Page 28 of Traitor
“You don’t owe me anything.”
She rolls her eyes. “Do you want food or not?”
God, but I don’t want to tell her no. I knew the second I saw her standing at the desk, with all that hair and her perky smile, I wanted nothing to do with her. She was trouble. The worst kind of trouble.
“Make it drinks,” I tell her, “and we have a deal.”
The last ofthe volunteers are gone after check-out at one and I can finally have some peace and quiet. Or I would if the gaggle of women at my back could stop their henpecking.
“So I did some digging,” Mercy began the second I was finished with the last customer.
I spin around in the stool and raise a brow. “Did you? About what?”
Mercy scoffs and Nell takes a step out of my office where she’d been copying papers. “About the girl.” She wiggles her brows. “The one you’ve been staring at like she’s a steak and you’re a starving dog.”
Mercy’s bawdy laugh fills the space. “He is a dog!”
“Why are you here again?” I ask her. “Don’t you have someone else you can bother?”
“Lexie is out with some friends she met in town and Frank is at the shop with his car.”
“Frank the Mustang guy?”
“Hell, no, I ditched his ass. I met Frank at the bar.”
A sterling character reference. “Get to the point, Mercy, I’ve got things to do.”
“So, anyway, I did some digging on this Peyton girl.”
That gets my attention. “You what?”
Mercy plops in the seat next to me and spins to lean toward Nell. “I mean, who wouldn’t, right? This girl shows up and shit starts to go down. That can’t be a coincidence.”
“You had no business doing that,” I say to her.
“Please. It was absolutely my business. Especially when you go around making eyes at her.”
“C’mon, Mercy, we’re not fourteen years old anymore. I’m not making eyes at anyone.”
“Pfft! Oh, please. You may have disappeared over the past five years, but I’ve been your sister for your whole life. I was there when you made eyes at Marjorie Lennox. I was there when you made eyes at Julie Smith. I know you. And you may be some badass Marine, but I’m still your big sister, and it’s still my job to protect you however I can.”
“You don’t need to protect me.”
“Someone has to. Anyway.” Mercy turns to Nell and gestures with a hand. “You wouldn’tbelievewhat I found out about our little Peyton.”
“I’m not listening to this,” I announce and turn back to the computer in front of me.
“You don’t have a choice,” Mercy says.
“For God’s sake,” Nell mutter-screams. “What did you find out?”
I give a brief thought to leaving. If Peyton wanted everyone to know her history, she’d tell it herself. Like me, if I were interested in playing armchair psychologist, I’d talk about what happened to me.
That sure as hell doesn’t stop me from listening to what Mercy has to say next.
“Well, I did some searching and she’s still using her legal name, so she must not be trying to hide it. Anyway, some tweakers broke into her parents’ house and robbed the place. They took the family hostage and then killed her parents.”
“That’s awful,” Nell says.
