Mercy Kill_ A Mystery - Lori Armstrong [112]
“Can’t blame me for worrying with all this craziness going on.”
Craziness that you caused by killing Victor Bad Wound?
“Anyway, I know it’s a big day for you, but I wanted to touch base and let you know I’m taking off tomorrow morning.”
“Places to go, people to kill?” I said only half jokingly.
“Yeah, some stuff’s come up. And I think I might’ve overstayed my welcome.”
I didn’t deny it.
Her gaze winged around the room. “I can see why you’d rather sleep here. Does Sophie serve you breakfast in bed, too?”
“Screw you. Sophie would whap me upside the head if I even suggested it.”
Anna smiled. “I know, Gunny, I was just trying to lighten things up.”
When she reached over to squeeze my arm, I flinched.
She froze.
Smooth, Mercy. “Sorry. Habit when I’m nervous.”
“Understood. I’ll see you tonight.”
Anna’s body language changed, as did her expression. I backtracked and became contrite—hard as it was. “You’re coming tonight?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she said brightly.
“I’m glad.” I sighed. “Look, Anna, I’m sorry. I know this wasn’t the type of visit you had in mind, with me being busy with election stuff. It sucks we didn’t get to hang out more . . . especially with what you’re going through. But I’d like to make it up to you. Yes, I’ll be busy tonight, but we should plan on breakfast tomorrow morning before you leave.”
She relaxed. “Great, meet you at the diner? Ten o’clock?”
“It’s a date.”
I hauled my ass out of bed and faced the day.
TWENTY-THREE
Election night in Eagle River County was as laid-back as any other night. No ringing banks of phones. No media demanding real-time interviews. No one obsessing about exit-poll numbers. The polls were closed. The county election workers were tallying votes in the courthouse basement. We’d know the outcome of the election the same time as the Rapid City TV stations announced the winners.
The Gunderson campaign committee was headquartered in the basement of Leo Harvey’s Coast-to-Coast hardware store. I’d suggested Clementine’s. No one had taken me seriously. Or maybe they had, and that’s why we were here.
I looked at the people who’d shown up to support me. Hope with Joy. Jake. Sophie. John-John. Geneva and her brood. Kit. Rollie. Anna. My neighbors. Community members I’d known my entire life. A few people were absent. Muskrat was holding down the fort at Clementine’s with Winona. Kiki was on duty tonight since Dawson and his campaign crew were at the Blackbird Diner, just a block down the street from us. Tempting, to sneak out and peek in the diner windows to see Dawson’s supporters.
Anna had wedged a folding chair into a corner and rested her head against the wall. She appeared to be sleeping, and several people sent disapproving looks her way.
The same disturbing thoughts I’d shoved aside earlier resurfaced. I knew Anna was a killer. It’d never bothered me. Not when I watched her snuff a terrorist. Not when she’d become a private soldier. But it bothered me now.
If I was elected sheriff, could I arrest Anna for killing Victor? Or would I keep my mouth shut and let her go? Really, what purpose would throwing Anna in jail serve? Victor Bad Wound had been a horrible man. Who cared if he was dead?
But no one had cared when Jason Hawley turned up dead either, so I couldn’t help but draw the parallels.
And if I really wanted to throw a monkey wrench into my decision, I had allowed a murderer to go free before. In fact, it’d been my bright idea to cover up the murder. How could I possibly justify letting Jake off the hook for killing Iris, and not do the same for my grieving friend who just wanted to avenge the man she’d loved?
Despite my claims that no one was above the law, I’d taken the law into my own hands several times. Everyone, including law enforcement, already believed Cherelle was guilty of murdering Victor. Seemed logical to say nothing and see how it played out.
“Mercy. How you holding up?”
I faced Leo Harvey. I’d snap like a chained pit bull if one more person asked me