Mercy (The Night Man Chronicles Book 3) Brett Battles (online e reader txt) 📖

intense scrutiny—Bergen’s and my size difference being the main problem—I don’t think it’ll be an issue. If Chuckie checks the security camera, he’ll see exactly what he expects: Bergen delivering the postcard and leaving. It’ll be the yellow piece of paper that is of interest to him, not the courier.

Jar’s and my larger concern when we were planning was that Chuckie would be at the dealership waiting for Bergen, since he’s been unable to contact him. But Evan’s dad is in his office at home. My guess is that as much as he wants to be here, he knows he and Bergen should not be at the same place at the same time in the middle of the night.

Guess what? Chuckie has been checking his security footage. As soon as I’m on my motorcycle, heading to the duplex, Jar tells me he just accessed the camera system and is now heading to his car.

I don’t want him to pass by me, so I take side streets all the way back.

When I walk into the duplex, Jar looks up from her computer and says, “He is almost there.”

As interested as I am in watching what’s about to happen, I’m a bit distracted by the fact Evan is sitting beside her, looking at her screen. And by a bit, I mean completely.

“Uhhhh,” I say.

Jar looks at me, confused, then follows my gaze to Evan and scoffs. “You already told him everything. What is the big deal?”

I give her a look meant to convey it is a big deal, but she ignores it and says, “Hurry up. He’s parking now.”

I strip off my jacket and join her and Evan. I frown at him, which he returns with a sheepish grin before we both look at the screen.

Chuckie parks on the lot and enters the building through a side door. Jar switches between interior cameras, following him all the way to the showroom, where he stops and looks around.

“Anyone here?” he shouts.

He waits several seconds, and then slinks over to the yellow postcard and picks it up. Unlike last time, he doesn’t take it to his office to read. When he’s seen all he needs to, he takes a deep breath, relieved to know the Whittaker fire is set for Thursday night.

He heads back to his car and drives off. Jar switches to the tracking app to make sure he goes home.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?” I say to Evan.

“I wasn’t tired.”

I look from him to Jar and back. “You can never tell anyone you saw this. I mean anyone. Police, FBI, whoever. As far as you know, you weren’t aware that anything was going on. And you absolutely can never mention us.”

“Don’t they know about you already?” he asks. “I mean, you’re the ones doing the investigation.”

“Do you know what a black ops mission is?”

“Um, it’s a military thing, isn’t it?”

“It can be, but not always. It’s a secret mission. So secret that the agency who initiates it will deny its existence. Think of our investigation kind of like that. We’re going to make it easy for the usual authorities, but they’ll never know we had our hand in it.”

“You mean you’re not law enforcement?”

“We’re on a whole other level than your normal law enforcement.”

“I can keep my mouth shut, if that’s what you mean.”

He’s responded to my nonanswer with a nonanswer of his own. Have I told you how much I like this kid?

“Yes,” I tell him. “That’s exactly what I mean. So, will you?”

“Yeah, of course. No one will ever know.”

It’s the best I can hope for.

“Now might be a good time for you to go to bed,” I suggest.

“Oh, uh, sure.”

It’s good he’s choosing to not press his luck by trying to stick around. Smart move.

“Good night,” he says as he gets out of his chair. “And-and thank you again for helping me and my brother. I…” Whatever else he was going to say, he decides to keep it to himself and just gives us a nod and heads toward the back.

Once we hear the bedroom door close, I walk to the hallway to make sure he actually went inside the room. He did. But who knows? He might have his ear pressed against the door, hoping to overhear our conversation. I know I would in his position.

I return to Jar and say in a low voice, “Remind me about the part of the plan where we show Evan everything.”

“I did not change the plan. You did.”

Okay, technically she’s right, but—

“I told him a few things to keep him satisfied,” I say. “That’s it. I didn’t show him all that.” I wave at her computer.

She grimaces. “I did not do it on purpose. I went into the kitchen to get some water. When I returned, he was at the table, looking at my screen. He is very quiet.”

She’s right about that. So right that I shoot a glance at the hallway, half expecting to see Evan lurking there.

“I thought it would be better to share with him some of what we’re doing than to tell him to forget what he saw and return to his room,” she adds.

Given the circumstances, it was the right call. Doesn’t mean I’m any happier about it.

“We need to put a cowbell on that kid,” I say.

“What is a cowbell?”

“It’s a bell you put on a cow. You know, so you can hear where she is.”

“Huh,” she says. “Then we definitely need a cowbell.”

“You mean we need more cow—you know what? Never mind.”

She stares at me like I’m crazy, then looks at her computer. “Chuckie is home.”

That’s good news. The last thing we need is Chuckie wandering around Mercy. Especially since we have one more task to take care of tonight.

Jar and I put the still unconscious Bergen into the bed of our truck, which is backed into his open garage. I’ve moved his Accord a block away.

After we make sure his house looks like it normally would, we take him to the Travato,