Without Mercy (Mercy 1)

“I thought there might be other options.” She bent down to pick up a flyer someone had left on her stoop. It was a wet advertisement for carpet cleaning.

“The way I hear it, Shay needs some straightening out.”

“Or guidance?” she offered. There was something about Eli, an air of superiority that had always gotten under Jules’s skin.

“That’s what I meant. A little tough love. There wasn’t a lot of it in your family, what with Max leaving your mom and all that trouble with Rip.”

“Trouble?” she repeated, irritated.

“Yeah—”

“He was murdered, Eli,” she reminded him tightly as she straightened and jabbed her key into the lock. “Killed by an intruder.” She felt a rush in her ears, a thunder that always precluded the same vision of Rip lying on the floor, staring, gasping up at her, his lips crimson as she stood over him….

Had the knife been in her hands?

Or was that image only in the nightmare that haunted her?

“Hey, don’t take this the wrong way. I’m just saying Shaylee grew up without a real strong father figure.”

“And Blue Rock Academy will supply one?” She twisted the knob.

“It will give her a good, solid base. Rules to live by. Counselors to talk to. Strong Christians who will show her how to live her life to her full potential.”

“You sound just like some of those testimonials I read online.”

The door was stuck again. Swollen with the rain. With an effort, she shouldered it open and made a mental note to talk to the handyman for the condos.

“Blue Rock is a great place. Perfect for Shaylee.”

Tossing the soggy brochure onto a table near the door, she said, “Glad to know. Thanks.”

“So … then … we’re good, right?”

“Haven’t we always been, Eli?”

“Yeah, but … Well, Analise was afraid that you might go poking around—”

“Poking around?”

“Making trouble.”

“There’s that word again: trouble. For whom?” Where the hell was this going? “You?”

“Analise told you that we didn’t leave the school on the best of terms, right? But it was our idea. No fault of anyone at Blue Rock Academy.”

“I don’t understand,” she said, leaning against the wall, feeling the hem of her coat dripping onto the rug near the door. Diablo stretched on the top of the couch, claws extended, back legs stiff. “What’re you getting at, Eli? Are you saying that someone from the academy might give you some kind of trouble? Is that it?” She couldn’t believe this. “And you’re afraid that you wouldn’t be invited to the class reunion?” The cat hopped off the couch and hurried over to greet her. Jules bent down and scratched his chin with her free hand.

“That’s not it!”

“Then what is it, Eli? Huh? Why the hell are you so rattled about me discussing the academy with your wife—”

“It’s not that,” he cut in. “I just don’t think you know Shay. That girl is trouble, Jules. She needs this kind of structure. She needs to learn respect.”

“I think I know my own sister, and don’t turn this around to Shay,” Jules argued. “What is it that you’re afraid of?”

“Nothing. We’re … I’m not afraid of anything.”

She didn’t buy it. The silence was thick. She straightened as Diablo did figure eights between her wet feet.