‘I’m sorry,’ Mercy mumbled.
Sasha waved her apology away. ‘Introduce us properly, Mercy.’
‘Sasha, this is my best friend, Dr Farrah Romero. Farrah, Sasha Sokolov.’
Sasha lifted her perfectly arched brows. ‘Doctor?’
‘I’m a biophysicist,’ Farrah explained. ‘I work for a university.’
Sasha nodded. ‘Very cool. If you’re willing, I’d love for you to chat with my youngest sister, Zoya. She wants to be a doctor. A medical doctor, I think, but she’s only seventeen, so . . .’
Farrah smiled. ‘I’d be happy to talk to her.’
‘Excellent.’ Sasha shook her head. ‘Where are my manners?’ She took a cat carrier in each hand and gave a low whistle. ‘Shit, Mercy, how many cats you got in here? And are they sitting on bricks?’
Farrah nodded. ‘Right? They’re behemoths.’
Mercy made herself smile, because her anxiety was beginning to build again. There were too many people here. Too much noise.
‘Hey,’ Farrah murmured, sensing her tension. ‘Go sit down. I’ll get our bags.’
Mercy shook her head. ‘I’ll go get our rental car and meet you at the pickup curb.’
‘Nope,’ Sasha said. ‘No renting of cars needed. I drove my father’s SUV today, which you will be borrowing while you’re here. He never drives it anymore, not since he got the Tesla.’
Tesla? Really? Farrah mouthed.
‘Karl owns a successful marketing agency,’ Mercy told her, then turned to Sasha. ‘That’s not necessary, really.’
Sasha gave her a long, long look. ‘Yes, it is. Gideon is family. You are Gideon’s sister. Therefore, you are family, and no family of ours rents a car when they visit.’
‘I’ll be here for a while,’ Mercy said, flailing for some argument she could make stick in the face of the tsunami that was Sasha Sokolov.
‘Better still,’ Sasha returned. ‘Also, I already stopped at the pet store this morning for cat supplies. Food, litter, a litter box. Even some toys. So once we get your suitcases, we can go straight to my place, where you can rest.’ With that, she stalked off toward the baggage carousel, handling the cats as if they weighed nothing.
‘Wow,’ Farrah said with clear admiration. ‘I’m impressed. It took me years to bulldoze you like that and she figured it out in a few weeks. Are they all like that?’
Mercy sighed. ‘Yes. They have a large family.’ A big, noisy, pushy, boisterous family who loved each other so much. Who loved Gideon so much. ‘There are eight kids, and Mrs Sokolov is as big a force of nature as Mama Ro.’
Irina Sokolov had also bulldozed her way through Mercy’s defenses, mothering Mercy as if she’d been another Sokolov. Mercy had balked at first, preferring solitude as she’d sat by Rafe’s hospital bed, but Irina hadn’t allowed it. They’d developed a natural rapport and by the end of her visit, Mercy had grown fond of the older woman, missing her counsel when she’d fled back to New Orleans. It will be good to see her again.
‘And Sasha’s brother?’ Farrah asked slyly. ‘Is he a force of nature?’
Ignoring Farrah’s innuendo, Mercy honestly considered the question. ‘No. There’s a . . . a quietness with Rafe that the rest of the family doesn’t seem to possess.’ At first she’d thought it was because he’d been injured and was in pain, but she’d quickly learned that his quiet ran deep, but that he hid it from his family and she’d never asked why. She wasn’t sure if she’d wanted to know, because knowing would foster the closeness that Rafe had wanted, but that had scared her to death. ‘Or at least I didn’t see it in the two weeks I was here.’
‘I cannot wait to meet him,’ Farrah said. ‘I’ll help Sasha find our bags. Why don’t you go to the ladies’ room to freshen up? It’ll be quieter there. We’ll wait for you by the door over there.’
Mercy nodded, grateful. ‘I will. Thank you.’ She paused a moment, though, watching Farrah and Sasha getting to know each other by the baggage carousel. Farrah said something that made Sasha throw back her head and laugh and in that moment, she looked so much like her brother that Mercy’s heart hurt.
Rafe had laughed like that. Not often – he’d been in too much pain – but once or twice she’d say something wry and his laugh would boom out, joyful and happy. He’d been golden in those moments. Beautiful. Untouchable by someone like me.
And then that last time, the last day she’d been there, he’d sobered, staring at her as if he’d never seen her before. Stay, he’d murmured. Let’s see where this goes. Please. And then he’d kissed her, shattering everything she’d thought she’d known about who she was and what she wanted.
That was what had made her run home, the straw that broke the camel’s back. That terrifying, beautiful, amazing kiss. He should be so angry. Maybe he wouldn’t even want to see her again. Maybe she should find a hotel, like right now.
Or maybe she should grow the hell up and stop being a frightened child. Deliberately turning her body, Mercy headed for the ladies’ room, trying to calm the butterflies in her gut that had changed to angry bees.
Sacramento, California
Saturday, 15 April, 5.00 P.M.
Finally. Ephraim had been waiting for hours, his own flight from New Orleans having landed early that afternoon. Mercy had led him on quite the merry chase, with two cross-country flights in under a week.
He’d booked his flight to Louisiana as soon as he’d seen Mercy’s face on the TV on Monday night. Or at least as soon as he’d recovered from his shock at seeing her alive when he’d thought her dead for thirteen years.
The CNN interview had been full of shocks. Mercy was still alive. She’d survived being abducted by a serial killer. But there was another victim – Eileen, who’d been given the name of Miriam when Ephraim had married her. Now she was dead at this serial killer’s hands. And the most dangerous shock of all – Miriam’s locket had been found and was now in the hands of the police. Which meant that, unless Miriam had removed their wedding photo from the locket, the cops now knew his face.
Fortunately, he no longer wore the pirate patch like he had in the photo. Not out in the world anyway. Only in Eden, because no one in the community could know that he’d gotten surgery none of them would have access to.
But the real chances of the cops knowing his face were slim. If they had his picture, they’d have it spread all over the TV. Just like Mercy’s had been in that broadcast.
The CNN reporter had been so helpful, telling her viewing audience where Mercy now lived. Ephraim had followed Mercy around New Orleans for days, learning her routine. He’d planned his grab for last night, only to learn from her neighbor that she was flying back to Sacramento and he’d missed her.