Midnight Jewels

to operate on my own."
    "Well, you're not on your own," she said through gritted teeth. "I'm here, remember?"
    He stopped and turned around so quickly she almost ran into him. "Believe me, I'm well aware of your presence."
    Mercy opened her mouth and then closed it abruptly. Croft had told her he never made threats, so what she saw in his eyes had to be a statement of fact. He did not want to hear any more arguments on the subject of good citizenship. Mercy decided to shut up.
    Croft studied her face, nodded once in satisfaction and then continued down the alley.
    There was no point arguing with a ghost, Mercy told herself.
    She maintained her silence while Croft collected the unconscious bodies of Dallas and Lance, tied them hand and foot with a cord he found in the Jeep and left them in what had once been the Drifter's Creek general store.
    Mercy kept quiet while Croft did a quick survey of the contents of the Jeep, turned off the lights and then drove the vehicle to the side of the road and hid it among the trees. He wiped off the steering wheel and door handles when he got out.
    She didn't say a word as the Toyota was carefully extracted from its hiding place among the trees. It was Croft who finally broke the silence.
    "You'll have to drive. I've used up everything I've got. I need rest. Get as far as you can before dawn and then find a motel." He didn't wait for her response. He handed her the keys and went around to the passenger side of the car.
    He fastened his seatbelt, leaned his head back against the head rest and closed his eyes.
    Mercy could have sworn Croft was asleep before she drove the car through Drifter's Creek.
    I've used up everything I've got.
    His words floated through Mercy's head frequently as she made the long drive through the mountains that night. The man beside her in the car wasn't just napping or dozing. He was sunk deep in a heavy sleep that bordered on unconsciousness. She wondered once or twice if she should try to find a doctor, but something told her Croft wouldn't appreciate the act.
    She realized she was experiencing a strange combination of exhaustion and tension that would have made it impossible for her to sleep. She probably shouldn't be driving, either, Mercy told herself. But Croft had said to get as far as she could before dawn.
    So she drove on into the night, her eyes never leaving the excruciatingly twisted pavement that flowed endlessly into the path of the headlights. Her hands were frozen on the wheel. Her nerves continued to dance with the remnants of adrenaline. She was aware of the exhaustion waiting to ensnare her, but her mind and body were too keyed up to give into it.
    She couldn't have surrendered to sleep, anyway. Croft had said she had to drive. He would never have ordered her to do it if it hadn't been necessary. Someone had to get them out of the mountains and he couldn't do it.
    I've used up everything I've got.
    Croft was not really a ghost, Mercy thought. He was just a man. Any resemblance between Falconer and a supernatural specter was purely coincidental.
    She wondered if Dallas and Lance would have believed her.
    The first pale shift in sky color appeared as the mountain road widened and began branching off in different directions. She picked one of the side roads at random and wound up in a small town a few miles from the interstate.
    There were two motels. Mercy picked the larger one which seemed to be favored by truckers. There were three big rigs in the lot. She parked the Toyota near one of them.
    Croft spoke without opening his eyes. "Use a fake name, fake license and pay cash."
    "How can I fake the license? They can check it."
    "They won't."
    He was right, Mercy reflected. Motel desk clerks rarely doublechecked the license plates of the cars in their parking lots.
    A few early risers were already stirring, checking out at the front desk and carrying their bags to their cars. The desk clerk didn't seem to think it strange that Mercy was checking in so early in the morning. He was probably accustomed to truckers' driving hours.
    Mercy collected the key and went back to the car, wondering how she was going to get Croft upstairs. If she couldn't wake him long enough to get him out of the car, she would have to leave him where he was. She certainly couldn't carry him.
    He didn't move as she approached the passenger side of the car, but his eyes suddenly opened.
    "We're checked in," Mercy said gently as she unlatched the door. "Can you make it