The quality of mercy is not strain'd, It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest: It blesseth him that gives and him that takes. 'T is mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes The throned monarch better than his crown; His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, The attribute to awe and majesty, Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings; But mercy is above this sceptred sway, It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, It is an attribute to God himself; And earthly power doth then show likest God's, When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew, Though justice be thy plea, consider this, That in the course of justice none of us Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy; And that same prayer doth teach us all to render The deeds of mercy.
William Shakespeare, The Merchant of Venice
Spencer splashed his face with water. His nightmares had changed from bodies he had seen to Merci's. Her abdominal skin was stretched and cut open. He could hear a baby crying, but no matter how hard he looked, he could not find the child. It reminded him of Riley Jenkins. If there had been a washing machine in his nightmare, he was sure the baby would have been behind it.
It was late but someone knocked on the door. He carefully looked around the door. "Hello?"
Petria Alberti stood on the other side. "I know I should have called, but I needed to know if there was any news that hasn't been on the news."
Spencer shook his head, letting the woman in. "We think we know who did it, but we can't spend all this time on one case. I've been staying in the office so I'll be the first to know if there's a decent clue."
"Is there hope?" the guidance counselor ventured softly.
"We think we know the motive, but if Merci miscarries…"
"M.J. was kidnapped because she was pregnant?" Pete replied, putting her hand over her mouth.
Spencer nodded, fighting tears. "It's the same woman who asked her husband to rape Merci in Las Vegas. If Desmond Chester hadn't lied about that clinic, she'd still be here."
"Why would Dez Chester do this to a little girl?" Pete sat on the sofa. "He seemed sweet."
"The kidnapper is his sister. I wish I knew more than that, but he has a lawyer."
---
He had fallen asleep holding Merci. Merci suppressed a disgusted shiver. Unlike Blake, this man smelled of alcohol and marijuana. Elena smelled like this when she came home from work sometimes but it was never this extreme. Merci's eyes focused on a half-empty bottle of Scotch and she wondered if she'd feel comfortable if she had just a sip. She's take a hangover, dead brain cells, and a slow mind over this fear any day.
Then she shook her head, trying to remove the thought. Spencer had warned her that people who drank alcohol under the age of fifteen were five times as likely to become addicted later in life. She didn't realize 'later in life' meant before she even turned fifteen. Or maybe she was already fifteen. There was no way to tell if Halloween had passed.
Not to mention that drinking would hurt the baby and Vanessa wouldn't like that at all. She needed to stay healthy, if not for her case, for the baby. She wasn't going to keep it, but it was a life. It was half her. It didn't matter that the other half was monster. Nurture was just as important as nature.
The man exhaled heavily, drenching Merci's senses with the stench of decay. This man was no Blake. He was dirty and pungent. Merci gagged and suddenly gained enough strength to throw his arm of her and ran to the hotel bathroom.
The bathroom floor was cold on every inch of Merci's bare skin, but all she could focus on was vomiting. Once her stomach was empty, she had a brilliant idea. She quickly prayed for forgiveness as she ripped a map page out of the Gideon bible. She looked around for a pen and found one. It was dry, but even the tip could write a message. She poked thumb with her ear ring, just hoping someone would be able run a crayon over the message.