Midnight Jewels

upstairs?"
    He glanced at the two-story building ahead of him. "Yes." He got out of the car and followed her silently up to the room. It was the heaviness of his tread as he wearily climbed the steps that told Mercy just how exhausted he still was. Normally he moved soundlessly. When she unlocked the door he stepped inside.
    "I'll get the luggage," Mercy said.
    When she got back to the room she found him sprawled on the bed, sound asleep.
    She needed sleep, too. Mercy set down the luggage, aware of the weariness in her body. She went into the bathroom and stared at her drawn face in the mirror. The sight was not inspiring.
    A few minutes later she curled up beside Croft and closed her eyes, wishing for the same deep slumber he had found so easily.
    Twenty minutes later she was still awake. She began to wonder if she would ever be able to sleep again.

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Chapter SIXTEEN

    Croft awoke with something less than his usual instant awareness, but he knew he had slept off most of the effects of the poison or drug as well as the additional adrenaline he had forced into his system to deal with Dallas and Lance.
    The additional dose of adrenaline had probably helped eat up what had remained of the poison or drug after Mercy's first aid. But the combination of the two had left him totally drained. He had never been so exhausted in his life.
    He had a vague memory of following Mercy up to the motel room sometime around dawn. The bright mid-morning sunlight was visible between the curtains now. Croft stretched, testing his muscles and strength. Then he turned his head on the pillow and looked for Mercy. She should have been sound asleep beside him but she wasn't even on the bed.
    He shouldn't have made her drive out of the mountains the previous night, Croft thought, but there had been no other option. He had wanted to put distance between them and Gladstone and knew he wasn't capable of driving.
    As usual, he thought with an inner wince, he hadn't given Mercy much choice. He never seemed to give her much choice.
    Mercy hadn't complained or argued, though. She had simply gotten in the car and driven out of the mountains, even though she must have been tense and tired herself. And even though she had witnessed more violence within a span of a few hours than most people saw in a lifetime.
    A good woman and a good friend. Hie kind he could depend on in a crunch. She had proven that more than once last night. He still remembered what it felt like to be staring down into eight feet of glowing blue water.
    Croft levered himself up on one elbow and looked for Mercy. He wondered why she wasn't sleeping beside him on the bed. Maybe she was in the bathroom. Or perhaps she had awakened and gone out for breakfast.
    But she wasn't in the bathroom and she wasn't at breakfast. She was sitting cross-legged on the worn carpet, still wearing her jeans and the pullover she had tossed on before leaving Gladstone's estate. Her eyes were closed and her hands were resting palms up on her knees.
    She was meditating, Croft realized. He was so surprised he spoke without thinking.
    "Mercy? Are you all right?"
    Her eyes snapped open and her head turned quickly. He saw the unnatural brightness in her gaze and realized tension was still consuming her.
    "No," she said starkly, "I am not all right. I can't sleep, I can't think, I can't settle down. My insides feel as if they're racing along at a hundred miles an hour."
    "It's the stress," Croft said quietly, understanding what was happening to her. "Sometimes it hits you like that afterward."
    "After what, Croft? After finding you nearly drowned in a swimming pool? After being hunted through a ghost town by a couple of jokers with guns? After driving out of the mountains in the middle of the night when any sane person would have waited until daylight? After deciding not to report attempted murder to the authorities? Don't be ridiculous. Why should a few little incidents like that bother me? They sure don't seem to bother you. You've been sleeping like a log."
    She was wound up tighter than a bed spring, Croft realized. He sat up slowly, pitching his voice to a low, soothing level. "It's okay, Mercy. Calm down. Everything's going to be all right. You just need some rest. You're a little high-strung at the moment, but after you've had some sleep you'll be fine."
    "The hell I will. And I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't speak to me as if I were one of those Dobermans. I've been sitting here for an hour trying to