Dying for Mercy with Bonus Material Read Free

government began taxing income. Next came the Roaring Twenties, followed by a decade of economic depression. Residents who had suffered business reversals could no longer afford to live in the park, but it was hard to find buyers for the big houses, even at bargain prices during the Depression and World War II. With workingmen and-women serving in the armed forces and employed in factories, there simply weren’t enough servants for the upkeep and the mansions became uninhabitable. The decline of the park lasted for several decades. Some houses were deserted, some burned to the ground, some barely survived as heirs took to living in just a few rooms while they struggled to live on dwindling trust funds. Finally, at the end of the twentieth century, with a booming economy and stupendous fortunes made in industry and technology, sports and entertainment, the big houses became desirable again.
    Tuxedo Park was still a privileged and protected world where residents didn’t lock their doors or take the keys out of their car ignitions. Guarded by the enclave’s own police department, Tuxedo Park’s children ran free, their parents feeling safe. There were no leash laws for dogs. And, until recently, the houses had no numbers. Residences were referred to by the family’s surname or by the name the house had been given by its original owners.
    Before the first interview Eliza had done with Valentina, she learned that it was here in Tuxedo Park that Valentina Abbate and Innis Wheelock had grown up and gone to school together. It was here that they had married at the Abbates’ Italianate villa perched on the hillside above Tuxedo Lake. It was to here that they had returned after their stints in the governor’s mansion in Albany and the United States ambassador’s residence in Rome.
    In the twilight a deer darted out in front of the car, forcing the driver to slam on the brakes and Eliza to snap out of her reverie. She caught her breath as she watched the big doe leap across the road before disappearing into the woods.
    “Thank God you didn’t hit that beautiful creature, Charlie,” said Eliza. “That would have been such a horrible way to start the night.”

CHAPTER 6

    T he party guests were arriving, and Valentina and Innis Wheelock were gracious and welcoming. So influential and accomplished were they that no one knew it was a sham. They had a secret. An explosive secret.
    Yes, they loved each other; yes, they were devoted to each other. But their marriage was far from perfect. They hid things. They hadn’t been fully honest with the public or with those they purported to care about.
    You had to give credit where credit was due, though. Innis had insisted on that one-on-one conversation in his study, a chance to air any anger and resentment with no one else around to hear. He hadn’t seemed shocked when he heard the feelings that gushed out. It was as if Innis had known exactly what would be said and didn’t care. In fact, Innis had seemed pleased to listen as the ugly explanations for what had been done came spewing forth.
    Innis responded with a diatribe of his own, promises to go public with everything and to ensure that justice would be done in the end.
    And were they even promises—or threats? What did he mean when he said that the world was going to know?
    Upon leaving the office, another potential threat appeared.
    Eunice was standing outside the door. By the expression on her face and her flustered behavior, it was obvious that the maid had been eavesdropping.
    Not that it wasn’t understandable that Eunice would do such a thing. Anytime there was a chance to listen in on someone’s conversation, it was an opportunity not to be wasted.
    Eavesdroppers at Pentimento heard very valuable information.

CHAPTER 7

    T he car inched along the crushed-stone driveway, behind the other vehicles waiting for the chance to drop off their passengers. Spotlights were trained on the big house, illuminating the stucco façade