Dying for Mercy with Bonus Material Read online

  Dear Reader,

  People often ask me which of the books I’ve written is my favorite. That’s like asking me which is my favorite child. Please, don’t make me choose. But if I were forced to make a list, Dying for Mercy would be right up there.

  Dying for Mercy offers a view of a closed world, features an ingenious puzzle, and climaxes in a surprise ending. It’s fast-paced and suspenseful. It’s the kind of book I love to read and aim to write. I’m proud of it. I hope you’ll enjoy Dying for Mercy and will make it a point to read the other eleven books that take place in the super-charged atmosphere of KEY News.

  I’d also like to tell you about To Have and to Kill, the first book in my new series: The Wedding Cake Mysteries. In To Have and to Kill you’ll meet Piper Donovan. A struggling actress with no immediate prospects and a recently broken engagement, Piper moves back in with her parents to take stock of her life. She steps tentatively into the family bakery business, and finds herself agreeing to create the wedding cake for the star of a daytime television drama. But soon deadly things start happening around the bride-to-be and it seems that somebody is ruthlessly determined to stop the wedding. Piper is right in the middle of all the action and, aided by her quirky parents and former neighbor Jack, an FBI agent, she gets closer and closer to figuring out who has a motive for murder.

  Who doesn’t love a fairytale wedding, a fantastic cake and a fast-paced mystery?

  I’ve tried my best to come up with clever plotting, appealing characters, and a driving narrative. With romance, family, sweets and suspense, there is something for every reader in To Have and to Kill. I hope you’ll try this fresh series, featuring new characters, different settings but the same great suspense.

  Happy reading and all the very best,

  Mary Jane

  Mary Jane Clark

  Dying for Mercy

  with Bonus Material

  Once again, for Elizabeth and David.

  And for Steve Simring, who helped me solve my own puzzle.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Sunday October 4

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Monday October 5

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Tuesday October 6

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Wednesday October 7

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Thursday October 8

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Friday October 9

  Chapter 70

  Chapter 71

  Chapter 72

  Chapter 73

  Chapter 74

  Chapter 75

  Chapter 76

  Chapter 77

  Chapter 78

  Chapter 79

  Chapter 80

  Saturday October 10

  Chapter 81

  Chapter 82

  Chapter 83

  Chapter 84

  Chapter 85

  Chapter 86

  Chapter 87

  Chapter 88

  Chapter 89

  Chapter 90

  Chapter 91

  Chapter 92

  Chapter 93

  Chapter 94

  Sunday October 11

  Chapter 95

  Chapter 96

  Chapter 97

  Chapter 98

  Chapter 99

  Chapter 100

  Chapter 101

  Chapter 102

  Chapter 103

  Chapter 104

  Chapter 105

  Chapter 106

  Chapter 107

  Chapter 108

  Chapter 109

  Chapter 110

  Chapter 111

  Chapter 112

  Chapter 113

  Monday October 12

  Chapter 114

  Chapter 115

  Chapter 116

  Chapter 117

  Chapter 118

  Chapter 119

  Chapter 120

  Chapter 121

  Chapter 122

  Chapter 123

  Chapter 124

  Chapter 125

  Chapter 126

  Chapter 127

  Chapter 128

  Chapter 129

  Chapter 130

  Chapter 131

  Tuesday October 13

  Chapter 132

  Chapter 133

  Chapter 134

  Chapter 135

  Chapter 136

  Chapter 137

  Chapter 138

  Chapter 139

  Chapter 140

  Chapter 141

  Chapter 142

  Chapter 143

  Chapter 144

  Chapter 145

  Chapter 146

  Chapter 147

  Chapter 148

  Chapter 149

  Chapter 150

  Chapter 151

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Other Books by Mary Jane Clark

  Credits

  To Have and To Kill Excerpt

  To Have and To Kill cover

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  PROLOGUE

  A FEW HOURS FROM NOW…

  The moonlight trickled through the glass roof. He pulled a large clay pot from the corner of the room and sat on the cold ground beside it. Then he removed his shoes and socks.

  To be accurate, he would have had to use thick nails and a lance to make the wounds—but how would he be able to hammer the nails into both his hands or maneuver the long spear into his own side? The hunting knife would have to do.

  He held the blade in his right hand first. He drew up his knees so that his feet would be as close to the rest of his body as possible. Leaning forward, he positioned the point of the knife over his foot. He closed his eyes and pushed.

  He let out a long groan while pulling out the knif
e. Then he quickly repeated the motion on the other foot. He tried to block his mind from the searing pain, directing his thoughts instead to the greater good that would come from this act.

  Turning his left palm upward, he held the back of his hand against the ground to steady it. The knife found its mark in the middle of his lifeline.

  He must act quickly, not knowing how rapidly he would bleed out or if he would lose consciousness. He transferred the hunting knife to his left hand, opened his right hand, and stuck the blade into his palm. There was only one thing remaining to do.

  SUNDAY OCTOBER 4

  CHAPTER 1

  You look pretty, Mom.”

  Facing the mirror, Eliza stared at the reflection of the child standing behind her in the middle of the bathroom floor. Janie was wearing her soccer uniform. One kneesock was bunched around her thin ankle, dirt smudged both her knees, and more wisps of brown hair sprang free from her ponytail than were caught up in it. Her cheeks were still slightly flushed from running up and down the school field. Turning, Eliza bent and kissed her seven-year-old daughter on the top of the head.

  “Thank you, sweetheart.” Eliza held herself back from gathering the child in her arms and holding her close. It was a familiar urge now, the desire to hang on to Janie and not let go. Almost three months since the kidnapping, and Eliza still woke up in a cold sweat many nights. How close she’d come to losing her only child, the daughter whose father had tragically died before she was even born, the little girl who was at the center of Eliza’s world.

  “I want to come with you,” said Janie.

  “I wish you could, honey, but it’s a party for adults. There won’t be any children there.”

  “But Valentina and Innis would want me to come,” insisted Janie, hands on hips. “They like me. When we went to their house that time, they said I could come again anytime I want.”

  Eliza turned back to the mirror and picked up a tube of mascara. “I know they did. And we will go there again. Remember I told you about the little house we’ve rented near the Wheelocks’? Our lease starts next week. I’m sure we’ll be able to visit Valentina and Innis when we go up there on weekends.”

  Janie’s expression brightened. “Can we go in the birdhouse?”

  “It’s called an aviary, Janie, and I think that can be arranged.”

  “You know, they have a bird in there that talks,” said Janie.

  “A parrot?”

  “Uh-huh. Innis showed me. And it can tell you what it likes.”

  “Really?” asked Eliza as she put gloss on her lips.

  “Yep. It says ‘sun’ and ‘air’ and ‘grapes.’ It likes to eat grapes.”

  “You’ll have to show it to me,” said Eliza.

  Mollified, Janie followed her mother as she walked into the bedroom, went to the closet, and took the jewelry case from the wall safe.

  “Which ones should I wear?” Eliza asked as they sat side by side on the bed. “The pearls or the garnets?”

  Janie considered carefully before answering. “The dark red ones,” she said decisively. “They’re the color of your dress.”

  “Good choice,” said Eliza, fastening the stones to her ears. She stood, slipped on her heels, and took a last look in the full-length mirror.

  “What kind of party is it, Mom?” asked Janie as they left the bedroom and went down the stairs. “A birthday party?”

  “Not exactly,” Eliza answered. “It’s a party to celebrate the feast day of St. Francis of Assisi.”

  “Are you bringing him a present?”

  Eliza laughed. “No, sweetheart, he won’t be there. St. Francis died a long time ago.”

  “Then why are they having a party for him?”

  “Valentina and Innis want to celebrate his spirit. St. Francis was a very good and holy man who did many things to help many people and animals in his lifetime. He’s the patron saint of Italy, and when Valentina and Innis lived there, they became very devoted to him.”

  “Did people give him parties when he was still alive?” asked Janie.

  “I don’t think so,” said Eliza. “He taught repentance. Parties weren’t on his agenda.”

  “That’s too bad,” said the child.

  “I doubt that St. Francis thought so, Janie. He loved nature and animals and wanted the people who followed him to live simply and take care of other people. I suppose St. Francis would consider a party like this frivolous.”

  Janie cocked her head to the side. “What does ‘frivolous’ mean?” she asked.

  “Silly, not really important.”

  Janie considered this. “I don’t think my birthday party is silly. I think it’s very important.”

  “Of course it is,” said Eliza, “but as you get older, a birthday party, believe it or not, isn’t always something you want. Besides, I bet St. Francis would rather see the money spent on his party go to feeding the poor.”

  While Janie thought about this, Eliza looked out the living-room window and saw yet another car driving slowly past her house. The place where they lived had become a tourist attraction since the kidnapping. Sightseers strained for a glimpse of the famous mother and the daughter who’d been the subject of a nationwide search.

  Eliza hated the loss of privacy. Ordering tall evergreens to be planted along the front of the property might help shield them from prying eyes, but she knew the drive-bys would continue.