complacent. Her word, not mine. She knew he’d never give up, but, like the rest of us, she hoped he was dead. She was worried about Liza because of the way she left this afternoon.”
Tom felt his cheeks heat at the question in Rafe’s direct gaze, but there was no way he was going there. Especially when he didn’t understand it himself. “She was upset for a while, but I think her friend helped cheer her up.”
“Her friend?”
“Mike.” The groper. Smug bastard.
“Right.” Rafe shook his head again. “If the e-mail trace is a bust, what else do you have?”
Tom opened his mouth, then closed it again. “I can’t talk about those things.”
Rafe pulled a notepad from his pocket. “Good thing that I can talk about it.”
“What?”
Rafe waved the notepad. “A summary of my own Eden project file.”
“You’re not—”
“Supposed to be working on it. Whatever. If you can’t talk to me, you can listen.”
Tom settled on his stool. “I wondered what you’d been doing for the last month. I figured you wouldn’t sit idle when it came to Mercy’s safety. Hit me.”
EIGHT
ROCKLIN, CALIFORNIA
WEDNESDAY, MAY 24, 8:00 P.M.
Mercy dipped her spoon into the carton of rocky road. “Why don’t you just talk to him?”
Liza rolled her very sore eyes. Because as soon as she and Mercy had been alone, Mercy had opened her arms and patted Liza’s back while she cried. “He had a fiancée. Her name was Tory.”
“Oh.” Mercy winced. “Was?”
“She was killed. Murdered, actually. It was a little more than a year ago, when I was still in Afghanistan. He went dark, wouldn’t talk to me, wouldn’t answer any of my e-mails.”
“A year isn’t all that long, is it?”
“No.” That Liza had lost her own husband wasn’t something she wanted to discuss, even with Mercy. So she added the one fact that would ensure Mercy understood. “She was pregnant.”
Mercy paled. “Oh no.”
“Yeah. So I get it. I do. He’s not ready. And when he is, it won’t be for me.”
“So what are you gonna do?” Mercy asked practically. “Avoid him forever? Move out and share custody of the dog?”
“Maybe. I’m going to try to get a room in the dorms for this semester. It might be too late, but I’ll get one for next year. That’ll give Tom time to find a new renter.”
“I was being sarcastic,” Mercy said.
“I wasn’t.” She ate some ice cream, then sat back to study her friend. “You’re not okay.”
Mercy laughed, the sound harsh. “No, I’m not. I figured we could be not okay together.”
“Is Rodriguez still outside?”
“For another hour. They do the shift change and Agent Fisher comes on. She’s a fan of Irina’s cooking, so I always save her a snack for later. It’s in a cooler in the back of Rafe’s Subaru, along with a late-night snack for Rodriguez to take home.”
Liza smiled. “Those guys are going to miss guarding you when this is over. I bet they’ve never eaten so well.”
Mercy’s smile was strained, but real. “They’ve fallen in love with Irina.”
“I have, too. She makes me miss my mom.”
“Me too. Oh, I nearly forgot.” She pulled a baggie from her pocket, filled with loose tea. “Special tea,” she said, waggling her brows. “Irina set you up. She sent dinner for you, too. I forgot it in the car, but Rafe can get it before we leave.”
Liza chuckled, and it made her feel so much better. “That woman,” she said fondly. “I’m going to miss her.”
Mercy’s brows flew up. “Why would you miss her? You’re going to nursing school in Davis, not Timbuktu. She’ll still expect you to come to Sunday dinner.” Her brows lowered, a frown furrowing her forehead. “You are still planning to come to Sunday dinner, aren’t you?”
Fuck no. Tom will be there. “I’ll probably be busy,” she managed stiffly.
“Bullshit.” Mercy shook her spoon before digging back into the ice cream. “You are not going to dump us because Tom Hunter is a clueless dick.”
Liza choked. “He’s not a dick.”
“He made you cry,” Mercy said stubbornly. “And he is clueless.”
“Totally clueless,” Liza agreed. “But not a dick. He’s a good man.”
“You are hopeless. If he’s such a good man, then grab him and talk to him.”
Liza started to reply, then glared. “Hey. I see what you did there. I said that you’re not okay and you—quite deftly, I have to say—turned the conversation back to me.”
Mercy sighed. “What do you want me to say? Yes, I’m scared. I’m always scared. And I’m tired of being scared. I’m kind