He took the stool next to hers. ‘I’ll fill a thermos with coffee. No booze around here, though. Daisy’s eight years sober, so we all abstain. Solidarity, you know.’
‘Straight coffee is perfect.’ She held up her coffee cup. ‘To making Ephraim Burton pay.’
Rafe’s expression grew grim as he touched his cup to hers. ‘To bringing the motherfucker down.’
Mercy nodded once. ‘I’ll drink to that, too.’
Sacramento, California
Monday, 17 April, 7.30 A.M.
Rafe locked his apartment door, a backpack full of supplies at his feet. He glanced up the stairs to where Mercy was changing her clothes in Sasha’s apartment, and wondered what was taking her so long.
It had been long enough since he’d been with Bella that he’d forgotten how much time women needed to dress themselves. And he’d never really had that intimacy with Bella. Their time together had been a series of stolen moments and rushed lovemaking.
When Mercy was ready, he was going to take his time.
And I’m not going to think about that now. Because he had to share a vehicle with her for the next ten hours or so and he was not doing that with a hard-on.
He busied himself in the garage, packing up the Subaru with cold-weather gear. He threw one of Sasha’s parkas in the back along with a few blankets and the tire chains. If they ended up on any of the mountain roads, his Subaru would be fine.
Glancing at his phone, he frowned. Gideon must have still been asleep, because he hadn’t answered any of Rafe’s texts. He started to call him, when he heard voices in the foyer. Opening the door to investigate, he stopped short, surprised. ‘Erin? I thought you were going home?’
Erin had her hand on the front doorknob and jumped at the sound of his voice. ‘Dammit, Sokolov. Don’t sneak up on me.’
‘I should wear a bell,’ he said placidly. ‘I thought you were going home last night. Please tell me that you didn’t sleep in your car all night.’
Erin winced a little. ‘No, I didn’t sleep in my car last night.’ Then she hopped out of the way when the front door shoved open.
‘I think I should use the bathroom, too,’ Sasha said, then saw Rafe staring. ‘Shit. Why are you awake?’
‘Why are you awake?’ Rafe shot back.
‘We’re going to breakfast,’ Sasha said, more as a question than a statement. ‘We just finished a morning run. We both drank a lot of water and . . .’ She waved at nothing, but her cheeks were uncharacteristically pink.
‘Breakf—’ Oh. Oh. Rafe’s lips twitched. ‘Okay.’
‘Smart move,’ Sasha snapped. ‘Especially since Mercy didn’t come back last night.’
‘She fell asleep on the sofa,’ Rafe said. Not a lie.
Sasha wasn’t buying it. ‘Why are you awake, Rafe?’
‘We’re going for a drive.’
‘Before eight a.m.,’ Erin said dryly, not even bothering to hide her suspicion. ‘Alone.’
‘I’m ready,’ Mercy said from the second-floor landing. ‘Sorry I took so long. Needed to give Jack and Rory some love.’ She stopped on the bottom step, eyes widening at the sight of both Sasha and Erin.
Rafe blinked, then blinked again. She looked so different. Her hair was up in some kind of bun-thing and a pair of thick glasses dominated her face, making her green eyes look owlish. Her cheeks were hollowed out, her cheekbones too sharp. And there was a black beauty mark above her lip. He leaned forward, squinting, to be sure it was actually Mercy. She was still stunning, but not the woman with whom he’d shared pancakes and bacon. ‘What the hell did you do to your face?’
She chuckled. ‘Just some makeup. I took out my contacts, so I could wear my glasses.’ Her smile faded. ‘It’s my best attempt at a disguise. I’m not ready to deal with the fallout from that video. Not yet.’
His heart felt sore. ‘I get it. And I have to say, you did an amazing job. I didn’t even recognize you.’
Erin was watching them. ‘That’s a lot of trouble for a little drive. And is that a pair of mittens in your hand?’
Sasha pushed past Rafe, into the garage, where she stood next to the open hatch of the Subaru, hands on her hips. ‘They’re going into the mountains,’ she told Erin. ‘He’s got blankets and tire chains.’ She frowned. ‘And my parka?’
‘You guys planning a run for the Canadian border?’ Erin asked, not joking.
Mercy aimed a wary glance in his direction but said nothing.
‘Nope.’ Rafe might have asked Erin to go with them since Gideon hadn’t answered any of his texts, but her overbearing interrogation was pissing him off. ‘Just a drive.’
Erin nodded. ‘You can’t get out of the driveway. I’m parked across it.’
Rafe ground his teeth. ‘Can you move your Rover? Please?’
‘Sure. Once I’m satisfied with an explanation that contains the actual truth.’
Sasha returned to the foyer, holding her fist out to bump. ‘Go, girl.’
Erin bumped it, her lips curving. ‘Well, Rafe?’
‘She’s really good,’ Mercy said, sinking to sit on the stairs. ‘She’s got me feeling like I’m five years old and about to be sent to the corner. You might as well tell her. I’d like to get on the road.’
‘To where?’ Erin asked.
‘Likely,’ Rafe bit out.
Sasha frowned. ‘Likely . . . what?’
Mercy snorted. ‘So we can avoid the “Who’s on First?” routine, we’re going to Likely, California. It’s up near the Oregon–Nevada border.’
‘Why?’ Erin pressed, drawing out the single syllable to at least three.
Mercy tapped at her phone, then held it out to show Erin and Sasha. ‘This quilt. It was bought at a store north of Likely, back in October.’
Erin took her phone and studied the photo of the quilt, then enlarged the image. And gasped softly. ‘It’s the angel with the flaming sword.’
Sasha hung over Erin’s shoulder so that she could see. ‘Where?’
‘Down at the bottom.’ Erin pointed. ‘Right here in the corner.’
‘Oh my God. It’s like the angel on the locket. And Gideon’s old tattoo.’ Sasha looked from Rafe to Mercy. ‘Was this quilt made in Eden?’
Mercy nodded. ‘By Eileen’s mother. She taught me how to quilt when I was barely old enough to hold a needle. I’d know her signature anywhere.’