterday after she didn’t come home from a sleepover Saturday night. She was supposed to be with a group of friends at Mary Beth Stevens’s house. The Stevenses said there was no sleepover at their house,” I rattled off what Detective Adams had sent me.

  Let’s just say, my new number one worst way to start a Monday was a six a.m. callout. Okay, the callout wasn’t what I hated, looking down at a pretty, fourteen-year-old dead girl was. COD suspected drug overdose. A morning jogger had found her at a park. The only reason the passerby discovered her was because her dog had gone into the bushes and wouldn’t come out.

  “Parkside High School. Freshman—”

  “Wait. Did you say Parkside?” Jason asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Fuck. My sister, Delaney’s a teacher there.”

  “You have a sister?”

  Weird question to ask while standing over a dead body, but I’d been taken aback. First, because I hadn’t known he had a sister, and, second, because he’d shared something personal, which he never did. There were these invisible walls around our friendship. Inside of those walls were things we could freely talk about. Like movies, food, the news, the weather. You know, inconsequential shit that you’d talk to your deli counter clerk about. Then there was everything else. That stuff was outside the perimeter and no-go topics. Family, life, goals, dreams, the past, the wife.

  “I have four. Delaney is the oldest. Then there’s Quinn, and the youngest are the twins, Hadley and Adalynn.”

  Perhaps his morning coffee hadn’t kicked in yet or he’d forgotten to electrify the fence he lived behind, because that one sentence gave me more information about him than all of the other sentences combined over the last four months we’d been working this case together. Not that I’d told him anything about myself, but that was only because I knew in doing so, I’d make him shut down.

  Jason was no longer looking around the area, he was on his phone. Truthfully, there was nothing for us to do here. Adams had only called us to the scene to keep us in the loop. He believed in sharing every piece of the puzzle. Even the small stuff the DEA had no jurisdiction over.

  “Delaney said she has first period free. If we hurry we can go and talk to her before her classes start.”

  “Did you tell her why you wanted to see her?”

  “No, she thinks it’s a brotherly visit.”

  The sadness was back, and I wondered if he and his sisters were close, or if he had other family in the area. Not that I was going to ask.

  We said our goodbyes to the detectives on the scene and made our way to the street.

  “I’m right here, want to drive over with me?” he asked, but it really wasn’t a question considering he’d already opened the passenger side door for me.

  Once we were on the road he asked, “Do you have any siblings?”

  “No.”

  I didn’t elaborate or offer any more information. Just because he felt chatty at the moment didn’t mean he wouldn’t change his mind, and talking about my brother Neil and how I’d lost him wasn’t something I was willing to share. Not while Jason was still giving me whiplash.

  “Do all your sisters live around here?”

  “Yes. Hadley and Adalynn are both in college, they’re twenty. Quinn is and always has been the wild child. She’s twenty-three and still trying to find herself.”

  “Nothing wrong with that. She’s figuring herself out, and that’s actually a good thing.”

  “I suppose. She drives my dad crazy. One minute she wants to be a flight attendant to see the world, the next she’s going to school to be an ultrasound tech. Then there was the time she was going to join the Peace Corps. I think that’s the only thing he ever flat-out forbade her to do.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he was in the military and he had firsthand experience with what goes on in third world countries. And while the Peace Corps is a great program, it’s not right for my sister. She has no sense of situational awareness and is often too trusting. It was a recipe for disaster.”

  “Sounds familiar.”

  I hadn’t meant to say that out loud. I didn’t know Quinn and Jason’s dad was probably correct, the Peace Corps may have been dangerous for someone like Quinn, but I still bristled at the notion.

  “What does that mean?”

  “Nothing. Do you think there’s a connection to Nessa and the Polytech parties?”

  “Tell me what you meant,” he demanded.

  So much for the ban on exchanging personal information. There was no way for me to answer his question without explaining my father and my family situation.

  “It just means, I heard something similar when I was growing up. And when I decided to join the DEA it was met with resistance.”

  “I don’t understand. Your instincts are spot on; you’re a great agent.”

  His praise felt good. I’d worked my ass off, not to prove I could be just as good as the men I worked with, or to prove to my father I could do it. I worked hard for myself. I took pride in my work ethic and abilities. I’d learned a long time ago the only person’s opinion that matter was mine. Day in and day out I competed with myself. Only I knew if I was giving my job a hundred percent. Only I knew if I was living my life the way I wanted to. And I was the only one responsible for my happiness.

  “Thanks.”

  “So, tell me, who told you you couldn’t do the job?”

  “Why, Jason? We don’t talk about this kind of stuff. We keep our private lives separate from our professional relationship. The who and the reasons why lean toward personal.”

  “Is there a reason you don’t want to share personal information?”

  Was he crazy? The separation was his doing. I was mostly an open book. I owned my past. Owned my mistakes. And owned my grief. He hid behind his, pretending like the past didn’t exist.

  “Me? No. But anything beyo
nd an easy discussion seems to bother you. I’m just curious why you want to know now.”

  “I just do.” His answer was tight and to the point.

  “My dad was a cop. He was extremely strict. After so many years on the job he was jaded. There were bad guys around every corner. I guess in some ways he was right. Anyway, I was probably a little like Quinn. I was a daredevil and had no fear. I was pretty much the same person at ten that I am now. I never understood why people sugarcoated the truth, I blurted out whatever was on my mind. As I got older and learned how short life was, I decided nothing was going to stop me from living. My dad always told me I had no sense of self-preservation and I was too impulsive. I do what I want, when I want, and I’ll rise to any challenge put in front of me. He hated it. He didn’t want me to go into any type of law enforcement. He said I was signing my own death certificate.”

  “And what did your mom say?”

  “My mom’s dead. She died having me. And while my dad did his best, I always wondered if he blamed me for her dying. He never said it, and I knew he loved me, but he always told me stories about how he met my mom and how it was love at first sight. He never remarried, or dated, he lived a very lonely life.”

  I probably shouldn’t have added the last part, considering Jason’s situation, but it was the truth and I wasn’t known for my tact. My dad died alone. He never got over my mom’s death, never accepted love from another person. He said he was happy and his only desire was to raise me and Neil. But he couldn’t hide from me and my brother. We both knew he was lonely.

  “Jesus, Mercy, that’s horrible.”

  I did notice he didn’t say he was sorry.

  “It pretty much sucked not growing up with a mom.” He’d pulled in front of the school and parked.

  “Hopefully, your sister will be able to tell us something about Nessa.”

  “Yeah, maybe.”

  And the frosty Jason was back. Or maybe this was the appalled Jason. Growing up I had two choices, sulk and be sad over not having a mom or make the best out of what I had. I chose then and still choose now to make the best out of life. It can all be over in the blink of an eye.

  7

  I was reeling from what Mercy had told me. I couldn’t imagine growing up without a mom. My parents had played such an important role in my life, I couldn’t begin to picture a world without them. I was also a whole lot taken aback by the way she’d told me. I guess I shouldn’t have been, she’d told me about her mother’s death like she did everything else, to the point, factual, and nothing more. I was beginning to wonder if Mercy had any feelings. I had yet to see any real emotion come from her.

  And now she was looking at me like I was the one who’d dropped a bomb. I suppose she was correct when she’d said I didn’t ask personal questions. I didn’t, because I didn’t want to have to answer any. The only reason I’d brought up Delaney was because Nessa was a student at the school my sister taught at. There was a chance she could give us some information and there was the added benefit I got to warn her to keep her eyes open and stay safe. What I didn’t need to do was ask her if she had any siblings or push her to tell me about her family. I don’t know why I did it, maybe it was because I was too comfortable around her. The easy comradery made me forget.

  It had been days since I’d decided I needed to go back to my own office yet I was still in hers. We stopped at the front entrance of the school, and I pressed the intercom and waited until the school’s secretary asked for our names. The locks clicked open after she told us to check in with the office.

  “Well, at least they keep the doors locked now,” Mercy muttered. “Something is better than nothing.”

  There was nothing to say to that. She was right, it was better than an open campus, but with all the recent school shootings I was still worried about Delaney.

  We signed in at the front office and made our way to my sister’s classroom. She stood up from behind her desk and smiled.

  “Jason.”

  Yes, she was my sister, but I couldn’t miss she was a beautiful woman. My dad had always said he was being punished for every bad deed in his past when all four of his daughters turned out looking like my mom. He wasn’t wrong. They all had jet-black hair like her, only their eye colors varied. Delaney and I got my mom’s blue eyes. Quinn and the twins got my dad’s eyes, which, on my sisters, meant they had striking green eyes that were no less pretty than Delaney’s blue ones. I’d heard how hot my mom was my whole life, which was disgusting for any son to hear. The comments had led to more than one fight. And when my sisters got older, I’d threatened dozens of teenage boys to stay the fuck away from them. It didn’t matter I was ten years older than the twins and I was intimidating minors.

  “Hey, sis. This is Special Agent Mercy James.”

  “Hi, Mercy, nice to meet you.” She offered her hand to Mercy. “So this isn’t a social visit then?”

  I hated how my sister’s smile fell. One more thing to feel like shit about. I’d pulled away from my close-knit family. Mainly because we were close-knit. That meant they pried. It was a shitty thing to think, but they asked questions and wanted to talk about stuff I wanted to bury.

  “Nice to meet you, Delaney. Unfortunately, no. We need some help on a case and were hoping we could ask you a few questions.”

  “Sure. I’d offer you a seat, but all I have to offer are desks.”

  “We’ll stand. Do you know a student named Nessa Kular?”

  Mercy had taken over the conversation, and I was grateful. It’d been weeks or maybe even over a month since I’d seen my sister, and my heart hurt. There was a time we’d all gathered once a week for family dinners. Then there were the get togethers almost monthly at one of my uncles’ houses. It was widely known you didn’t miss a family function. I’d been given a wide berth after Kayla died, everyone had wanted to give me time to grieve. But as the months slid by, I began to take advantage of the pass. When my dad and uncles had come around and told me to snap out of it, I’d blown them off. It was so fucked up. I was fucked up. Now the chasm was so wide I wasn’t sure how to fix it.

  “I do. She’s in my third period algebra class. There are only two of us that teach freshman math. She’s a pretty good student. Doesn’t turn in her homework, which isn’t unusual but she still scores well on quizzes and tests. She’s very popular. Most teenage girls are more focused on their social standing than on schoolwork, but she’s is almost desperate for it.”

  “What do you mean?” I cut in.

  “I’m around teenagers all day long. I watch how they interact with each other. It’s hard to put into words, more of a gut feeling.”

  “Your gut is very rarely wrong, Delaney. What gave you the impression she was desperate?”

  “You know how when you were a kid and you were told you couldn’t do something or go somewhere, you’d be ticked off? But it was a minor irritation not an over-the-top end of the world explosion.”

  “Like, if Mom and Dad said you couldn’t go to the movies, you’d argue with them because you wanted to go but you wouldn’t have had an all-out tantrum or be extremely anxious you couldn’t go?” I supplied.

  “Right. Well, there were a few times I wanted Nessa to come in during lunch to do her missing homework. She didn’t simply argue like the rest of the kids. She was agitated and on the verge of a panic attack.”

  “Did she tell you why?”

  “She gave me a bullshit reason about being hungry and wanting to eat. Which, just so you know, the kids who need to come to my class during lunch bring their food. I did overhear her telling one of her friends, Cherie Anderson, not to let anyone sit next to Jeff. It wasn’t that she didn’t want anyone sitting next to the boy that caught my attention, it was that she sounded desperate.”

  “Do you know who this Jeff boy is?”

  “No. I don’t have any Jeffs in any of my classes. Is she in trouble?”

  “She was found dead this morning,” I told her.

  “Damn. Has a
nyone notified the school?”

  “No. Word’s going to get out before the PD gets here to talk to the principal. It always does. But do me a favor? Keep your eyes open. Any kids acting strangely, let me know.”

  “As soon as this gets around, everyone will be acting strangely. I hate to say it, but everyone will suddenly be her best friend. Even the kids that were mean to her or didn’t like her will act like they were BFFs.”

  “You’re right about that,” Mercy said. “Listen for any talk of parties she went to this weekend. Or any parties Mary Beth Stevens attended.”

  My sister shook her head, and her eyes widened. “The Stevens girl is bad news. I wouldn’t be surprised if the party was actually at her house.”

  “Her parents said the sleepover the other girls told their parents about didn’t happen in their home.”

  “Right. Says the rich parents who leave their fourteen-year-old home for the weekend alone so they can go out of town. I’d check their credit cards to make sure they were home this weekend.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Teenagers are stupid. They don’t pay attention to who’s around them when they make their weekend party plans. I hear all about it. Most nights when I leave here, I wish ear bleach was a real thing, because girls nowadays are doing things I didn’t do until college.”

  “I don’t want to know.” I held up my hand, stopping my sister from elaborating further. I knew for a fact she’d only been with one guy. And he was one of my closest friends. I didn’t want the details of her and Carter Lenox’s sex life or I’d rethink kicking his Navy SEAL ass.

  “You don’t. Trust me. Sometimes I feel like we’re back in the 60s with free love, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll. These kids are far too sexually active and open to using an assortment of whatever drugs they can get their hands on.

  “How did Nessa die?”

  “Suspected OD,” Mercy answered.