Mercy

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

A whole day had passed since the package had been delivered. Cameron waited again with the others in John's library for Dallas to arrive to give them Monk's report.

The waiting was making him crazy. Dear God, how had he arrived at this place? What had happened to him? He had had such dreams, such hopes when he'd started out. Where had it all gone wrong?

Now he felt as though he were trapped in a ghoulish game of beat the clock. Every hour that passed was an hour closer to the iron bars slamming shut on him. When he closed his eyes, he could hear the sound of the door locking him in.

"We can't just sit on our hands and do nothing," Cameron said. "It's been a day now. The clock's ticking. We've got to do something and do it fast."

Preston agreed. "I say we drive to Bowen tonight."

"And what do you propose we do when we get there?" John asked.

"Anything is better than sitting here waiting for the police to come and get us," Preston argued. "The longer we wait-"

Cameron cut him off. "I'm through waiting. If I have to take matters into my own hands, then that's what I'm going to do."

John slammed his fist down on the desk. "The hell you are," he roared. "We're in this together, and you aren't going to do

anything unless we all agree. Do I make myself clear?"

"Since when did you become our leader?" Cameron muttered. Shaken by John's fury, he tried to regain the upper hand.

"I don't remember voting for you," he blustered.

"I made all of you a fortune," John said. "And that makes me leader."

"This isn't getting us anywhere," Preston said. "Everyone just calm down and try to be reasonable. Maybe Dallas will have

some good news for us."

"That's another thing," Cameron said. "How come Monk won't report to any of us? Why does he have to go through Dallas?

He's getting his money from all four of us, and we should be able to get hold of him any time we want. Hell, I don't even know Monk's cell phone number."

"I think Cameron's right. Why can't we talk directly to Monk?"

"The two of you are obsessing over a minor detail," John said. "Dallas brought Monk in, remember? Maybe our killer doesn't like meeting with the four of us because he doesn't trust us."

"Bull," Preston said. "Dallas just likes running him. It's a stupid power play if you ask me."

John was irritated. "I don't give a damn who he gives his report to as long as he gets the job done."

Dallas was standing in the doorway listening to the conversation. "You want Monk's phone number? Two-two-three-one-six-nine-nine. Happy now, Cameron? What about you, Preston? Want to know his home address?

Even I don't know that, but I could put a tail on him and find out… if you want that information too."

"Tell me you've got good news," Preston said, ignoring the sarcasm.

"If you're asking me if Monk has the package, the answer's no."

"He still hasn't found the damn papers?" Cameron asked incredulously.

"The package has to be in the hospital," Preston said. "It's the only place Monk hasn't been able to search thoroughly."

"Then get him back in there," Cameron demanded.

"I told Monk to stay on Renard," Dallas said. "He can't be two places at once, and besides, he already looked through her

locker at the hospital. Remember what I told you, Cameron? He even had an aide helping look around the ER. He can't just

waltz in there and start opening drawers. Use your head."

"I don't like assumptions." John made the statement as he rocked back and forth in his swivel chair behind the desk. "I'm not convinced Michelle Renard didn't take that package with her when she left the hospital. Just how thorough do you think Monk

was when he went through her house and her clinic? Maybe he was in a hurry…"

"Bull," Dallas said. "He's a professional, and he did his job. Why wouldn't he be thorough? He's going to make a hell of a lot of money the second he hands over the package. He wants to find the files as much as we do."

Turning to John, Preston said, "God damn your wife. She put us in a hell of a situation here."

"Get real. We killed her, remember?" Dallas said.

Cameron buried his face in his hands and leaned forward on his elbows. "John, you're the one who got us into this nightmare, you son of a bitch."

John remained calm. "What's done is done. We have to think about the future."

Cameron shouted back. "What future? If we don't get those papers, it's over."