Mercy
By
Wendy Saunders
Also By Wendy Saunders
The Guardians Series 1
Mercy
The Ferryman
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This book is the intellectual property of the author and as such cannot be reproduced in whole or in part in any medium without the express written permission of the author.
Copyright © 2015 Wendy Saunders
All rights reserved.
IN LOVING MEMORY
OF
dOREEN aRCHER
25TH mAR 1929 - 22ND aPR 2015
For my Nana, who taught me that love is the tie that binds the tightest.
CONTENTS
Chapter 1 1
Chapter 2 8
Chapter 3. 16
Chapter 4. 27
Chapter 5. 37
Chapter 6. 45
Chapter 7. 53
Chapter 8. 59
Chapter 9. 69
Chapter 10. 77
Chapter 11. 87
Chapter 12. 94
Chapter 13. 106
Chapter 14. 117
Chapter 15. 125
Chapter 16. 135
Chapter 17. 143
Chapter 18. 152
Chapter 19. 158
Chapter 20. 167
Chapter 21. 174
Chapter 22. 181
Chapter 23. 187
Chapter 24. 193
Chapter 25. 200
Chapter 26. 205
Chapter 27. 211
Chapter 28. 220
Coming soon 225
Author The Author 229
Chapter 1
Welcome to Mercy, Massachusetts
Pop. 13,623
Olivia sat staring at the sign through the intermittent swipes of her wiper blades.
What… the hell… was she doing?
Shaking her head she flicked the gear into reverse but still she paused, her lower lip caught in her teeth and her brow folding into a frown. Letting the gear drop back into neutral she stared once again at the sign.
Her fingertips tapped out a thoughtful staccato on the steering wheel and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
Why had she thought this was a good idea?
She hadn’t set foot in Mercy since she was a child. After everything that had happened she’d done the one thing she had sworn never to do. She had returned home.
She was crazy for coming back; Mercy was a small town, with a small town’s mentality. It wouldn’t be long before the town gossips started spreading the word that Olivia West had returned. Then all anyone would be talking about was how her father had murdered her mother.
She let her head fall back against the headrest of her seat and her hands drop from the steering wheel as she listened to the engine idling quietly and the rhythmic tapping of the rain.
She should just put the car in reverse and leave now.
Except, she released a slow breath, she couldn’t. She could feel it even now, the low thrum of power that pulled at her. Something was calling her back, she could feel it chilling her bones and whatever it was she was powerless to resist its call.
She scrubbed her hands over her face; she was so tired of arguing with herself. Opening her eyes Olivia noticed that although the rain had slowed, the sky was darkening and she couldn’t continue to sit parked at the side of the road all afternoon.
A sudden banging on her window had her biting back a scream as she saw the flashing police lights in her rear view mirror. Taking a deep breath to still her jumpy heart she wound down the window, blinking back the cold raindrops that bathed her face.
‘Ma’am’ The officer nodded, ‘Is everything all right?’
‘Yeah,’ Olivia sighed, ‘Everything’s fine.’
Her eyes dropped to the badge pinned to his chest and noted the name ‘Deputy Walker’, her gaze flickered back to his face, so open and earnest and young. Actually everything was pretty damn far from fine, but she wasn’t about to admit that to a complete stranger and a cop at that.
‘I’m afraid you can’t stop here.’ He offered with an easy smile as the rain dripped from the rim of his hat.
‘I know,’ She murmured.
‘Do you need any assistance?’
‘No,’ Olivia’s mouth curved as she looked up at him, ‘Just a backbone.’
‘Ma’am?’
‘I’m just about to head into town.’ She straightened in her seat, ‘thanks for checking on me.’
‘No problem,’ he nodded, ‘you be sure and drive safe, the road ahead is slippery.’
‘You have no idea,’ Olivia murmured as she watched him return to his car.
Putting the car into drive she eased forwards and took a deep breath. About half a mile down the road she started hitting the outskirts of the town and it was as if she’d just stepped back in time.
The place had barely changed, the Dunkin’ Donuts was new, but Walkers Auto was still there, as was the Sidecar Diner. Shaking her head lightly as a small smile played on her lips she passed the library and headed east onto Walnut drive and then north onto Maple St.
Well there was no turning back now. No matter how much she didn’t want to there was one stop she needed to make before she headed up to the Stick house.
Slowing down she pulled up to the curb, her heart was pounding now and there was a low pitched buzzing in her ears. Climbing out of the car, she pulled her jacket tighter against the wind noting that the rain had started to pick up again.
The ground almost seemed to ripple beneath her feet as she took a tentative step forwards. There was the empty lot, sandwiched between two houses, where her home had once stood. She’d ridden her little red bicycle on this very sidewalk, rolled across the lawn with her faithful dog Truman. She’d sat out on the back stoop on clear nights and watched fascinated as her father had pointed out the constellations.
She took another step closer and the memories washed over her in waves. Unaware of the downpour and the fact she was now soaked to the skin, she moved closer to the lawn.
The house was long gone, it had burned to the ground the night her mother died and it seemed no one had bothered to re-build it.
But, she noted curiously, someone had gone to the trouble to care for the lawn and plant a beautiful garden. Even this late in the year it still burst with colours so vivid, it was like she had stepped inside an oil painting.
The persistent buzzing in her ear had now become a low murmur pushing her on, urging her forwards. It was as if the ground itself were trying to speak to her.
Stepping onto the lawn everything suddenly changed.
The air filled with the acrid smell of burning. The daylight faded along with the rain; instead the night air was heavy with thick black oily smoke that filled her mouth and throat. The house in front of her burned hotter than any fire she had ever known. The windows melted and dripped down the front of the building like dirty great tears.
Watching helplessly, she saw the roof collapse inwards with a loud splintering, throwing burning dust and ash into the choking air. The wall of heat in front of her was too much. Her skin felt too tight and her eyes stung causing her to take an involuntary step back.
The second her foot hit the sidewalk the flames disappeared and she once again felt the clean fat drops of rain dripping down the neck of her jacket. The daylight returned, hidden beneath the heavy grey skies and once again the little garden smiled at her.
She knelt and pressed her hand into the wet soil, this time she felt rather than witne
ssed the violent echo of fire and flame. She drew in a shaky breath her fingertips clutching involuntarily and digging into the mud.
The garden was an illusion, beneath its pretty mask the stench of blood and ash still lingered. It was as if the ground itself was scarred from that night.
Straightening up and taking another step back her heart began to slow to its usual pace and the whispering in her ears subsided until once again all she could hear was the clatter of rain against the sidewalk.
‘Olivia?’
Her name was a startled whisper upon the wind.
She turned and her penetrating gaze fell upon a small familiar woman about her age. Her vivid blue eyes were wide with shock and the blonde hair that had escaped her hood was plastered wetly to her pale heart shaped face. A face Olivia knew very well.
A small smile curved the corner of Olivia’s mouth.
‘Hello Louisa,’ she murmured.
The breath whooshed out of her as she found herself caught up in a tight hug. Louisa couldn’t have been more than five two but the woman was a lot stronger than she looked.
‘My God, Olivia,’ Louisa breathed, taking a step back. Although she’d released her from the hug she’d grasped Olivia’s hand, almost to reassure herself that she was real and not a ghost. ‘I can’t believe it’s really you.’
‘I’m surprised you recognised me,’ Olivia tilted her head regarding her childhood friend curiously; ‘It’s been twenty years.’
Louisa’s eyes filled unexpectedly with tears.
‘What is it?’ Olivia smiled, ‘do I look that bad?’
‘We thought you were dead,’ she whispered shaking her head. ‘After what happened to your mother and the house burning, no one would tell us what had happened or where you were.’
‘What?’ Her brown eyes folded in confusion,
‘Jake and I kept asking Mom and Dad what had happened to you and we were just told you were gone. They made it sound as if you were in the house so we assumed you died in the fire and no one bothered to correct us. Even the people in town who didn’t stop gossiping for months didn’t seem to know what had happened to you.’
‘That’s weird,’ Olivia chewed her lip thoughtfully.
‘I mourned you,’ her breath caught in her throat, ‘every damn day.’
She could feel the hurt and confusion pouring off her friend in waves and so she did the only thing she could, she wrapped her arms around her awkwardly and hugged her back. It had been a while since she’d allowed herself to be this close to someone and she was a little rusty.
‘Olivia,’ Louisa sighed her name and in that one moment, that one expression, Olivia was transported back to her childhood and the deep loving bond they’d shared. This was why she’d come back, because whether she liked it or not this was the one place that had always been home.
‘Where have you been?’ Louisa pulled back.
‘Everywhere’ she shook her head, ‘nowhere’, and chuckling self-depreciatingly she added ‘and every place in between.’ Then she shrugged ‘it’s complicated.’
‘Why don’t you come in for a coffee?’ Louisa nodded her head towards the cute little two storey house with its cheerful blue doll house shutters, opposite the place where her parent’s house had once been.
‘You’re not still living with your parents?’
‘No,’ Louisa chuckled, ‘I’ve got my own little place in town. My parents are on vacation. I just stop by and check the mail, water the plants that sort of thing.’
‘I can’t,’ Olivia shook her head. ‘It’s getting late and I need to get to the Stick House and sort everything out, I don’t even know if the electric’s still on.’
‘The Stick House?’ Louisa repeated slowly. ‘That’s where you’re staying?’
‘Yeah,’ she nodded, ‘Aunt Evie left it to me in her will.’
‘I heard about Evelyn, I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be, I’m not even sure why she left me the house.’
‘Why wouldn’t she?’ Louisa tilted her head in confusion, ‘she adored you.’
There was nothing she could say to that, even as close as she and Louisa had been when they were children, she couldn’t bring herself to tell her the truth.
Her aunt hadn’t wanted her. After the death of her mother and grandmother and the arrest of her father, the authorities had contacted Evelyn as her only living relative but she had refused to take custody of Olivia.
The hurt had stung hot and bright at the time. She had only been eight years old and in one night she had lost her entire family and had been taken away from the only home she’d ever known. She’d thought her great aunt would come for her but she hadn’t wanted her. She supposed in hindsight she could understand. She had not only represented everything Evelyn had lost in her sister and niece, but also the man who had taken them from her. She was tainted by his blood, the blood of a murderer.
Shaking off her bleak mood she turned back to Louisa.
‘Who planted the garden?’
‘We did,’ Louisa murmured, turning towards the garden in question.
‘My mom cried for days and days after it happened. I would find her standing at the window just staring across the road at the hollowed out remains of your house, surrounded by crime scene tape. The days passed into weeks and months and when we realised no one was going to do anything about the house the whole neighbourhood came together and cleared the site. Then mom and dad planted a remembrance garden.’
‘That was good of them,’ Olivia replied quietly, her eyes lost in thought.
‘Are you sure you won’t come in?’ Louisa asked again. ‘You’re soaked to the skin and there’s so much I want to talk to you about, so much I want to ask you.’
Olivia shook her head.
‘I can’t, I really need to get up to the house.’ She squeezed Louisa’s hand once and stepped back, ‘it was good to see you.’
‘Olivia!’
She stopped and turned back to her friend.
‘Welcome home.’
Something inside her softened at the heartfelt sentiment.
‘Look,’ Olivia offered impulsively, ‘why don’t you give me a couple of days to settle in, then come on up to the house and we’ll talk.’
‘Do you mean it?’
‘Yeah,’ Olivia smiled ruefully, ‘It’s been a while since I’ve had a friend and after a couple of days back in this town, something tells me I’m going to need one.’
‘Give me your phone,’ Louisa held out her hand.
Olivia watched as she took her cell and punched her number into it.
‘There,’ Louisa smiled, ‘call me if you need anything.’
Olivia nodded in acknowledgment before turning and heading back to her car. While they had been talking the rain had let up to a fine mist. The kind where you’re not actually sure it’s raining until you realise you’re wet to the skin. Still it was better than the downpour she driven into town in.
Sliding back into the driver’s seat she blew out a long breath, she’d relaxed in Louisa’s company for the first time in days. Louisa had always had that gift even when they were kids. She seemed to just radiate calm and tranquillity, a trait not shared by her younger brother Jake. He was only eleven months younger than she and Louisa, the three of them had been inseparable. They’d even had their own secret club. It was only now she realised how much she’d missed them.
She started the car and pulled away from the curb and suddenly the hot hard ball of awareness churned once again in her stomach. She was going back to the Stick house; once her most favourite place in the whole world. But after the last twenty years of pain and animosity she had no idea how she was going to feel when she walked through the door.
Part of her still couldn’t quite believe she was back in Mercy; she’d never had any intention of returning. She’d been happy in Providence, well if not happy certainly content.
So what if she’d skipped from
town to town, county to county? From Lawrence to Georgetown, Philadelphia to Boston and New Hampshire to Rhode Island until she’d wound up in Providence, where she’d stayed the longest. A grand total of two years almost a record for her.
It had occurred to her that she could have chosen anywhere. With no ties she could have relocated to the west coast, soaked up the sun, learned to surf. Hell, she could have even jumped on a plane, travelled Europe. No, instead she’d subconsciously hovered around the outskirts of Mercy, never quite making that step to the one place she both loved and hated.
When she got the word her great aunt Evelyn had passed away she had grieved. Despite the bitterness and resentment between them, she’d hurt regardless. Evelyn had been the last one, the last of her family; she really was on her own now.
There wasn’t always such an estrangement between them. When she was a child she remembered Aunt Evie had always been so much fun; she’d loved going to visit her and her grandmother Alice. The sisters had always lived together in the Stick House on the lake. Her mother had taken her to visit every chance she could and they would swim in the lake. Nana Alice would always be baking cookies and Aunt Evie would be the one trekking through the woods with her, looking for herbs and flowers.
When the lawyer had finally tracked her down in Providence and she’d learned she’d inherited the Stick House, she’d opened her mouth to tell him to sell it but that wasn’t what came out. She’d taken the keys, she’d signed the papers and she’d packed up her banged up Camero and headed out. Unable to explain it, even to herself she knew that the time had come. She had to go back home.
The closer she’d got to town the worse the pull had become; even now it throbbed deep in her chest overruling the panic at the thought of being the subject of all the town’s gossip.
They wouldn’t see Olivia West successful historian and author, no; all they would see was the kid of a murderer. That was all anyone saw, it’s why she had bounced from foster family to group home and back again. After all no one wanted to adopt the child of a killer.
It had been twenty years since that night. She didn’t think about it, or rather she didn’t let herself think about it. This was such a bad idea, she should’ve just told the lawyer to sell the house and be done with it. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it. The Stick House had been in her family since it was built in 1895 and before that the original house had been occupied by a West since the town was founded in 1698.
Mercy (The Guardians Series 1) Page 1
