Mercy by Jodi Picoult Read Free Book Online Page B

suddenly remembered a story about Old MacDonald of Keppoch, who ce nturies ago had punished a woman for stealing gold from his castle. He'd c hained her to the rocks on the islands, so that when the tide came in she drowned. None of the clan had helped her; none had protested their chiefs judgment. After all, the woman who had stolen from the chief had indirectl y stolen from them as well.
    It was premeditated murder; Murder One.
    It was done out of mercy and love.
    He knew the town would take sides on a case like this. He also knew that, like three hundred years ago, whether he chose to let Jamie MacDonald go f ree or whether he recommended life in prison, no one in Wheelock would con tradict his decision.
    But that didn't make it any easier.
    /t was after four-thirty when Allie returned to the flower shop. She pushed past Mia, slipping on cuttings that were strewn across the floor, and locked herself in the bathroom in the back. She vomited until there was nothing le ft in her stomach.
    When she stepped out of the bathroom, Mia was standing nearby with a bowl of water and a Handi-Wipe. "You should sit down," she said. "The smell of all those roses is going to make it worse."
    "It's a little overwhelming," Allie agreed. She sank into her desk chair and leaned her head back, letting Mia's cool hands position the towelette acros s her brow. "Oh, God," she sighed.
    When Allie closed her eyes, Mia started for the door. She paused with her ha nd on the frame. "Is it true? Did he kill her because she was dying?" Allie's head snapped up. "Where did you hear that?"
    "A woman named Hannah called. I told her you weren't here." Mia paused. " I made the cemetery baskets and the wreaths," she said. "You can take a l ook."
    37
    With her head throbbing, Allie pulled herself to her feet. She'd glance over Mia's work, although she was sure they were fine, put them into the cooler, a nd close up a half hour early.
    Mia's arrangements were lined up at the bottom of the cooler, three simple c onical shapes that did not look much like cemetery baskets at all. They were very traditional arrangements of carnations, fennel, barberry, larkspur, ye llow roses, and Michaelmas daisies, colorful but standard. Allie's eyes swep t their lines, a little disappointed. After what she had seen of Mia's green
    , grassy setting this morning, she had hoped for something original.
    "Oh," Mia said, wiping her hands on an apron Allie had forgotten she owned.
    "Those aren't for the funeral. I saw the purchase order for that MacBean w oman, and I didn't know whether you'd be back in time to fill it for tomorr ow's luncheon." She lifted a thin shoulder. "I figured a library wouldn't w ant something that goes against the grain, so I tried to remember what the centerpieces looked like at my cousin Louise's wedding." Allie lifted her e yebrows, and Mia blushed, filling in her nervousness by tumbling her words one after another. "You know, the kind that's done at a VFW hall, with some tacky band in blue tuxedos that sings 'Daddy's Little Girl.' " Allie laughed. "Let me guess. The flower girl carried a little ball made of mi niature pink carnations."
    Mia smirked. "You were invited?" She helped Allie lift the centerpieces into the cooler, and then gestured to the far corner of the store where a string of cemetery baskets and wreaths were taking shape beneath the dried flower rings Allie hung on the walls for browsing customers.
    Allie sucked in her breath. Mia had found the rue, all right, but had steered clear of the bluebells and the other suggestions Allie had offered. And she had been absolutely correct to do so. Instead of the traditionally shaped bas kets, she had placed side by side six trailing bouquets more fashioned to a w edding than a funeral. Snowy lilies of the valley, orchids, and stephanotis n estled between heather sprigs, rue, rosemary, ivy, and ferns. And at the hear t of each pale, creamy arrangement was one spiraled rose as red as blood.
    "Oh, Mia,'