Cry Mercy

by Mariah Stewart

  ���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.���

  FOURTEEN

  So now we’re on to Henry and Lori, right?��� Nick put his
notes aside once they’d hung up with Ali. ���I see they have separate numbers. Which one do you want to call first?���

  ���Let’s start with Henry.��� Emme dialed the number, then handed Nick the phone. ���He might respond better to you, being a guy.���

  When no one answered, he left a message that he thought was vague enough to spark some interest, but not so specific as to scare Henry away. The call to Lori resulted in Emme leaving a message as well.

  ���I hope they call back,��� she said as she hung up.

  ���You think there’s a chance they won’t? They were with Belinda that last day. I’d think they’d be interested.���

  ���You never know with kids.��� Emme added, ���Especially this group. I think they’re a bit more suspicious than others might be because of their situation. Like Ali said, some of the families aren’t happy about the kids connecting, so maybe it’s tough to know who to trust when you don’t know who you’re dealing with.���

  ���Ali was okay with you.���

  ���I guess I hit the right note with her. You never know how it’s going to go when you interview witnesses.��� She thought for a moment. ���Maybe we should do another email to the group. And I’m thinking that this time, the email should be from me, since I am an investigator-so the others understand that Belle really is missing.���

  ���Good idea.���

  Emme pulled up the website and located the Donor 1735 message board.

  ���What are you going to say?��� Nick asked.

  ���I think I’m just going to shoot from the hip. Lay it all out there.���

  Deep in thought, she began to type. A few minutes later, she turned to Nick and said, ���How does this sound?��� and began to read:

  My name is Emme Caldwell. I’m a private investigator with the Mercy Street Foundation, which is an organization that specializes in finding missing persons. Our services were requested by Nick Perone, the uncle of your donor sibling, Belinda Hudson-you know her as Belle-who was last seen on January twenty-fourth, 2009. It’s been determined that she spent most of that day with several members of this board. Over the next several days, I will be contacting each of you to talk about Belle. I hope I can count on all of you for total cooperation and honesty. If you’d like to contact me, please call me at the number below. If you’d prefer to contact Belle’s uncle directly, you can reach him at������

  She finished and looked up at Nick. ���Does that sound okay?���

  ���It sounds great. Thanks for including me. At least now they’ll know my earlier attempts to contact them wasn’t a joke. Or the attempt of some perverted guy trying to-���

  ���Stop it. I realize that upset you-justifiably so-but I think we need to just chalk that up to some wiseass kid being, well, being a wiseass.���

  ���Agreed.���

  Emme hit post and leaned back.

  ���I guess that will take a while to generate any activity. Let’s move on to the next item on the agenda.��� She picked up her list. ���Aaron. First thing this morning, I reread the article about him in a magazine. I printed it out-it’s here somewhere������ She thumbed through a folder that had been sitting to her left. ���Here it is. Take a look at this. The kid’s a genius. How he figured this out step-by-step and made it all work out is just beyond me.���

  Nick took the file and began to read to himself.

  ���I’m running downstairs for coffee.��� Emme stood and stretched. ���Can I bring you a refill?���

  ���That would be great, thanks.��� Engrossed in his reading, Nick handed her his mug without looking up. ���You’re right, this kid is really sharp.���

  She returned some minutes later, a mug in each hand.

  ���Trula is feeling philosophical today,��� she said as she placed both mugs on the table.

  ���What do you mean?��� Nick asked.

  Emme pointed to his mug. ������Define the moment or the moment will define you,������ she read. ���Walt Whitman.���

  She turned hers around. ������Reality leaves a lot to the imagination.��� John Lennon. Trula has a penchant for coffee mugs that have messages printed on them. She has dozens of them.���

  ���They all have famous quotes on them?���

  ���Some do. Those run from Nietzsche to quotes like,���Talk is cheap because the supply exceeds the demand.��� Others are just plain silly. Like, ���I see dumb people.��� Or, ���You say bitch like it’s a bad thing.��� That sort of thing.��� Emme smiled. ���You just never know what you’re going to get.���

  He took a sip and sighed. ���Who cares what the coffee’s in when it’s this good?���

  ���That’s pretty much my feeling, too.��� She sat down. ���Did you finish the article?���

  ���I did. You’re right. This kid is beyond clever. Swabs his own DNA, sends it off to have it tested at one of those online genealogy DNA-testing services, has it matched up to anyone in the same paternal line whose DNA is on file. Apparently, there are a hell of a lot of people who have supplied their DNA to these genealogy websites. There’s a place called ShakeYour-FamilyTree.com that has been running a project to collect DNA samples for the past three years, and now has a huge database available, and they’re not the only place on the Internet you can go to find DNA registries. For less than three hundred dollars, you can find out if anyone matching your DNA is on record there. Anyway, this kid gets a couple of names back-their Y chromosomes were close enough to suggest they had the same very close male relative.���

  ���Well, father, grandfather, great-grandfather. A brother or a cousin wouldn’t have done it.���

  ���Right. So he gets four names back, all with the same last name. So he takes that name, and the information his mother got from the clinic where she purchased the sperm, and he puts two and two and two together and gets his donor.���

  ���Just by knowing his donor’s place and date of birth and what degree he earned in college, he found the guy. Talk about looking for a needle in a haystack. He goes to one of those online search sites, buys the names of every man who was born on that day in that place, and bingo-there’s one with the name he’s looking for.���

  ���It sounds as if his donor wasn’t too upset about being found. More like he was as impressed as we are by this kid’s smarts. Enough that he and Aaron have actually been able to develop a real relationship.��� Nick handed the article back to Emme. ���Nice to see there was a happy ending there.���

  ���It makes me wonder how far Belle really got with this. I’d love to know if she was successful in getting a name,��� Emme said. ���And if she did, did she tell any of the other kids?���

  ���You think they’d admit it to you, if she did?���

  ���I like to think someone would.���

  ���Maybe they’re afraid you’ll hassle the guy if you know who he is. Or maybe they want to contact this guy themselves and are afraid you’ll scare him off. Or there could be reasons only a kid would think up.���

  ���So if no one admits to knowing, it could be that she didn’t tell anyone. Or it could be that she didn’t find him.��� Emme took another sip of coffee, and found it had cooled. She drank it absently. ���Supposing she did find him, but he was one of the donors who really didn’t want to be found.���

  ���I’ve thought about that.��� Nick leaned an elbow on the table and rubbed his chin. ���Of course, that would mean that this kid at the museum was just a coincidence, right? Just some kid who thought she was cute and wanted to get a little closer. That sort of thing happens all the time.���
��

  ���I don’t know how he fits in,��� she admitted, ���or, as you suggest, if he fits in to the rest of this at all. Generally speaking, I don’t like coincidences-most cops don’t-but that doesn’t mean they don’t occur.���

  They heard a clicking sound coming from her computer.

  She turned the screen slightly to eliminate the glare. ���A message from Will and Wayne.���

  She read it aloud.

  ���Belle is really missing? Are you sure? This isn’t a joke?���

  Her fingers flew across the keyboard.

  No joke, guys. She’s really missing. When did you last hear from her?

  A minute later, the reply.

  We think probably around Christmas?

  We never got to go to the get-togethers because they were too far away. We only met her one time, she came to see us last fall. She’s really pretty. All our sisters are pretty-Ali sent us some pictures from a get-together they had. We wish we had something to tell you but we don’t.

  Emme turned to Nick. ���That’s pretty much what I expected from those two. Ali said they weren’t real active on the message board and they didn’t even have cell phones.���

  Another click. Another message, this one a private email.

  Miss Caldwell-Lori and I are shocked to learn that Belle has been missing all this time! We have both been away at school and haven’t been on the board too much recently because of exams. We both are willing to meet with you whenever, wherever you want. Are you near CT? If you’re close by, maybe we can meet partway? Henry Carroll-Wilson

  ���His name is Henry Carroll-Wilson?��� Nick frowned. ���For real? Wasn’t Henry Wilson the name of Dennis the Menace’s cranky old neighbor?���

  Emme laughed. ���Could be.���

  She typed a reply email and hit send. ���Just to let him know where we are and that we can meet him halfway or drive up there, whatever it takes. Every one of these kids we talk to could conceivably bring us one step closer to finding out what happened that day.���

  Henry’s reply was immediate.