Mercy
“What’s a comfort?”
“Knowing Theo’s going to be there with you.”
Michelle nodded. It was a comfort. She locked the door, flipped off the light, and went back into the bar. Theo and Noah had carried their plates over to one of the round tables and were eating their sandwiches.
One of the regulars wanted a refill. She noticed how bleary-eyed he was and asked, “Are you driving home tonight, Paulie?”
“Connie’s coming by to pick me up after her shift’s over at the plant. She’s my designated driver tonight.”
“Okay, then,” she said, smiling. She poured another glass of beer, noticed how stuffy it was inside, and turned up the speed on the overhead fan. There were only five customers in The Swan. She made sure everyone was happy, then filled two tall glasses with ice water and carried them over to Noah and Theo.
Theo pulled a chair out. “Sit with us.”
She handed Noah his water, then sat down between him and Theo and put Theo’s glass next to his plate.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I sent Daddy home, which means I have to close up the bar tonight,” she said.
“It’s so damned cute that you call your dad ‘Daddy.’ Is that a southern thing?” Noah asked.
“It’s a Renard thing,” she said.
Noah had just popped the last of his french fries into his mouth and was washing it down with a big gulp of water when she asked him if he wanted her to accompany him to her clinic to survey the damage.
“I’ve already been there. I think Theo’s right. Kids didn’t do it. It was a one-man operation. And whoever it was got real frustrated looking for something. Did you notice the desk? The lock was destroyed. Somebody took a long time working at that lock.”
“Michelle thinks maybe it’s one of Robinson’s patients trying to steal his file.”
“Couldn’t a patient simply ask for his records?” Noah asked.
“He could get a copy of his records, but I would keep the original,” Michelle answered.
“I doubt it was a patient. Patient charts are confidential. Everyone knows that. Whatever is in the charts stays private. And why would a patient go to such extremes tearing the place up? If he wanted his records so badly, all he had to do was break in and lift it out from those boxes. No, I don’t think it was a patient, but what does Robinson say? Did he have any pain-in-the . . . difficult patients?”
“He hasn’t returned my call yet,” Michelle told him. “I’ll try again in the morning. He recently moved to Phoenix, and he’s probably busy getting settled.”
“Why don’t you give Noah his phone number and let him talk to him,” Theo suggested. “People tend to sit up and take notice when the FBI calls. And on my worst day I couldn’t be as abrasive as he can be. He’s better at coercion.”
“Yeah, right.” Noah scoffed at the notion. Turning to Michelle, he said, “I’ve seen Theo make grown men cry. It was kind of funny actually . . . watching a coldhearted killer, who happens to be the head of a crime organization, blubber like a baby.”
“He’s exaggerating,” Theo said.
“No, I’m not,” Noah argued. “However, it is true that the average person doesn’t know what the attorneys over in Justice do. Come to think about it, I’m not so sure I know. Besides making criminals cry, what exactly do you do, Theo?”
“Not much,” he answered dryly. “We drink a lot . . .”
“That’s a given.”
“And try to think of things for you guys to do.”
“I’ll bet you do.” Turning to Michelle, Noah added, “Those lazy Justice attorneys make the dedicated FBI agents do all the hard work.”
Theo smiled. “It’s called delegating. We do it so the little people won’t feel left out.”
The insults began to fly, and some of the outrageous things they said were hilarious. Vastly amused, she sat back and relaxed. When the subject eventually returned to her clinic, she said, “I’m not going to worry about this any longer. I’ve been blowing this out of proportion.”
“How’s that?” Noah asked.
“I was so spooked after I saw the mess, I thought I was being followed. You know that feeling you get? It’s hard to explain.”
“I’d pay attention to that feeling if I were you,” Noah said.
“But no one was following me,” she insisted. “I would have spotted him . . . wouldn’t I?”
“Not if he’s good,” Noah said.
“This is a very small community. Strangers would stick out.”
“Yeah? What about a man driving a van with maybe a cable company logo on the side? Would he stick out? And what about all the men and women who come here to fish? If they were dressed in fishing gear and carrying a pole, would you think they didn’t belong?”
Michelle stood. “I see your point, and I appreciate your taking the time to look at the clinic, but I really believe this was just an isolated incident.”
“And that belief is based on what?” Theo asked. “Wishful thinking?”
She ignored his sarcasm. “This is Bowen,” she said. “If anyone had a problem with me, he’d tell me so. Now that I’ve had time to think about it, I didn’t start jumping at shadows until after I saw the clinic. I overreacted. I will remind you,” she hastened to add when he looked as though he was going to interrupt, “that nothing else has happened. You want to find a conspiracy, and there just isn’t one.” Turning to Noah, she said, “I do thank you for coming to Bowen.”
“You don’t need to thank me,” Noah said. “To be honest, I only did the favor to get a favor. Theo’s agreed to drive back to Biloxi with me. He’s going to give a lecture for me, and I would have driven cross country to get out of that. I still have to go finish the training session, but at least I don’t have to write a speech.”
“When do you have to be back?”
“Monday.”
“Oh.” She turned away before either of them could see her disappointment.
Noah watched her walk away. “Damn, Theo, she’s something else. If we were going to stay around for a while, I’d give you a run for your money. I’ve always been a sucker for redheads.”
“You’re a sucker for anything that wears a skirt.”
“That’s not true. Remember the Donovan case? Patty Donovan always wore skirts, and that didn’t do anything for me.”
Theo rolled his eyes. “Patty was a transvestite. He didn’t turn anyone on.”
“He had good legs. I’ll give him that,” Noah drawled. “So tell me something. What’s happening with you and Michelle?”
“Nothing’s happening.”
“That’s a shame.”
“You never told me the topic of the lecture I’m giving,” Theo said in hopes of getting Noah to change the subject. “What is it?”
Noah grinned. “Anger management.”
Theo laughed. “Was this your boss’s idea of a joke?”
“Sure it was,” he said. “You know Morganstern. He’s got a twisted sense of humor. He’s making me run the training program to punish me.”
“What’d you do?”
“You don’t want to know.” Noah paused and then said, “Morganstern could use a man like you.”
“Ah, the hidden agenda comes out at last. Did Pete ask you to talk to me?”
Noah shrugged. “He might have mentioned . . .”
“Tell him I’m not interested.”
“He likes the way your mind works.”
“I’m not interested,” Theo reiterated.
“You’re happy where you are?”
Theo shook his head. “I’m done. All used up,” he said. “I’m going back to the office, tie up loose ends, and hand in my resignation.”
Noah was stunned. “You aren’t kidding, are you?”
“No, I’m not kidding. It’s time . . . past time,” he corrected.
“Then what are you going to do?”
“I’ve got a couple of ideas.”
“Does one of those ideas have red h
air?”
Theo didn’t answer. Before Noah could press, a man came over to the table and asked Theo if he could talk to him about a legal matter.
“Sure,” Theo said. “Let’s sit at the bar.”
He got up, rolled his shoulders to work the kinks out, and then went behind the bar to pour himself a beer. “What can I do for you?” he asked the young man.
Five minutes later, Theo wanted to punch the man. Noah saw Theo’s expression and went behind the bar to find out what was wrong. He heard Theo say, “Jake didn’t suggest that you talk to me, did he?”
“No, but I heard you were helping people who had legal troubles.”
“What’s the problem?” Noah asked. He opened a long-neck bottle of beer, tossed the cap in the trash, and walked over to stand next to Theo.
“This is Cory,” Theo said. “He’s got two kids. A boy and a girl.”
Noah squinted at the unpleasant-looking man. He looked more like a grungy teenager than a father of two children. Cory had long dirty blond hair that hung down in his eyes, and yellow stained teeth.
“How old are you?” Noah asked.
“I’ll be twenty-two next month.”
“And you’ve already got two kids?”
“That’s right. I got divorced from Emily over six months ago because I met another woman I wanted to be with. Her name’s Nora, and she and me want to get married. I’ve moved on, but Emily thinks I ought to keep paying child support, and that don’t seem fair to me.”
“So you want me to help you figure out a way you can get out of paying child support?”
“Yeah, that’s right. That’s what I want. I mean, they’re her kids now. They’re living with her, and like I said, I’m ready to move on.”
The muscle in Theo’s jaw flexed. Michelle was standing in the kitchen doorway, holding an empty pitcher in her hand. She’d heard the conversation and knew from the way Theo’s back had stiffened that he was angry.
His voice continued to be quite mild and pleasant as he remarked to Noah, “Cory’s ready to move on.”
“Are you ready for him to move on?” Noah asked as he set his beer bottle on the counter.
“Sure am,” Theo said.
Then Noah smiled. “Let me.”
“You can get the door.”
Michelle started forward, then stopped. Theo moved so quickly she was astonished. One second he was smiling at Noah and the next he was around the bar, had Cory by the nape of his neck and the back of his jeans, and was dragging him across the floor. Noah raced ahead and opened the door, then got out of the way so Theo could toss the man outside.
“Now, that’s what I call moving on,” Noah drawled as he shut the door behind him. “The little prick.”
“He is that.”
“You know what I wonder? How could such a butt-ugly man get two women to sleep with him?”
Theo laughed. “No accounting for taste, I guess.”
The two men were walking toward the bar when the door behind them opened again and three men rushed inside. The last of the three looked like a bouncer who’d taken one too many hits in the face. The man was huge, at least six foot four, and his nose obviously had been broken several times in the past. He was frighteningly mean looking and carried a baseball bat.
“Which one of you assholes is Theo Buchanan?”
Noah had already turned. He had his eye on the baseball bat. Michelle saw him reach behind his back and unsnap the holster housing his gun.
The bar emptied. Even Paulie, who had never been known to do anything in a hurry, made it out the front door in less than five seconds.
“Michelle, go into the kitchen and shut the door,” Theo said before he turned around. “I’m Theo Buchanan. Now, which one of you is Jim Carson?”
“That’d be me,” the shortest of the three announced.
Theo nodded. “I’ve been hoping you’d stop by.”
“Just who do you think you are?” Jim railed.
“I just told you who I am. Weren’t you paying attention?”
“A real smartass, huh? You think you can lock up my money and fix it at my bank so I can’t even get a nickel out? You think you can do that?”
“I did do that,” Theo calmly pointed out.
Jim Carson looked like his brother. He was short, squat, with eyes that were a little too closely set in his moon-shaped face. He didn’t smile like his brother, though. While Gary oozed false sincerity, Jim was the master of vulgarity. He took another threatening step toward Theo and let loose with a string of grossly obscene blasphemies.
Then he said, “You’re going to be sorry you interfered in my business. Gary and I are going to shut down the mill, and then this town will lynch you.”
“I’d worry about my neck if I were you. How long have you been telling your employees you’re on the verge of bankruptcy? Imagine how . . . disappointed people will be when they find out what your annual take is and what you have squirreled away.”
“Our assets are confidential information,” Jim yelled. “You might know about our money, but you’re an outsider trying to cause trouble, and if you tell anyone, they won’t believe you. No one will.”
“People tend to believe what’s written in the paper, don’t they?”
“What are you saying?”
“I wrote a nice little editorial that’s going to be in Sunday’s paper. Of course, I want it to be as accurate as possible,” he added. “So, why don’t I fax you over a copy of it tomorrow, and you can check it. Personally, I think it’s some of my best work. I listed every cent in every account that you’ve made over the past five years.”
“You can’t do that. It’s confidential.” Jim was shouting now.
Theo glanced at Noah. “You know, I should have added their tax returns for the past five years too. I guess I still could.”
“You’re finished, Buchanan. I’m not going to let you cause any more trouble.”
Jim was so angry, his brow was dripping with sweat. The man had worked himself into a lather, and it was obviously infuriating to him that Theo was unimpressed with his tantrum.
“I’ve only just started making trouble, Jim. When I’m finished with you and your brother, the employees are going to own the mill. It’s going to happen fast too,” he added. “And you will be living on the streets. That’s a promise.”
“You want to put that baseball bat down now?” Noah asked the giant with the nose splattered all over his homely face.
“Shit, no. I’m not putting this bat down before I use it. Isn’t that right, Mr. Carson?”
“That’s right, Happy.”
Theo laughed. “Happy?”
“We live in a strange world,” Noah replied.
“I’m supposed to break Buchanan’s legs with this bat, and that’s what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna hurt you too,” he told Noah. “So you better stop laughing at me, because you’re gonna be sorry.”
Noah was now keeping a wary eye on the third man. He was almost as tall as the giant, but had a thin, wiry frame and large cauliflower ears. Both backup men looked like street fighters, but in Noah’s opinion, Cauliflower was the real threat. He probably was carrying a concealed weapon. Oh, yes, he was the one who could give him real trouble, and he was apparently the surprise element Jimmy Boy had brought along in the event Happy didn’t get the job done.
The bruiser was slapping the butt of the baseball bat in the palm of his hand. The smacking noise irritated Noah.
“Put the bat down,” he ordered once again.
“Not before I break a couple of bones.”
Noah suddenly smiled. He looked as if he’d just won the lottery. “Hey, Theo, you know what?” “What?”
“I’d call Happy’s remarks threats. Wouldn’t you say they were threats? I mean, you’d know, since you’re a lawyer in Justice, and I’m just a lowly little FBI agent. Those were threats. Right?”
Theo knew exactly what Noah’s game was. He was letting the three men know who they were so they
couldn’t say they hadn’t been informed when they were locked up.
“Yeah, I’d have to say they are.”
“Listen, smartass,” Jim said, addressing Noah, “you get in my way, and I’m going to enjoy hurting you too.” He stabbed the air in front of Noah’s face with his stubby finger.
Noah wasn’t paying him any attention. “Maybe we ought to let one of them hit us,” he suggested to Theo. “It would probably look better in court.”
“I can make the case without getting hit. Unless you want to get hit.”
“No, I don’t want to get hit. I’m just saying . . .”
“You think this is a game, sonny?” Jim was bellowing now. He took yet another step forward, poked Noah in the shoulder, and said, “I’ll wipe that smug smile off your face, you son of a —”
He didn’t get a chance to finish the threat. Noah moved so fast, Jim didn’t even have time to blink. But then again, blinking was definitely out of the question. He cried out, then froze and stared with one wide eye at Noah. The barrel of Noah’s Glock was pressed snugly against his other eyelid.
“What were you going to say about my mother?” Noah asked softly.
“Nothing . . . nothing at all,” Jim stammered.
Happy swung the bat in a wide arc while Cauliflower pivoted on his heel and reached inside his jacket.
The loud click of the shotgun as it was being pumped reverberated throughout The Swan. The noise gained everyone’s full attention.
Noah kept his gun pressed against Carson’s face as he glanced behind him. Michelle was leaning against the counter with a shotgun aimed at Cauliflower. Theo moved in and grabbed the weapon from the thug’s waistband. Then he looked at Michelle.
“I asked you to go to the kitchen.”
“Yes, I heard you ask.”
Cauliflower tried to grab his gun. “I’ve got a permit for that. Give it back to me.”
“That’s such a stupid thing to say,” Theo muttered. Cauliflower lunged. Theo pivoted and using two knuckles chopped Cauliflower just below his Adam’s apple. The man reeled back, and as he turned, Theo struck him on the back of his neck. Cauliflower collapsed, out cold on the floor. “I can’t abide stupid people.”