A/N: Now we are in the crime part of the story, and we see how D.H. was surprised Patrick made detective I am shaking my head at him he is no Joe West. I ended this chapter on a cliffhanger. But luckily for you readers, I will endeavor to put this story to bed in a few minutes. These chapters are shorter and easier to reread. I may still have mistakes and I still don't own anything. Thanks for reading and supporting.

Chapter Eleven

"His name is Rick Nelson," Patrick said as he pointed to the man in the thick grey hoodie and jogging pants. Sam surveyed him with a critical eye. He had a sharp nose and sagging cheekbones. Skin paler than normal tattled that Rick didn't get out much. His scraggly beard struck a chord with Sam since he too could relate to the facial hair struggle.

Mercy folded her arms over her chest. "How did you track him down, Dad?"

"Your sketch. Someone called the station claiming they'd seen a man who fit the perp's description. He'd been coming in and out of a neighborhood pharmacy for the past month. We followed up and found evidence of drugs in Nelson's apartment."

"That's why you cuffed him," Mercy said knowingly.

"Maybe it's a good thing Penny's not here." Sam rubbed his chin, imagining how upset she would have been if they'd dragged her down here to rehash her assault. "Mercy's testimony is enough to bag him, right?"

Patrick nodded. "Speaking of Penny, do you know if Fran's gotten through to her yet?" Patrick stuck his hands into his pants pockets. "It seems weird that she would just clear out her room without letting us know where she'd gone."

Sam gave Mercy the side eye. "Did you tell her something?"

She threw her hands in the air. "I'm innocent."

"It's a mystery," Patrick mumbled. "But I feel better knowing she's a little safer on these streets."

"Detective Jones!" Patrick's partner barreled toward them. "We've got something you should see."

"You two wait here." Patrick sailed out of the office and the door banged shut behind him.

Silence swiftly filled the room. Sam turned and walked away from Mercy, keeping his head down. The effects of what happened that morning still lingered between them. It was the first time Mercy had glimpsed his darkness and he could tell it had thrown her off-guard.

Maybe even had her reconsidering how she felt about him.

Sam rubbed the back of his neck, battling his own guilt and shame. He shouldn't have let the emotions take control. Now the image of him running at his father with a knife would be printed on the back of Mercy's eyelids just like his mom's death was on his.

"I…" He swallowed. "I know you're still upset."

"I'm not upset," she said.

"Mercy—"

"I'm not upset!" She lowered her voice and pulled her arms over her chest. "I'm… processing everything. We will have a long overdue and much-needed talk later."

He sighed. Earlier, he'd asked her to smile for him. To pretend that things were still the same. But they weren't. He had no excuses for his decision. Love? The way Mercy was looking at him now, he couldn't say she appreciated the effort.

"Maybe we should…" The words were bitter against his tongue. His heart cried for him to shut his trap. He didn't. "Mercy, maybe we should take a break."

Her head whipped up and her dark brown eyes bore through his. "What did you say?"

Sam figured he'd just made things worse and tried to backpedal. "Not permanently. Just until I find another—legal—way to make sure my dad isn't a threat. The best way to keep you safe is to keep my distance. And maybe you can take the time away to forgive me for what happened this morning."

She marched toward him, fire in her eyes. His gaze raked down the set of her rigid shoulders exposed by her black tank top, down to the barely visible sliver of the round belly between her low-slung skinny jeans. He felt a rising mixture of fear and desire welling within him. Even now, when he knew he shouldn't, Sam wanted to hold her.

"Mercy, what are you doing?"

Instead of answering, she shoved him into the desk. He stumbled back, his palms smacking against the wooden rims. Mercy leaned into his personal space and poked him in the chest. "Do you love me?"

"Yes."

She'd asked the wrong question. The answer would always be 'yes'. Asking him 'how much?' would have been harder to quantify in terms available to the English language.

Sam quirked an eyebrow. Watched as Mercy's face darkened the longer she held his stare. The air between them thickened but it wasn't with passion. At least not the kind he would have preferred. Mercy looked too angry. This interrogation didn't seem like it was leading to anything as pleasant as a kiss.

"If loving me means pushing me away when things get hard, then I agree. We should break up. We were stronger together as friends anyway." She brushed her hair away from her face. "But if loving each other means sticking around in the good and the bad times, through hard times and good times, then I want that."

"I love you," he said. They were the only three words that conveyed the depth of his feelings. "I don't want to see you get hurt."

"Then don't hurt me." She nestled her head against his chest. "You wanted to protect me from that side of your life and I understand why now. It'll take me awhile to sort everything out in my head, but I will never reject you. When you're uncertain, don't ask for distance. Come closer to me. Okay?"

Sam braced his hands around her waist. "You're incredible, you know that?"

She smirked. "I try."

"And you're humble too." He lightly slapped her left butt cheek, delighting in the fact that he could do that now. "It's just as nice as I imagined it would be so soft, so big, and juicy," he mumbled in awe.

She laughed, arching her neck and exposing a length of skin he really wanted to explore with his lips. "You are so weird." Mercy caught his eye and warned, "But you better not let my dad catch you doing that."

"I better not catch him doing what?" Patrick asked.

Once again, Sam's instinct was to spring away and act innocent, but Mercy—brazen as she was—slid her fingers down his arm until she'd locked on his hands. Sam squirmed as she lifted his arm around her shoulder and held it right in front of her chest.

Patrick's eyebrows threatened to pop off his forehead, but Mercy smiled sweetly and said, "What do you think, Dad?"

The detective squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. "I don't want to know. And you." He pointed to Sam. "You better marry her first."

"Yes, sir."

Mercy relaxed into him, having no problem draping herself over his body in front of Patrick. It would take Sam a minute to get used to being affectionate with Mercy in front of the man he considered a father figure because D.H. was not his father no one that evil can produce good and Mercy wouldn't be with Sam if he wasn't good enough for her. Her parents wouldn't allow it.

"So Patrick…" He grinned sheepishly. "What did Spivot want?"

Patrick shifted gears, his expression grim. "We need to find Penny."

"Why? Did something happen?"

"The team ran a background check on our perp and came back with a list a mile long. We're talking trespassing, burglary, vandalism, pickpocketing. He's a druggie who'll do anything for his next hit. Not necessarily boyfriend material."

"Okay…?"

"Get a load of this." Patrick opened his phone and swiped to a picture, tossing the phone when he'd settled on the right one. Sam caught the device and held it out so that both he and Mercy could observe it.

He recognized Penny's smiling face immediately. Her hair was blonde and she stared up at the phone with sparkling eyes. Rick Nelson stood close behind her, his face pressed up against her neck and his pale arms around her waist.

"It was buried so deep in his account, Spivot needed a scuba mask to fish it out."

Mercy gasped. "What's this? Were they dating? But… Penny said she didn't know the perp."

"Maybe she was scared to share the whole truth," Sam said, rushing to her defense. "Maybe she felt embarrassed or didn't want to tell on someone she'd once had an intimate relationship with her stalker in case we didn't believe her."

"Or maybe, she was in cahoots with him all the while." Mercedes broke out of his arms and glared at him. "Why are you taking her side?"

"Why are you so quick to accuse her of something?"

"It's all conjecture at this point." Patrick raised his voice to be heard above their fussing. "Which is why we need to reach Penny immediately. In the meantime, I'll try and get Nelson to talk. He's playing hard and asking for his lawyer."

"A punk like that knows a lawyer? Wonders never cease." Sam shook his head. "I hope you have enough evidence to lock him up no matter what his attorney pulls."

"I'll do what I can. Best case scenario, Nelson talks and we take it from there. But I've got a feeling this case won't be so easy."

"Well, keep me updated, Daddy." Mercy walked over to her father and kissed his cheek. "I have a class to get to."

"I'll take you." Sam watched Mercy stroll out of the office and then glanced at Patrick. He twiddled his thumbs and stammered, "About this morning…"

"Already forgotten, son. Just… the next time you feel like committing a crime, try not to do it in front of the place you'll end up when you're caught? That's just stupid."

Sam grinned. "Yes, sir."


Mercedes couldn't concentrate during her classes. Her mind ran circles around Penny's mysterious disappearance and her connection to Rick Nelson. It just didn't make sense. Why wouldn't she tell them that she knew her attacker? They would have brought Nelson to justice a long time ago and settled the case.

She tapped her pen on the desk as the lecturer droned in the background. "Why would Penny not tell us?" she mumbled. "What would she have to lose?"

Mercedes knew Sam was firmly on Penny's side. If she wasn't so secure in his affection for her, she'd be jealous of it. She smiled when she thought of his firm response when she'd questioned if he loved her. Sam was almost insulted that she had to ask.

Their romance aside, his explanation that Penny was afraid to point at Nelson because she feared not being taken seriously still didn't make sense. Mercedes had witnessed the whole thing. She was the daughter of a respected detective and thus a reliable source to back up Penny's statement.

No matter how much she twisted and turned the puzzle, the unnecessary lies had red flags dancing in front of her eyes. Nelson dated Penny a few years ago. At the very least she was acquainted with him. Mercedes recalled asking Penny point blank if she'd known the guy who assaulted her and she said 'no'.

"What does it mean?" Her pen tapped the table harder. "What am I missing here?"

"Miss West-Jones!"

Her hands stilled and Mercedes' gaze flew to the front of the room. "Yes?"

Professor Singh, her criminology teacher, folded his arms over his pleated purple vest. "I didn't realize you were minoring in musical performance. Kindly refrain from drum practice until after my class is over. Thank you."

Mercedes hunkered in her seat and put her pen away. The embarrassment lasted for about two minutes before her thoughts wandered back to the connection between Penny and Nelson. Her instincts screamed that something was wrong, but she couldn't put her finger on what it was…

Drum practice!

She shot up, her desk scraping the tiled floors. Professor Singh's eyes shot to her, as focused as lasers. Mercedes lifted her hand in apology and tiptoed out of class. The moment the doors closed behind her, she sprinted to the bathroom and turned the faucet on.

The water poured into the sink. She cupped her palms under the flow and threw water on her face. She'd been too afraid to voice the thoughts that had popped into her head in front of all her classmates, but in the quiet of the bathroom, her conspiracy theories had free reign.

"This is crazy," she told her reflection. Mercedes gripped the rims of the sink and stared at her face. Fat drops of water dripped down her nose and lips, slowing down on her rounded chin. She brushed her hair back so it didn't get wet and sighed. "No way Penny would do this on purpose."

Her hand was diving for her cell phone and dialing her father's number before she could convince herself to give up on her instincts. Mercedes leaned over the sink as the phone rang. It went to voicemail and she sighed, taking it as a sign that she should stay to her lane and lay off the Lifetime movies, her gut instincts, and her classes.

The peal of her ringtone chimed in the bathroom. Mercedes wrestled for her phone and answered, "Dad?"

"What is it, sweetie?" She heard the rush of voices and activity in the background. "We're in the middle of something."

"It's about Penny." She swallowed and decided to go for it no matter how impossible her theory seemed. "What if she'd known Nelson all along? What if he wasn't assaulting her? What if the target was… me?"

"What? You think Nelson was supposed to attack you?"

"No. No."

She heard the rustle of cloth and then her dad said, "Baby, I'd love to hear your thoughts on the case, but you're not technically supposed to know these details anyway so let's talk about this later tonight."

"Dad, wait! I know it's insane. You've told me a million times that I'm not a cop, even though my major is criminal psychology, but I can't help thinking I'm onto something here. Penny got 'attacked' in the warehouse district a couple of blocks from my band's practice room. What if she knew I was coming and staged a fight so I could intervene?"

"And…?"

"And what?"

"Say she did set up Nelson to make it seem like he was attacking her. She somehow knew you'd want to help and that you'd report her boyfriend. Then what would she gain? Your trust? You think Penny would concoct an elaborate scheme so she could be your friend?"

The wind left her sails. "I… I don't know."

"Looks like everybody's making crazy connections today," Patrick mumbled. "Baby girl, get back to your class and try not to worry. We'll take care of everything."

The dial tone clicked in her ear. Mercedes grumbled and gripped the cell tighter. Her dad didn't believe her, but the fact that he'd poked holes in her scenario made her even more determined to prove it right. Penny intentionally setting her up was the only thing that made sense in the puzzle.

Mercedes picked up her phone and dialed Penny's number. She didn't really expect her to answer, but it was worth a shot. The only person who could clear up the mystery was flying in the wind. Mercedes wouldn't stop until she…

The line snapped. Silence.

"Hello?" Her eyes widened when she realized Penny had picked up. "Hello?"

No answer.

Maybe it wasn't Penny, but someone had picked up. The heavy breathing on the other end of the line could be male or female. Or the undead.

I really have to lay off watching The Walking Dead too.

"Penny?" She tried again. "Are you there?"

"What do you want?" Penny's voice was hard, cold, devoid of the insecure little twang she'd used for most of their acquaintance.

"We need to talk."

"I'm busy. Stop calling me and tell the rest of them to leave me alone too."

"Wait! Don't hang up!" Mercedes licked her lips and offered. "Why don't I come to where you are? We can have a chat."

"I don't want to talk to you. It's best you forget I exist."

Mercedes sensed that it wasn't the time to accuse Penny of lying to her, fooling the police, and plotting some mysterious coup with Rick Nelson. Instead, she softened her voice and said innocently, "I'm worried about you. Let's meet up."

There was a long pause in which Mercedes chewed her thumbnail to the nub. Finally, Penny agreed. "Just you. If I see anyone hanging around I'll disappear. For good."

"I promise I'll come alone. You know I'm good for my word."

They made arrangements and Mercedes hung up. After slipping back into class to grab her bag, she ran out the door and caught a bus to the warehouse district. Penny had called her out to a remote place with few witnesses. Mercedes wasn't stupid. She'd seen too many action movies not to know how this would end.

Just before climbing off the bus, Mercedes sent Sam a text and headed down the street. The move was strategic. Her dad practically lived on his phone and would see her message the moment it landed in his inbox. Mercedes needed time to ferret the truth from Penny. She couldn't do that if her dad was breathing down their necks.

Sam was an old man at heart and regarded technology with a strained detachment. If he were doing something important, he'd finish up and then haul out his phone to check his messages. Hopefully, her gamble paid off and he showed up before anything happened to her. Though there wasn't much that Penny could pull anything that she wouldn't be able to handle. She took down Nelson so she should be able to take care of Penny if the woman decided to get rough.

Mercedes spotted a figure hunched in the shadows and walked further into the alley. "Penny?" she said softly.

The figure turned and she saw Penny's brown eyes flashing at her. "Are you alone?"

She threw her hands up. "Haven't you checked already?"

Penny wrapped her arms around her chest, face gaunt and pale. "I'm here. Make it quick."

"Alright." Mercedes whisked her palms together, scrambling for the perfect question that would cut straight to the point. "Why didn't you tell me you knew Nelson?"

She let out a breath. "What do you mean?"

"Don't play innocent." Mercedes stepped forward threateningly. "We saw a picture of the two of you together on social media."

"Rick," Penny mumbled, her eyes rolling back and forth. "How did you…?"

"He's about to spill his guts to my dad about everything. You might as well come with me and give your side of the story. We know what happened that night was a set-up. What we don't know is why. If you'd just…"

"No! No!" Penny gripped her hair and tugged. "I haven't gotten what I came for yet."

"What you came for?" Mercedes's mind whirred. Suddenly, a line from an earlier conversation with Penny dropped into her mind. "Your father." She snapped her fingers. "Is all of this because of him?"

Penny's eyes widened as she stared at something over Mercedes' shoulder.

A voice whispered in her ear, "Sorry, Ms. West-Jones, this is going to hurt."

D.H.?

Before she could move, something crashed against the back of her head and everything went black.