16
Mercy
From a safe distance,I observed the front lawn of my old house. A couple of guys were standing at the edge by the sidewalk just beyond a streetlamp’s glow, sipping beers. No lights shone in the windows, and in the hour I’d been watching, I hadn’t seen anyone moving inside or going in or out.
Now or never. With Wylder and the other guys dealing with whatever the fallout was with his dad, I couldn’t just sit around twiddling my thumbs. I needed to know why these Red Shark jackasses had set up shop in the house. Had Dad been keeping more secrets than I’d guessed?
My heart skipped a beat at the thought of how I’d run off on the guys, but I’d only done it because Wylder had insisted. I just hoped he found a way to get through to his own dad—or to stand up to him in a way that wouldn’t get him hurt for his trouble.
I forced myself to push those thoughts aside and crept through the night’s shadows to the back of the house. After ducking through the neighbor’s yard, I scaled the sturdy fence between our properties with a leap and a quick scramble, and sprang from there into the oak tree in my old back yard.
The leaves rustled. I crouched on the branch in the darkness for the space of a few breaths, listening hard. When no sound of alarm was raised, I clambered across the tree and made my way through one of the second floor windows, just like I had when I’d gone to retrieve my bracelet weeks ago.
Inside the house, I stood completely still for another minute, confirming there were no sounds of movement around me. My fingers drifted over the outline of the Little Angel bracelet in my pocket. When no noise reached me except faint laughter from the men outside, I slipped down the darkened hall.
Maybe it was a risk coming here right now. But something had been niggling at me ever since Gideon had played that recording of the Red Sharks guys talking. If I was going to find any answers to the questions I couldn’t get out of my head, it’d be here.
Back when everything was… well, as normal as my life had ever been, Dad’s home office had always been locked, even when he was inside. He hadn’t allowed me to set foot in there since I’d been around seven or eight, but I’d understood more than he’d realized when I’d been a little kid.
I’d come equipped with the lock picks that Anthea had given me a brief tutorial on during one of her recent visits, but it turned out I didn’t even need them. The door was standing ajar, the knob completely removed. One of the past intruders had broken in. I picked up my pace, setting my feet quickly but silently on the floor as I hurried over.
At the doorway, I scanned the room quickly. The intruders had gone through the contents on Dad’s desk. Papers were strewn all over the room. Chairs had been overturned, books had been pulled off the bookcase, small trinkets that Dad had collected over the years as mementos of particularly big jobs lay smashed on the floor. Whoever had gone through the place, they’d been thorough.
Had they figured out his secret stash?
My heart thumping wildly in my chest, I walked to the corner of the room and knelt. The thick curtain over the window gave me the confidence to get out my phone and use it for a light. I felt along the baseboard with my other hand. There. I pressed down on the wobbly spot and pried open the loose section before flashing the beam of light inside.
A sigh of relief rushed out of me. It didn’t look like anything in Dad’s favorite hiding place had been discovered.
I pulled out a wad of cash first and pocketed it. That could come in handy now that I was relying completely on myself for housing and food. Next I found a couple of notebooks, a phone, and a United States passport.
I shook the last item open. The picture was Dad’s, but the name was fake. He’d never used this one—none of the pages were stamped.
Sitting down on the floor, I turned to the notebooks next. He must have written some pretty important stuff in them if he’d kept them in there. By the dim glow of my phone, I flipped through the pages.
Unfortunately, whatever illicit business Dad had written about, he’d been more careful than just hiding it behind the baseboard. The notebooks were full of a mix of recognizable words and what looked like random strings of jumbled letters and numbers. He’d written it in partial code. I’d known he’d used one sometimes, but he’d never shared it with me. Or anyone else, as far as I knew. He’d meant the information in here to be for his eyes only.
I snapped pictures of the pages in case I lost the notebooks. Maybe Gideon would be able to crack the code and make something of the information. Then I stuffed them into my bag and picked up the phone. It was my last chance of figuring anything out myself tonight.
The screen was smudged and a crack ran across one corner. I was afraid it might have died with all that time in storage. But Dad had obviously charged it regularly, and he’d shut it off completely between uses so that it kept some power. It turned on when I pressed the button, the screen flashing to show 15% power remaining.
It asked for a passcode, but I’d been able to pick up Dad’s typical one from careful observations over the years. There were a few benefits to being constantly underestimated. I tapped it in.
There were no apps on the phone other than the standard ones that came with installation. I checked the text messages. The most recent conversation was with a contact Dad had labeled “Teeth.”
I frowned at the screen. I couldn’t think of any of the business associates I knew of who’d gone by that nickname.
The moment I tapped through to the conversation, a chill washed over me. I skimmed back through the messages to make sure I wasn’t missing anything.
The text conversation had started about five months ago and gone on for several weeks after that—pretty much right up until Dad’s death. Here and there, messages had been deleted as if they’d contained particularly sensitive information, but what remained told a clear story.
I think this alliance could benefit both of us,Dad said at one point. You’ll take over some of my territory here, and share some of yours with the Claws, and we’ll expand our reach together.
We definitely see the reasoning behind your proposal,the contact he’d named Teeth had answered. We’re just working out the logistics. This isn’t the kind of thing we’d want to move quickly on.
And later, from Dad, Is everything going forward as you hoped? If you need more specifics on my businesses here, I can give you that.
The response: Everything looks good. I believe we can get started within the next few months. You’re ready for our arrival?