‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ Rafe demanded.
Mercy was spun around, Rafe’s hand gripping her arm. His expression was both panicked and full of rage.
‘Raphael?’ Irina asked sharply from the phone, clutched in Rafe’s other hand. He’d propelled himself from the sofa without his cane and now leaned against the wall for balance. ‘What is wrong?’
Rafe stared down at Mercy, eyes flashing. ‘What is wrong is that Mercy is putting on her coat. Like she thinks she’s going somewhere.’
Even in his anger, his grip was gentle. Mercy had no problem prying his fingers from her arm. ‘Let me go,’ she whispered. ‘Please. I have to make this stop.’
Shocked gasps came from the speaker. ‘Mercy, no,’ Irina cried. ‘You will not sacrifice yourself. Don’t even think it.’
Mercy’s lips trembled. ‘He’s hurting everyone. And he just wants me.’
‘Mercy,’ Karl said, his voice breaking. ‘You will solve nothing this way. Even if you knew how or where to give yourself up, that doesn’t mean he’ll let Damien and the others go.’
If they’re still alive. The words were on her tongue, but she bit them back.
And then her phone began to buzz in her hand. The caller ID read Ro.
‘I think we’re about to find out how and where I give myself up,’ Mercy said quietly.
‘On speaker,’ Rafe demanded. ‘Everyone hush. It’s Farrah’s phone.’
Farrah’s phone. Not Farrah. Mercy hit ACCEPT and the speaker button. ‘Ro?’
‘No.’
Mercy stiffened, the sly voice making her knees buckle. Ephraim Burton. Gripping the closet door, she locked her legs and drew a breath. ‘What do you want?’
‘Only what I’ve always wanted. You, my dear wife.’
Rafe swallowed hard, his jaw bulging from clenching his teeth. But he remained quiet, staring at the phone as if he could make it give up Ephraim’s location.
‘Where?’ was all Mercy could reply. Think. Think, goddammit. Keep him talking. The longer she kept him talking, the better chance they had of tracing this call. Right? Please let that be right.
Ephraim laughed. ‘No arguments? You must think I’m a fool.’
Rafe was busily texting. A glance at his screen showed he was communicating with Gideon. Good. The Feds might be able to track Farrah’s phone quickly.
‘No, I know you’re a sadistic brute who doesn’t mind killing to get his own way,’ Mercy said quietly. ‘I don’t want you to hurt my friends. I don’t want you to hurt anyone else. You want me? Fine. But you don’t touch my friends.’
‘And if I already have?’
Rafe silenced the volume on his own phone before Ephraim’s words could draw more gasps from his parents. The Sokolovs could still hear Ephraim, but he wouldn’t know they were listening.
Mercy shivered, suddenly cold. ‘Then we’re done. I’m not trading myself for dead bodies.’ Rafe glared at her, but she ignored him, focusing all of her attention on the snake on the other end of the line. ‘I want proof of life. Let me talk to Farrah Romero.’
‘You don’t get to make demands,’ Ephraim snarled.
‘Shut up, Ephraim,’ Mercy snapped. ‘You want me. I’m not sure why, but you’ve gone to a lot of trouble to get me. So, because of that, I do get to make demands. Let me talk to Farrah, or this conversation ends right now and whatever you’re trying to accomplish by getting me ends with it.’
She held her breath, counting her own heartbeats in the silence that followed, even checking that the call was still active. It was.
The silence was abruptly shattered by Farrah’s voice. ‘Mercy, don’t you dare. Don’t you dare trade yourself.’
There was the sound of a slap and a low, furious growl from farther away. André. André was still alive, too.
‘Are you hurt, Ro?’ Mercy asked.
‘Not too bad. We’re all still breathing.’ Then Farrah sneezed three times in quick succession. ‘I’m not breathing well, but that’s not Burton’s fault. I just need my allergy meds, that’s all.’
Mercy found herself smiling a little. Her best friend was smart. ‘Damien? He’s okay, too?’
‘He’s lost some blood. He’s—’
‘That’s enough,’ Ephraim said roughly, taking back the phone. ‘You have your proof of life. If you want them to continue breathing, you’ll come alone. No cops. No Feds. No weapons.’
‘And I’m supposed to just believe you’ll hand my friends over? No way. You’re a bastard and you lie easier than you breathe.’ And suddenly she knew what to say. ‘I met your mother, you know.’
A beat of silence. ‘Yes. I know. You stole from her,’ he said bitterly.
Mercy laughed, surprised to hear the sound. ‘Well, that’s open for interpretation, I suppose. You say stole, I say I got a present from her. I have her key, the one she kept in the little treasure chest that Amos made. She gave the key to me willingly. I let her keep the chest.’
Another beat of silence. ‘She wouldn’t have given it to you. She’s not in her right mind.’
‘I don’t know. She seemed pretty lucid to me. We chatted. She said such nice things about Aubrey. Not so much you. You apparently don’t visit her often enough. We got along brilliantly. We even sang your song together. I was close enough to kill her myself and I know exactly where she lives.’
‘You bitch,’ Ephraim snarled. ‘You don’t talk about her. You don’t even say her name.’
‘Belinda,’ Mercy said flatly. ‘Belinda, Belinda, Belinda. You want to play games, Ephraim? I’ll play. I can have your mother in FBI custody before you can end this call. She harbored a fugitive. They can arrest her for that.’
‘They won’t. She’s old.’
‘So? They’ll put her in prison nursing care. They have those, you know. For the lifers who can’t take care of themselves. I can’t imagine it would be nearly as nice as the place you’ve been paying for all this time.’
‘I’m not trading your friends for my mother and if you think I am, you’re the fool.’
Mercy could picture his snarl perfectly and she had to lock her knees once more. ‘I never thought you would. But if my friends aren’t breathing when we make our little trade, your mother will suffer, and I’ll make sure that she knows she’s hurting because of you. Am I clear?’