Mercy's Magic by P. J. Day Read Free Book Online

wearing elaborate earpieces and with semi-automatic weapons strapped around their shoulders.
    But it was what they were printing that surprised Mercy. “They’re making money ,” she whispered to herself. Particularly and exclusively one hundred dollar bills, printed by the thousands. She also noticed vast empty slabs of concrete on the floor which was used for drying the counterfeit cash, alongside state of the art cutting machines and workers bundling the finished bills with machine-like precision. On the far side were stacks and stacks of the loot, tied together and placed on pallets near a garage door lift—obviously waiting to be picked up and transferred somewhere.
    Mercy almost lost her grip. She pulled herself back onto the ladder at the last moment. Without warning, she felt someone or something possibly sensing her presence, as if a pair of all-seeing eyes were staring at her. Mercy closed her own eyes and tried to set a protective block around herself; a mental cloak of sorts that Aunt Itzel had taught her over a year ago. And it seemed to almost work. Almost.
    She risked one last look at Javier who was now pouring a jug of a thick, black oily substance into a container. The black ink streamed down his stained hands and arms. That was the smell! Mercy thought. The smell she’d detected on his shirt was no ordinary ink, and from the looks of it, she determined it was quite extraordinary. This was no amateur set-up at all.
    Mercy glanced away from the window and down to the train tracks below. Suddenly it all made sense to her.
     
    * * *
     
    Through a soot-stained office window, Ariel Caliban watched Mercedes Cruz peer through the large window as she spied on his plant. He was masked, as were the guards, not only to keep their identities secret if intruders were to actually infiltrate their operation, but it ensured that they didn’t inhale any of the carcinogenic ink that had been puffed into the air by the massive printing press.
    Nobody saw his eyes smoldering at this woman who so blatantly watched him break a dozen or more federal laws. Whoever she was, she’d be sorry, Arial thought to himself.
    He tried to get a sense of her, but she ducked away from the window and blocked herself from view every time she felt his eyes firmly planted on her. Does she sense me watching her? Ariel wondered. He then smiled to himself and felt an urge had to find out more about this woman and just what kind of power she might hold.
    There was no doubt there were metaphysical mind games at play here, considering she moved away from view every time Arial narrowed and dilated his eyes for a clean look. “This is turning to be quite the diversion,” he said out loud. “How does she know? Whoever she is, there’s a tough lesson coming for being such a metiche.” A word Arial always used for anyone who dared to be such an obvious snoop.
     
    Chapter Thirteen
     
    The next morning, Mercy knocked on Joe Patterson’s opened office door. “Hey, you.”
    Joe’s eyes perked when he saw her. “I was just thinking about you.”
    “Yeah?” Mercy nodded, entered and took a seat. “That’s kinda swee…”
    “No, really. I was going to call you. I got the results back from forensics on the shirt. You’re not going to believe it...” His enthusiastic smile wasn’t lost on Mercy, but she just had to beat him to the punch.
    “Counterfeit,” she declared. “That’s the nasty smell. A special kind of ink. Am I right?”
    Joe’s jaw dropped. “How in the world did you know that?”
    “I found him. Javier. At this dank and creepy print shop. Last night I scoped the place out, and I saw the whole operation with my own eyes.”
    Joe whistled. Took a swig of coffee. “You are something else, Mercy,” he said, as he took out his notepad and pen. “How’d you find him? The place? And what did you see?”
    Mercy brought him up to date on the previous evening’s exploration. When she finished, Joe stared at her in