Cry Mercy

THIRTEEN

It took a great deal of patience to sit through the dinner Trula had kept warm. As thoughtful and as much appreciated as that dinner was, and as congenial as the company may have been, Emme was eager to get back to the hotel, settle Chloe for bed, and get to work on her laptop.

Settling Chloe wasn't easy even after they'd returned to their room. She was wound up from her afternoon with Trula and overtired after having been out a little later than she should have been. It was almost nine before the bedtime storybook had been selected and the story read a sufficient number of times. Finally, Emme tucked Chloe in and turned off the light next to the bed. She retreated quietly to their tiny sitting room and set up her laptop on the desk. Moments later she was skimming her mail.

There, as promised, was the email from Hayley.

Emme opened it and quickly read its contents, pleased to see email addresses for all other eight members of the Donor 1735 message board. Several, however, had no phone listings. She dashed off a reply to Hayley, thanking her for the information and asking about the missing phone numbers. She busied herself on the website of the Philadelphia Museum of Art and awaited a reply. It was forthcoming in minutes.

Will and Wayne don't have cell phones, their mom doesn't like them. Go figure. I never had a number for Justin, just email, but I wouldn't have called him anyway. Jessie must have gotten a new phone when she moved to France ′cause the old number doesn't work anymore and no one has a new one for her. No one's heard from her since she moved.

Emme studied the list, then forwarded the email to her work computer so she could print it out in the morning before Nick showed up. She'd called the house and tried to gauge Robert's feelings on having Nick come to the house to work with her, but he seemed ambivalent. Finally he said, “Oh, for heaven's sake, this is not Fort Knox. If you need to work here, there's a conference room on the second floor. Someone should use it once in a while.”

Having that settled, Emme shot off an email to Nick, giving him directions to the Magellan estate. Five minutes later, the cell phone Mallory had given her on the first day began to ring.

“What time tomorrow?” Nick asked.

“I'm usually there by eight, but you don't have to be that early,” she whispered.

“I want to get an early start.” She noticed he'd lowered his voice.

“I don't know how early we want to start making phone calls.”

“If kids are still in school, they're probably up, right? Unless they had a late night of partying the night before. Is Thursday night a big party night?”

“I don't know. Listen-”

“Why are we whispering?”

“My daughter is sleeping about fifteen feet away and I don't want to wake her. She had a big day at preschool.”

“What do kids learn in preschool these days?”

“Letters. Numbers. Colors.” Emme thought back to her earlier conversation with Chloe. “And apparently foreign languages. Chloe hit me with a little Español this afternoon.”

“Good for her. It's a very useful language to know.”

“Agreed. Listen, while I'm thinking of it, what kind of car did Belinda drive? And where is it now?”

“She had a white BMW sedan, the smallest model. And as for its whereabouts, I have no idea what happened to it. All I know for certain is that the Philadelphia police did not have it in their impound lot, and it hadn't been towed from where she parked it.”

“Which means it was driven from where she'd parked it.”

“It was reported missing but it's never been recovered-as far as I know, anyway.”

“Not to cut you short, but-”

“But you're going to cut me short.”

“I don't want to wake Chloe.”

“And just when I was getting used to whispering. It makes for a kind of intimate conversation, don't you think? Anyone ever tell you that you have a very sexy voice?”

She laughed softly.

“I'll see you in the morning, Nick.”

She was still smiling when she slid her phone back into her bag, turned off the laptop and the light, and made her way into the bedroom for the night.

Emme had just finished printing out two copies of the phone and email list the next morning when she heard Trula in the hall.

“This is Emme's office,” Emme heard her say. “Right on through the door here. Come for a coffee refill anytime.”

“Thanks, Trula.” Nick was smiling pleasantly as he strolled into the office. To Emme he said, “You didn't tell me your job came complete with a fairy godmother.”

Emme laughed. “That's as good a description of Trula as I've heard since I got here.” She pointed to the chair that stood next to her desk. “Make yourself comfortable for a moment while I finish this.”

“Seriously, that woman is something else. If she was thirty years younger, I'd ask her to marry me.” He moved a pad of paper closer to the edge of her desk and set his coffee cup on it. “I'd beg her to marry me.”

“You must have gotten a whiff of those muffins she bakes every morning.”

“I got more than a whiff,” he smiled.

“She gave you a muffin?”

“Where do you think I've been since eight fifteen?”

“She must think you're here for a job interview.”

“Nope. She knows why I'm here. She just couldn't resist the old Perone charm.”

Emme coughed into her hand.

“Think you can drag that charm up to the conference room so we can get started?”

“Sure. Lead the way.”

Emme gathered up her files. When she struggled to pick up her laptop, Nick grabbed it for her. Halfway up the stairs they met Robert, who was on his way down. Emme made the introductions.

“I'm really glad to meet you,” Nick told him. “I think what you're doing here is amazing. If I'm lucky enough to see my niece again, I'll have you to thank.”

“You'll have Emme to thank,” Robert corrected him. “She's doing the work.”

Robert went down two more steps, then stopped and turned around. Looking up, he said, “Do I know you from somewhere?”

Nick shrugged. “I don't think so.”

“You look familiar.” He continued down a few more steps. “Nick Perone. Even your name is familiar.”

“Your name is familiar to me, too,” Nick said, “but you're Robert Magellan. Everyone knows who you are.”

Robert was at the bottom step, looking over his shoulder. “If we've met before, it'll come to me. I never forget a face.”

“Could you have met him somewhere?” Emme opened the door to the conference room and turned on the light.

“I think I'd remember if I had. I doubt we travel in the same circles.” Nick followed her into the room. “Wow. Looks like an old-fashioned library.”

“The library is downstairs. And that's pretty much off-limits to the rest of us, one of the few places in the house off-limits to us. That's Robert's private domain. Invitation only.” She placed her files on the table and looked around for a coaster for Nick's coffee. Not finding one, she handed him a file. “You'll have to use this.”

“Have you ever been invited?” he asked, and when she looked blank, he added to clarify, “To the private library.”

“Are you kidding? That's family only. Robert. Kevin-his cousin, Father Kevin Burch, but no one around here seems to remember he's clergy half the time. And of course, Trula.”

She glanced around for the phones, and found them at the far end of the table.

“Let's move down to that end,” she told Nick. “It's easier than moving the phones.”

They repositioned themselves, the laptop between them flanked by a phone on each side.

“I spoke with the Eastwind police this morning. The chief is going to start working on those surveillance tapes. I think he was happy to be kept in the loop. Oh, and here”-she handed him a piece of paper-“I printed out Hayley's email so we'd have clean copies to work from. I also printed out what I think the order of things should be.”

Nick glanced over the list.

“You want to start with Ali, then move on to Henry, then Lori,” he read.

“I'm thinking Ali might be home. She's a high school senior so she's probably finished with her exams. Depending on the school system she's in, she might have already graduated. Hayley said that Henry just graduated from college, but that he wasn't living at home right now. Lori's still in college but she has an apartment with a few other girls and she's staying in New Haven for the summer.”

“You know what you're going to say?”

“I can do this in my sleep. Seven years on the police force, remember.”

Nick pointed to the phone. “Dial away.”

While she dialed, he asked, “Did you like it?”

“Did I like what?”

“Being a cop.”

“Loved it.”

“Why'd you leave?”

“I love my daughter more.” She flushed pink and mentally kicked herself. She was grateful that the call was answered on the third ring, saving her from an explanation she didn't want to give.

“Hello, is this Ali?” she asked.

“Yes. Who's this?” The young girl yawned blatantly.

“My name is Emme Caldwell.” She hit the speaker button but kept the volume low. “I'm an investigator with the Mercy Street Foundation. I'm calling about Belle Hudson.”

“Belle?” She yawned again. “I haven't heard from her in a couple of months.”

“She's been missing for a couple of months, Ali. We're trying to find her.”

“Belle's really missing? She's not just AWOL from the board?”

“I'm afraid so.”

The yawning stopped and Ali was suddenly fully awake.

“Are you sure about this? Who'd you say you were again?”

Emme reintroduced herself. “And yes, we're positive she's missing. Actually, no one's seen or heard from her since January.” Emme paused for effect. “January twenty-fourth, to be precise. The day you spent in Philadelphia at the art museum with several of your donor siblings.”

“Oh my God.” Ali's voice cracked. “She's really been gone all this time?”

“I'm afraid so. Weren't you contacted by the police a few months ago about this?”

“Someone called and asked if I knew her-months ago, this was-but I didn't really understand what the call was about, so I hung up,” she said sheepishly. “When they called back, they said they were checking numbers on a cell phone, so I said I didn't know her. They didn't tell me she was missing.”

“Why would you have said that, Ali?”

“Look, some of the kids' parents are real nervous about us getting together. You have to understand the whole donor-sibling thing, what it means to some kids to find out they have brothers and sisters, that they're not alone.”

“I think I have a pretty good idea what that might mean, Ali.” Emme, who'd been alone all her life-until Chloe-had a damned good idea of what it might feel like to discover a connection. Any connection.

“Some of the parents don't. They feel threatened by it, like they think because their kid finds some family somewhere outside of them, that it means they don't love their own family or their mom, or their dad, if they have one.” She sighed. “Some of us only have a mom. Or in Henry and Lori's case, two moms. They don't really understand why we'd want to know who fathered us or what that side of our gene pool might be like or why we'd want to have contact with them, why it matters whether or not we connect with these other kids who-as far as the parents are concerned-are only connected to us by a biological event. Because to some moms-that would be moms like mine-the only side of the family that's supposed to count is hers.”

The words all came out in a rush, and Emme sat quietly, listening.

“So when a stranger calls and says, I'm calling numbers on a cell phone, do you know-fill in the blank, any one of my donor sibs would do-the answer is going to be no. Even if they said they were the police, how would I know if they were lying or not?”

“But didn't you think it odd that you didn't hear from her after the trip to Philadelphia?”

“I did hear from her.”

“You did?” Emme almost lifted off her chair in surprise. Nick opened his mouth but Emme clamped a hand over it and shook her head. “When?”

“I got an email from her a day or so later.”

“What did she say? Did she say where she was?”

“No. All she said was that it was fun to get together with everyone on Saturday, and that she was really busy with school and was taking a break.”

“That's all she said?”

“In the email, yes, I think so. Which didn't surprise me, since on Saturday, she'd been talking about how she was going to be really busy with rush at her sorority once the new semester started. Besides, she was trying to find-” Ali stopped in what seemed to be midsentence.

“Trying to find out who Donor 1735 was,” Emme finished the sentence for her. “I know.”

There was silence on the other end of the line, and for a minute, Emme was afraid the girl had hung up.

“Ali?” she asked.

“I'm here.”

“I know that she thought she was close to finding him. Did she tell you how close?”

“No. She just sort of hinted.” Ali started to cry. “All I know for certain is that Aaron, this kid who found his donor mostly through the Internet, was helping her.”

“Do you know how to get in touch with Aaron?”

“I have his email address somewhere.”

“Would you mind looking for it? I'd like to contact him.”

“Why?”

“I'm calling anyone who Belle had been in touch with. We're trying to figure out where and when she was last heard from.”

“Like I said, the day in Philly was the last I saw her.”

“At the art museum,” Emme said, just to be sure.

“Right.”

“I understand there was a young man in the museum restaurant who was paying a lot of attention to Belle that day.”

“Yeah. The jerk.”

“He was a jerk?”

“He looked like a jerk. Acted like a jerk. I mean, he was totally cute, don't get me wrong, but there was something about him that was just… not cool.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Okay, this guy was just totally focused on Belle. And like, because he was so hot, and knew he was hot, he took it for granted that she was focused on him, too. Not cool.”

“What did Belle think of him?”

“Same. Totally not cool. She turned her back on him at lunch and acted like he wasn't there.”

“Was that the end of it?”

“Are you kidding? I wish. He followed us into the photography exhibit. Which was the main thing I was interested in seeing that day.”

“Do you know if he spoke to her?”

“He tried to, but she just ignored him. Belle is totally cool. Way too cool for a guy like that.”

“Did she say anything at all about him?”

“At first she thought she might know him, but then realized she didn't.”

“He looked familiar to her?”

“I guess sort of, but then she said no, he wasn't and we just finished looking at the photographs.”

“Did you notice if he followed her outside?”

“No, I didn't. We all met up out on the steps so I could take a picture and I really wasn't paying attention.”

“You have a picture from that day?”

“I have a couple of them, yeah.”

“Can you scan them and send them to me?”

“Why?” Ali seemed wary at the request.

“For one thing, so I can see what Belle was wearing that day. Can you do that now, while we're on the phone, so you can identify everyone in the picture for me?”

“Tell me again why you're looking for Belle?” “Her uncle, Nick Perone, with whom she lived, is her only relative.” Emme paused, then hastened to add, “On her mother's side. He's been looking for her since January, Ali. He's asked us to help find her, because the police have pretty much given up.” “Belle told me all about her uncle Nick.” “What did she say?” Emme and Nick were both all ears. Nick whispered, “If she calls me a pervert-” “She said he was her mom's younger brother and he was a really good guy. That he took her in after her mother died and that she went through this stage where she did everything she could to make him angry and make him not like her, but he kept her anyway. She said she didn't know what made her do the things she did and she was sorry, and that after a while she just cut it out and they got to be good friends. She said she cared a lot about him, that he was, like, her best bud. Oh, and she said he was really into cars and had the coolest Vette on the planet.”

Emme glanced over at Nick. He made no attempt to hide that his eyes brimmed with tears. She reached over and gave his hand a squeeze, telling herself that years of comforting victims had made such gestures come naturally. He held on to her, and she let him. “So you wouldn't think she'd run away?” “Belle? Uh-uh. She was a really happy, sweet, fun girl. Probably my favorite out of all the sibs, but don't tell the rest of them that.” “Your secret is safe with me.”

“What do you think happened to her?” Ali's voice dropped.

“We don't know. We're trying to track her movements after she left the museum that day. We'll be speaking with all the kids, by the way, to see if anyone's heard from her.”

“Some of them might not talk to you.”

“I guess they'll just have to tell me that themselves. I'm going to try anyway.”

“Give me your email address,” Ali said, “and I'll scan these photos in.”

Emme did as she'd been requested.

“You have the photos handy?”

“They're right here on my desk. Hold on… this will just take a couple of minutes. Don't go away.”

“I'll be here,” Emme assured her. “Good of her to do this,” Emme said, putting her hand over the speaker.

Nick nodded. Clearly, he was still slightly shaken after having heard how much Belle thought of him. Had she never told him? Emme wondered. Probably not. Kids sometimes don't think to tell the adults in their lives how they feel about them.

Chloe, on the other hand, at four, never hesitated to speak her mind about who she loved and how much. Just last evening, after Emme had finished the meal Trula had saved for her and they were leaving for the hotel for the night, Chloe had thrown her arms around Trula's neck, hugged her, and declared, “I love you, Trula. I wish you were my grandma.” Trula had been this close to puddling up-there'd been no mistaking that look.

Would the day come when Chloe's heart would no longer be as open? Emme hoped not…

“Okay, the pictures should be there any minute now.” Ali was back on the line.

“Hold on, let me check.” Emme turned the laptop in her direction and hit a few keys to access her mail. “Yes, they're here.”

She opened the email.

“Tell me who's who,” she said.

Nick pushed back his chair and stood behind Emme's, leaning over her shoulder to get a closer look at the photos.

“On the top one, from left to right, there's Hayley, me, Lori, Henry, and Belle.”

Hayley, clearly the youngest, wore an orange stadium coat with fur around the hood. Ali was tall and had very short blond hair and looked nothing like any of the other kids in the photo. Lori and Henry favored Hayley slightly, and bore a strong resemblance to each other. Belle wore a red peacoat over jeans and had a paper bag tucked under one arm. All five faced the camera with happy-go-lucky smiles.

Emme twisted in her seat to look up at Nick. He touched the back of her neck ever so slightly, the gesture catching her off guard. She looked back at the screen and kept her attention focused there. Or tried to.

“Who took the pictures?”

“A really nice lady who was taking some pictures out front offered to take them for me.”

“It looks like Belle has a bag under one arm,” Emme observed.

“Yeah, she bought some stuff in the museum store,” Ali told her. “Some postcards and a scarf. It had, like, some Renoir painting on it. Flowers.”

“What time was that, do you remember?”

“Ummm… maybe around two?”

Emme studied the photos for a long moment, then reached over and enlarged the image to fill the screen.

“Ali, who's that in the background on that last photo?”

“I don't know, just someone who was in front of the building when we were, I guess. I hadn't noticed.”

“Looks like the same person is here, in this one,” Nick said. He leaned closer and touched the screen. “Here, near the door.”

“Who's there?” Ali asked suspiciously.

“Ali, I'm sorry. Belle's uncle Nick is here with me. I apologize for not mentioning it.”

“It's okay, Ms. Caldwell.” To Emme's surprise, Ali didn't sound the least bit annoyed. “Hi, Belle's uncle Nick. I've heard a lot about you. Nice things. Or maybe you heard.”

“I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I'd be lying if I said I'm sorry I overhead you, Ali. Thanks so much for what you said about Belinda… Belle. I appreciate it.”

“No big.”

Emme assumed she meant no big deal, but knew it would be too uncool to ask.

“You were saying something about the door.” Emme got closer to the screen. “This person here? Is that a male or a female?”

“I can't tell.” Nick said. “I can't really see the face or the clothes that well. It's just sort of a form there, maybe a reflection off the glass. Could even be someone on the other side, maybe.”

“I can't tell either,” Ali said, reminding them she was still on the line.

“Ali, this uncool guy who was hanging around you and Belle-” Nick began, but Ali cut him off.

“Belle,” she corrected him. “He was hanging around Belle.”

“Do you remember what he looked like?”

“Kinda tall, blond hair. Buff. Like I said, really cute.”

“What was he wearing?” Emme asked.

“He had on a dark green sweater and jeans. And a brown suede jacket. I remember that, because it was really good suede. The real expensive kind.”

“How could you tell just by looking at it?” Nick asked.

“He was carrying it over his arm and it brushed against me when Belle and I were leaving the photography exhibit. He got way too close but his jacket was the bomb.”

“Sounds like a bold little bugger,” Nick said.

“Way bold,” Ali agreed.

“Did he get close again?” Emme asked.

“No. We left after that and went outside.”

“Hayley said she and Henry and Lori shared a cab back to the train station but that you and Belle had both driven that day. So were you still with Belle after the others left?”

“Uh-huh. There's some limited parking behind the building and I was lucky enough to get a spot there when I arrived that morning. Belle was late and had to park on another street. I offered to drive her, but she said since it was the first somewhat warm day of the winter, she wanted to walk.”

“Where did you part company?”

“Out front.”

“Did you happen to see which way she went when she left you?”

“She went straight down the steps. You know, where they did the Rocky thing? There's that big oval drive out in front of the building so I figured she was parked down there someplace.”

“She didn't say how far she had to go to get her car?”

“I don't remember if she did.”

“Ali, do you still have the email you got from Belle after the museum trip?”

“I'm sure I deleted it. I'm sorry.”

“One more thing,” Nick said. “Did you see Mr. Uncool again that day?”

“No. I guess he just gave up.” Ali paused, then added, “You don't think he followed her or something creepy like that, do you? Because if something happened to her because I let her walk to her car alone, and he followed her and-”

“Whoa, Ali, back up. First of all, you didn't let her walk to her car. That was her idea. She's a big girl. And regardless of what happened to her and where, it wasn't your fault, so please don't even start down that path. The only person responsible for what happened to Belle, is the person who actually did… whatever might have been done.”

When it seemed Ali had been too quiet for too long, Emme said, “Ali?”

“You're right. It's just that…”

“I know. It's always easy to second guess yourself, but in this case, I don't think anything you could have done would have made any difference.”

“Why not?”

“If someone-this guy or someone else-was determined to get to Belle, he'd have found a way.”

“But why would someone be after Belle?” Ali began to cry.

Emme sighed. “That's what we're trying to figure out.”