Mercy Read online

  American Express had a credit card receipt with Jamie's signature at The Rooster's Comb, the swanky restaurant where they'd had dinner Saturday night. The manager of the Red Lion Inn di-recred Graham to the newlywed couple whose wedding Maggie and Jamie had crashed, who of course remembered them, and were surprised to hear that the couple who could jitterbug like professionals were not friends of either of the families.

  Graham had had a difficult time finding eyewitnesses for Sunday, the day Jamie had taken his wife out to memorize the world. A hot dog vendor who had a spot at the park near the mountains where Jamie said they had been might have seen them, but he couldn't truly remember. Bud Spitlick had been mowing his lawn when the MacDonalds returned to their house at about five o'clock that night.

  On Monday, a gas station attendant in Cummington had filled up the tank with unleaded and had chatted with Jamie as he wiped the windshield. He remembered Mr. MacDonald saying they were taking an impromptu vacation--remembered, in particular, the word "impromptu" because he hadn't known what it meant. The Wheelock Inn register had Maggie's signature, on behalf of Mr. And Mrs., entered at 11:15 a.m. The bartender in the lounge broke down when Graham asked if he remembered selling Jamie the champagne, saying he couldn't help but wonder if he'd sort of aided things along in the murder by getting Jamie drunk.

  The owner of the pizzeria did not remember seeing Jamie MacDonald that Monday night, but then again he did not speak much English, so he might not have understood Graham's question.

  On Tuesday afternoon Jamie had driven to the police station, as the police chief and Allie and any number of town eyewitnesses could verify.

  But from Monday night to Tuesday afternoon, Graham's board was a blank.

  He stuffed the remainder of the doughnut into his mouth and traced his finger over those gaping white holes on the dry-erase board. There was no telling what exactly had gone on in the room at the Wheelock Inn between eight-thirty Monday night and one p.m. Tuesday afternoon. Jamie and Maggie could have had a vicious, sniping fight. Jamie's mind could have snapped. Or Jamie might have simply been saying goodbye.

  Graham hung his head and rubbed his hand over his hair, making it stand up in unruly tufts. He knew that, like his own, the jury's collective eye would be drawn not to the tangle of proof scribbled all over the board, but to those glaring white spaces. More than any tale he could weave as a defense, those blank spots invited interpretation. Everyone loved a mystery; everyone loved to be involved in the process of writing the story.

  He pictured the unknown faces of the jurors, inventing their own versions of the last night of Maggie's life, and he wondered if even one of them would approximate the truth.

  Cam had had every intention of taking his time at the card store to find something just right for Allie, but the DUI Zandy brought in for booking started throwing things off the counters and shoving Zandy and the other officer on duty, until it took all three men to physically restrain the asshole and get him into a lockup.

  "I can't fucking believe this," Cam said to Zandy. "How come the crazy ones get arrested on the weekends when we can't ship them out for a bail hearing?"

  The other officer, Maclver, was a middle-aged, part-time cop who'd worked for years with Cam's father. "Same reason your kids get sick when the doctor's office is closed," he said. "Just to piss you off."

  The prisoner began to hurl his body hard against the door of the cell. "Hey!" Cam yelled. "You want to take it easy?" He glanced at the custody report and turned to Zandy and Maclver. "You two okay here, or do you want me to call in a backup?"

  "The National Guard would be nice," Zandy muttered as a gob of spit hit the inside surface of the Flexon. "Or a few sacrificial natives to feed him for dinner."

  The prisoner was as tall as Cam himself and twice as meaty. Cam wasn't worried about the man getting out of the cell, but he'd certainly be a pain in the ass. "I can call the courthouse," he suggested. "Maybe we can get someone out here to set bail and ask the sheriff to ship him to the county lockup."

  Zandy shot Cam an appreciative look. "Whatever. Just make sure you leave in time to get down to New Braintree."

  Cam had told Hannah and the other officers that he was attending a training seminar. He knew no one would doubt his word if he said there was a special weekend meeting for police chiefs on gun safety. With a nod, he went to his office and sat down.

  He called the courthouse and got a court clerk to round up a bail officer; then he set the phone back in its receiver. He had meant to call Mia to finalize plans, but time had gotten away from him this morning, and by now she'd be at the flower shop--or even on her way. With a sigh, he stood up and walked out of his office and locked the door behind him. "They say they'll send someone out by the end of the day," Cam said to Zandy. "You want me to call from the road?"

  Zandy shook his head. "Contrary to what you believe, Chief, we can function without you here." He grinned and nodded toward the door. "Go on."

  Cam almost drove to Allies shop, until he remembered her Valentine's Day gift. Making a U-turn in the middle of Main, he headed for the card store on the other side of town. He turned on the radio and sang along with Van Morrison. As he pulled into the parking lot, the midday news was coming on in the announcer's nasal drone.

  Cam glanced at the clock on the dashboard. Noon. Shit.

  He ran into the card store, grabbed a box of candy, pulled the first card with a heart off the shelf, and drove fifteen miles over the speed limit back to Glory in the Flower.

  Allie was bent over her bonsai tree, carefully rewrapping the painstakingly twisted limbs. "Hi," she said, her eyes fixed right on the bag in his hands.

  "Where's Mia?" he asked, the way he had practiced a hundred times that morning.

  Allie shrugged, wiping her hands on her jeans and moving closer to Cam, her hands hovering about the paper bag like honeybees. "She asked for some time off. Her aunt's sick again."

  Cam nodded in sympathy. "That means you'll be all alone this weekend. You gonna be okay?"

  She smiled. "I can function quite well without you, thank you very much," she said, and she reached into the bag.

  Cam sat down on one of the work stools. "That's the second time someone's said that to me today."

  Allie ran her thumb beneath the sealed edge of the envelope. "And what does that tell you?" She pulled the card out of the envelope, red with a big pink heart on the front. HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY, DAD, she read. She opened the card. I MAY BE DIFFICULT, BUT AT LEAST I'M CUTE.

  He had signed it Love, Cam. Thinking she must have been mistaken, Allie closed the card again. HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY, DAD. "Is this a joke?" she asked, smiling tentatively.

  Cam stared at her. "What are you talking about?"

  She waved the card beneath his nose. "Happy Valentine's Day, Dad?"

  Cam snatched the card from her hand. He scowled at the front and passed a hand down his face, rubbing his eyes. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

  Allie blinked at him. He wasn't thinking? He couldn't even read a stupid card to see what it said before he bought it for her?

  She looked down at her hands, still stained with soil and scratched by sharp ends of copper wire. She didn't want him to leave in the middle of an argument. She bent over the bonsai tree so that Cam would not be able to see the thoughts skittering across her features. Maybe she was making too much of this. Maybe he had other things on his mind.

  She just wished she were one of those things.

  "Well." She set the card and candy on the worktable beside the bonsai tree. She picked up a pair of wire cutters. "You probably want to get going."

  "Yeah," Cam agreed, coming to his feet. "You never know what kind of traffic you'll hit."

  They both came toward each other, awkwardly hugging around Cam's gun belt and Allies wire cutters. Cam kissed the top of her head. "Happy Valentine's Day," she said brightly.

  "Happy Valentine's Day," he murmured. His chin was tucked over Allies shoulder, and he could see out the b