Quality of Mercy (Danielle Ross Mystery Book #5)

Gilbert Morris

Description

Successful sleuth Dani Ross faces her most harrowing challenge ever when an embittered parolee threatens revenge against the Ross family.

Informations

• Publié par: Baker Publishing Group
• Date de parution: 01 octobre 1993
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781441239914
• Langue: English

Extrait

© 1993 by Gilbert Morris

Published by Revell a division of Baker Publishing Group P.O. Box 6287, Grand Rapids, MI 49516-6287 www.revellbooks.com

Ebook edition created 2013

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

ISBN 978-1-4412-3991-4

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC

Scripture quotations in this volume are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.
This is, at times, a very dark and lonely earth we walk through, but from time to time we meet those who brighten it. I have met one who brings splashes of light into this darkness, And I dedicate this book to him—

To Bill Petersen, who has made my way easier.
Contents

Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication

1. The Gospel at the Project
2. Flowers for Dan
3. Fast Company
4. Dinner at Henri’s
5. Fragile Things
6. A Visit from an Old Friend
7. Death Out of Season
8. Ben’s New Love
9. Savage Sends an Invitation
10. A Message for Tommy
11. Sixkiller Makes an Offer
12. Ben Goes Home
13. Dan Makes a Case
14. A Favor for Stormy
15. Fatal Call
16. Celebration
17. A Visit with Dom Lanza
18. Undercover
19. Doing Business in the Quarter
20. Rendezvous at Alligator Annie’s
21. “Don’t Let Yourself Hate—!”
22. The Drop
23. The Quality of Mercy

Books by Gilbert Morris
Back Cover
1
The Gospel at the Project

C olonel Daniel Monroe Ross had been a stern commander of his Virginia regiment. Now his portrait, formal in Confederate gray, complete with red sash, glared down from its place on the wall of Danielle Ross’s New Orleans office. The full lips seemed about to open. And if they had, Colonel Ross would no doubt have barked at his great-great-granddaughter as he had once rebuked his staff officers when he was displeased:
“Woman—stop that infernal bickering! Do what you’re going to do and stop blathering about it.”
But Dani’s ancestor could not speak and was reduced to staring down with fierce disapproval at the two figures below him. What he saw was a man and a woman in the center of the room, squared off like boxers in a ring, and biting off their words as they argued.
Danielle Lynn Ross was tall, and her 135 pounds were trimly clad in a black piqué two-piece dress with large white buttons and a striped jacket with black insets front and back. The jacket, shirred and padded at sleeve caps and tightly fitted at the waist, accented her well-formed figure. She wore no jewelry except a pair of black and white drop earrings joined by a gold ring. It was a simple costume that only a woman completely confident of her appearance could wear— the sort that not only men would turn to look at, but envious women as well.
Her face was squarish and her mouth was too large for classic beauty It was excellently designed, however, for other things, such as expressing anger, which it did now.
“You can keep your grubby hands to yourself, Ben Savage!” Her voice was deep for a woman, and it rasped when she was angry.
“You’ve got a one-track mind, Boss,” the man snapped back. He was no more than five-ten, and his deep-set hazel eyes flashed with anger as he balanced on his toes, looking more like a champion middle-weight boxer than a private detective. “You think every man who crosses your path goes gaga after one look at you.” He had a Slavic face, square with a shelf of bone over his eyes, and his short nose had been broken. His hair and eyebrows were black, very coarse and unruly.
They stood there glaring at each other, and tension filled the office. The quarrel had exploded unexpectedly, like a land mine. Savage had come in to give a rather ordinary report on one of his cases. He did not like working for a woman, a fact he concealed rather poorly, although he had finally accepted the fact that as a boss, Danielle Ross was almost as adequate as a good man.
Dani, for her part, had not wanted to hire him in the first place. When she first assumed charge of Ross Investigations after her father’s heart attack, she had planned to use female operatives. She had quickly been forced to rethink that posi tion, however, and reluctantly taken on Savage—whom she disliked on sight. An ex-aerialist with the circus, an ex-Marine (highly decorated), an ex-homicide detective, he had proved to be an asset to the company—and, at least in Dani’s opinion, an all around pain-in-the-neck.
But the two of them had fallen into a strange partnership during the first year, a love-hate relationship which neither of them liked, but could not walk away from. Most of their fights centered around Dani’s profession. Savage insisted that she was trying to be a man, while Dani insisted he was so threatened by her ability that he used that charge to bolster his own insecurity.
The present skirmish had begun when Dani remarked, “I’m going down to hear Luke speak tonight.”
Luke Sixkiller was the head of homicide for the New Orleans Police Department. He had the reputation of being one of the toughest cops in the country, but he had recently been converted to Christianity—mostly under the influence of Miss Danielle Ross. Sixkiller had kept his job but begun speaking all over the city, giving his testimony, and Dani had been so thrilled with his growth that she seldom missed a chance to attend.
Dani’s announcement had brought Savage’s gaze up in a sudden motion. He had studied her, then said, “You’re going to have to decide if you’re going to run a detective agency or a Sunday school, Dani.”
It was an unexpected reaction, for Savage had generally been supportive of Dani’s Christian commitment. He himself was not a believer, and he had come to Ross Investigations with the expectations of seeing his employer fall into inconsistencies. Over time, he had grudgingly admitted that Dani was a Christian on and off the job. Her interest in Luke Sixkiller, however, had for some reason become a sore spot with him.
Then Savage had added fuel to the fire by remarking, “That meeting’s over in the middle of the Project, isn’t it? Over there, they play with guns in their cradles instead of rattles. It’s not safe for you to go.”
“I can take care of myself, Ben!” Dani had shot back—and it was at that point in the argument that Savage had stepped forward and put his hand on the small of her back. She knew instantly that he was checking to see if she was wearing the .38 designed to be concealed at that spot, but had been so angry over his attitude that she had shoved him away, accusing him of fondling her.
Now, with her green eyes sparking, she grabbed her purse and stalked out of the room, firing back, “You just do your job, Savage!” She turned to see her father and Angie Park bending over a table, pretending to be deaf. Dani faltered, then added weakly, “Dad, I’ll be in late tonight.” She shot a bitter look back toward her office, adding, “I’m going to a service with Luke.”
“All right, Dani,” Dan Ross nodded. He was a tall man with thick white hair and patrician features, but thin and hollow-cheeked since his illness. “I’ll leave the light on for you,” he added as she left the room. Then he turned to Savage, who had emerged with a scowl on his face. “I take it you’ve had a little spat with the boss, Ben?”
Savage liked Dan Ross as much as he had ever liked any man, but now he glared at him accusingly. “I’ll bet you raised her on the Spock method, didn’t you? That old malarkey about not paddling a kid?”
“As a matter of fact, yes.”
“I thought so!” Savage scowled, then grunted, “Angie, if you’ll dig up that stuff on Parkinson from the attorney general’s office, I’ll close the thing tomorrow. Good night!”
He left the room abruptly, his spine still rigid with anger, and Angie leaned back and looked after him. “I’d diagnose Ben’s trouble as a terminal case of jealousy,” she remarked.
Angie was twenty-nine, but looked at least five years younger. She was an attractive woman with blonde hair and round blue eyes. A disastrous marriage followed by a battlefield divorce had built a wall around her and posted a sign “No Men Need Apply.” She was, however, a tender-hearted woman, and was known to violate her own rules. She was totally dedicated to Dani Ross and her father.
Dan gave her a quizzical look that changed to a frown, then shook his head. “When those two first met, I thought it’d be a case of double homicide. Then, when they’d worked on a couple of tough cases, I thought it’d be a marriage. Now—I don’t know what it is.”
“How serious is Dani about Luke Sixkiller?” Angie wondered aloud. “He’s always liked her, but she’d never have much to do with him.”
“Don’t ask me,” Ross said impatiently. “I’m only her father.”
“You’re closer to her than anyone,” Angie persisted. “She’s always depended on you, told you stuff.”
Ross ran a hand over his hair, a harried look in his fine gray eyes. “I don’t know, Angie.” He had always hated uncertainty, but since his heart attack, he had been forced to live with it almost daily. He had regretted having to ask Dani to give up her studies at seminary, but Ross Investigations was his life’s work. Nobody had been prouder than he when Dani had come at once and had made the agency into a moderate success. Still, he worried about her.
“I don’t think she knows what she wants, Angie,” Dan said finally. “She’s not really happy—and shooting that man didn’t help her any.”
“I know. It still bothers her a lot, even though she did it to save those kids. She won’t carry that gun, either, and that makes Ben mad.”
Ross tried for a smile. “Children never get raised, Angie. The good time is before they learn to walk and talk. You just do what’s best for them and then let them bawl. After