Dying for Mercy with Bonus Material Read Online Free PDF

have this party, because she knew it was important to me. And I want to thank each and every one of you for being here tonight to celebrate with us and our son, Russell.”
    Heads turned to look at the tall, powerfully built young man standing against the wall. He smiled and nodded at his father.
    Innis stood under a massive Venetian-glass chandelier and held up his drink while the guests raised theirs.
    “All of you have meant something special to us. Valentina and I have known some of you most of our lives. Others we’ve met over the years through Valentina’s time in government, and some are relatively new friends that we’ve gained since we returned from Italy.”
    There were beads of perspiration on Innis’s brow as he continued speaking. “Valentina, carissima, come over here.”
    He kissed his wife on the forehead and put his arm around her.
    “I want to take a moment to talk about the reason we are here tonight. St. Francis of Assisi.”
    “Ah, Innis,” Valentina pleaded. “Do we have to ruin the evening with religion?”
    The assemblage laughed. Innis smiled weakly.
    “I promise I won’t go on too long, dear,” he said, as he took his arm away. “I know that most of you are aware I’ve become devoted to St. Francis, and I guess some of you might find that strange.”
    The room was quiet as everyone listened.
    “All of us have done things which we’d do differently if given a chance. But that’s not the way it works. You don’t get a do-over. All you can do is repent, try to make up for it, and do what you can to ensure that the future is safeguarded. Yet sometimes there are things that, no matter how sorry you are, can’t be rectified.”
    Innis looked down at his shoes and stood wordless for a moment.
    “Anyway,” he said as he lifted his face again, “what I’m trying to say is, I’m so grateful that I’ve been given this opportunity to redirect my life, that this humble Italian saint has shown me what I need to do going forward. As St. Francis said, ‘Our actions are our own; their consequences belong to heaven.’”
    There was an awkward silence in the room as Innis looked out with glistening eyes at his audience.
    “Here’s to St. Francis,” someone called out, breaking the tension. The guests raised their glasses to their lips and drank with enthusiasm and relief.
     

    “Has Innis totally lost it?” Eliza heard one of the guests ask another.
    “He’s always been an eccentric, but this is really strange. He must be driving Valentina out of her mind.”
    “I’m sure. Valentina has never been much of a churchgoer, except when she was running for office.”
    Both of the guests laughed.

CHAPTER 11

    H e was fairly certain that he had slipped out of the house unnoticed. On his way to the greenhouse, Innis looked back over his shoulder. Pentimento glowed as golden light drifted out from the many large windows. He could see his guests talking and laughing inside. Oblivious.
    Under a full moon, he walked across the property and behind the high shrubs that hid the greenhouse from view. Light came through the glass-paned walls of the building, but Innis knew the way without it.
    The hunting knife was in the drawer of the intricately carved Italian worktable, just where he’d put it after he’d had it cleaned and sharpened. A dull blade would have difficulty piercing the skin.

CHAPTER 12

    W hy was Innis creeping about late at night, on his own property, while a party was going on inside?
    The man knew everything. He knew much too much, and if he was true to his word, he was going to make sure that the whole world knew, too.
    Innis said he wanted justice.
    That would ruin everything. All the meticulous planning, all the preparation, all the carefully crafted lies would be for naught. If everything was made public, the dream would be crushed.
    What was he up to now? Why had he stolen away, and where was he going?
    The sound of the greenhouse door closing indicated where Innis was,