Cry Mercy (17 page)

“Maybe Belle never showed any interest in her father while your sister was still alive. Maybe losing her mother when she did made her curious about her other parent. Once she realized she had all these half-siblings, her curiosity might have been fueled by theirs.” Emme had to stretch to keep up with Nick's long stride. “Did she ever say anything at all to you about her father, or wanting to know more about him?”

“Never.” He shook his head. “Belinda never gave any hint that she knew how she was conceived or that she'd found she had half-siblings. I've been looking back over conversations we've had these past few years, thinking maybe she'd tossed out a sign or two and I just missed it. But I can't recall that she'd even hinted at any of this.”

“I wonder how long she knew, how old she was when Wendy told her.”

“I have no idea. I'm still trying to figure out why Wendy never mentioned it to me. She never mentioned wanting to be a single mother. I had no idea why she made that decision, or when.” He appeared thoughtful. “Or why Belinda never said anything. Wendy I can maybe understand. She was so much older than I was, maybe she thought I was too young to have that conversation with. But Belinda … well, I guess I thought we were closer than that.”

“Maybe she assumed you knew and that you didn't want to discuss it. Maybe she thought her mother had told you and that you'd disapproved.”

“Maybe.”

“I wonder how far Belinda got in her search for her donor.”

“I was wondering that myself.” They reached the corner of Witherspoon Street and turned right.

“Suppose, just suppose, Belle had been able to figure out who Donor 1735 was. Suppose she even tried to contact him. How happy would this guy be to hear from a kid he didn't know existed, who maybe wants to call him Daddy? Oh, and to find out he had ten other kids who want to call him Daddy, too.” Emme dug in her pocket for her car keys.

“Probably not so much. There might be some guys who'd take it in stride but they'd be in the minority.” He thought for a moment. “Yeah, mostly I don't think these guys would be too happy. They were promised anonymity; they don't expect that to ever be violated.”

“And let's face it, this would be a huge invasion of their privacy.”

“Do you think that would stop a bunch of kids from trying?”

“No. Nick, if Belle had gotten that close to finding him, would she have told the others?”

“I don't know. Belinda—I have a hard time calling her Belle. It's tough to keep a name straight like that when you've always known someone by another name.”

Tell me about it
.

They arrived at her car, and she unlocked both doors with the remote. She started the engine and pulled away from the curb, her mind racing.

“Okay, how about this?” Emme was thinking aloud, playing with different scenarios. “Suppose she had figured it out. Would she have contacted the guy her research led her to and asked him if he'd been a donor,
before
she told the others she'd found him?”

“You mean, instead of telling them first?” Nick thought it over. “Yeah, I could see her doing that. Rather than get everyone tuned up that she'd found him, she might go that one extra step and make sure.”

“Are you sure there were no notes about this in any of those boxes you went through?”

“No, I'm not sure. I didn't really know what I was looking for. Maybe you should take a look.”

“I'm going to do that.” She drove thoughtfully for a few minutes, watching for the signs for I-95. “Damn, I wish we had her computer. You know it was all in there.”

“You're probably right.”

“No
probably
. You heard Hayley. This kid, Aaron, found his donor by using the Internet. If Belinda had
contacted him, and followed his lead, she'd have done the same.”

“I wish we knew for sure what happened to her laptop.”

“I think we do know what happened. I think whoever is responsible for her disappearance has it.”

Emme signaled to turn onto the interstate and noted that rush hour traffic was in full swing.

“So where do we go from here?” Nick asked.

“We contact each one of the kids on that board, and we ask them to talk to us. I want to get a feel for the rest of the kids involved in this, get a better idea of how they all felt about Belle, how they felt about searching for their donor. Some of them might not have been as cozy with the idea as Hayley thinks they were.”

“Why wouldn't they be?”

“Some of these kids were born to single mothers, some to lesbian couples, some to married couples. In cases involving the latter, there may be a bit of touchiness on the part of the dads, if their infertility was the reason the moms went the donor route in the first place. The kids might be sensitive to that, might be afraid that their dads could be hurt if they knew the kid was looking for the sperm donor.”

“But those kids might not want to seem like the wet blanket when their donor siblings were all stoked about the possibility of finding Donor 1735.”

“Exactly.”

“You think one of these kids could be involved in Belinda's disappearance?” he asked.

“I think there's a very good chance that Belinda's disappearance is connected to her involvement with
her donor siblings. It's premature to say how it's related, but I definitely think there's a connection. I just have to figure out what that connection is.”

“We,” he corrected. “We have to figure it out.”

“And you went on the foundation's payroll, when?” She raised an eyebrow.

“You're going to want me along when you talk to these kids, right?”

“Hadn't planned on it.” Emme frowned. “But for the record, why would I want to do that?”

“Because I'm the uncle. Her legal guardian. It gives the whole questioning-the-kids thing credibility.”

“I'm not seeing that connection. And besides,” she added, her eyes on the road straight ahead. “They think you're a perv.”

“Yeah, well, we're going to get to the bottom of that real fast.” Nick looked justifiably annoyed. “I'd sure love to know which of them started that nasty little rumor.”

“I'm sure it was just speculation, like Hayley said. They were just looking for a reason why she might have run away.”

“Why would they have assumed that she'd run away, I wonder?”

“Because it's easier for them to think she'd gone off on her own, than for them to think that she was abducted by someone who meant her harm. Especially if it was someone connected to them.”

“What do you think, Emme?” Nick asked quietly. “What do you really think happened to her?”

She hesitated. “I honestly don't know. I don't think she's a runaway, if that's what you're asking. I do believe she was taken against her will.”

“Do you think she's alive?”

“I don't know.” She owed him an honest answer. “The odds are against it, though. I know you understand that.”

He nodded slowly. “I know that after five months it's not looking too good.”

“I'm sorry, Nick. I hate to assume the worst has happened, but …”

“Yeah, I know. I still want to find her. I still want to know what happened to her.”

She was about to assure him that they'd do their best to make that happen when her phone rang. She glanced at the number before she answered, then looked at the clock. It was well after six.

Shit. Chloe.

“This is Emme,” she said with a sigh.

“Emme, it's Trula. I just wanted to know if it's okay with you if Chloe has dinner with us here at the house.”

“Oh, God, I am so sorry, Trula.” Emme blew out a long breath. “I didn't think we'd be quite this long.”

“Now, don't be sorry. You have a job to do. And I appreciate you letting me borrow this girl for a few hours. We've had a dandy time this afternoon … wait a second there, Chloe would like to say something.”

“Hola
, Mommy!” Chloe sang into the phone. “That means ‘Hello, Mommy,’ in Spanish.”

“Where did you learn that, sweetie?”

“At school today. And know what else I can say?
Tu eres muy linda
. That means ‘You are very pretty,’” Chloe said proudly.

“Well, that's certainly a lot for one day.” Emme
couldn't help but notice how perfect Chloe's accent was. If she said it pleased her that her nursery school teacher was teaching the kids a little Spanish, she'd be lying. Anything remotely connected to Chloe's father would be objectionable. Then again, Spanish was a great language to know. Emme was fairly fluent herself. And to be fair to Chloe, she would someday need to know about her own heritage.

“Mommy? Are you there?”

“I'm here, sweetie.”

“Me and Trula made muffins with walnuts in them. Robert ate one and said it was his favorite muffin
ever.”

“You mean Mr. Magellan,” Emme corrected her.

“No, I mean
Robert
. He said to call him Robert.”

There was no arguing with the boss.

“Okay. Robert, then. Chloe, please put Trula back on the phone.”

“Okay, bye.” Chloe giggled and passed the phone to Trula.

“Again, I apologize for being so late, Trula. And judging from this traffic, it will be another hour at the very least before I get back to pick her up.”

“No rush, dear. We're all going to have a nice dinner and then we're going to practice printing our
C
's.”

“Trula, you don't have to do that.”

“Nonsense. My
C
's could use a little spiffing up. We'll see you when you get here and we'll have some dinner saved for you.”

“Bless you, Trula. When I asked if you'd mind picking her up today, I had no idea I'd be so late,”
Emme said before she realized that Trula had already moved on.

“A problem?” Nick asked after Emme slipped her phone back into her pocket.

“I guess not. Robert Magellan's housekeeper—I say housekeeper because I don't know what else to call her—is entertaining my daughter until I get back to pick her up. Or maybe Chloe is entertaining Trula, I'm not sure.” She smiled in spite of her discomfiture at being late.

“How old is your daughter?”

“She's four.”

“One of the women who works for me has a four-year-old. That seems to be a fun age. At least, this kid is fun. She likes to help polish the chrome before the cars get picked up.”

“You let a four-year-old touch those valuable classic automobiles you restore?”

“Sure. She's very careful not to smudge. Better than some of the guys sometimes.” He smiled. “They're always in a hurry, but this kid, never. She takes it very seriously.”

“Well, four seems to be the age of earnestness. Chloe is very much into helping and doing things just right.”

After a few minutes had passed, Nick asked, “So, are you divorced from her dad?”

“I've never been married.”

“Oh.”

“Chloe is adopted,” she told him. “I've had her since she was only a few days old. She was born on a Friday, and on Monday morning I walked out the front door of the hospital with her in my arms.” She
smiled across the console. “Long story. The short version is, it was love at first sight.”

“I guess it's hard sometimes, raising a child by yourself.”

“Only on days like this when work runs over. Thank God for Trula.”

“It's always good to have a backup,” he agreed. “Who backed you up where you used to live?” Before she could answer, he added, “You have to be new to the area or you wouldn't be living in a hotel, right? Unless your house burned down or something like that.”

“We are new to the area, and we haven't found a permanent place to live yet, so yes, that's why we're still in the hotel.” She nodded. “It isn't too bad, other than the fact that it's Chloe and me in one and a half rooms, not counting the bathroom. There's a pretty good fitness center, which I haven't been able to use as much as I'd thought I would, and an indoor pool, which Chloe and I have used several times. And they do have a pretty good restaurant, so we're able to eat well. Though I'm afraid Chloe is getting spoiled. The chance of me making waffles or pancakes for breakfast every day once we're in a place of our own? Slim to none.”

“Not a cook?”

“Not really. I do okay, but—truthfully—not my thing. Before Chloe, I ate most of my meals on the run. Now I have to make sure we eat healthy and watch the sugar, which means my days of having leftover cake or brownies for breakfast are over.”

“You eat brownies for breakfast?”

“Doesn't everyone?”

He laughed, and she found herself liking the sound of it.

They drove a few miles in silence. Finally, Nick asked, “Are you going to be talking to the parents of the donor kids?”

“I haven't decided yet,” she admitted. “On the one hand, most of these kids are over eighteen, so it's not a legal issue. On the other, if there is something else going on here, the parents should know about it. I'm just not sure they should hear about it from me.”

“That's why I think you need me to set up these appointments, take the lead on contacting these kids.”

“I seem to have missed that connection.”

“Because my niece is the one who's missing. It's a great cover. Besides, I'm starting to grow on you. You like me.”

“Why do I need a cover?” She ignored his attempt at humor.

“Because otherwise you, being an official investigator—a private investigator—could create a panic amongst these kids, who are then unlikely to talk to either of us.”

“Panic might be too strong a word,” she said, “but I suppose some of the kids might feel uneasy if they knew there was a full-scale investigation going on.”

“You said you thought that some of these kids were contacted by the police when they were checking the phone numbers on Belinda's cell phone. As I recall, they all denied knowing her, or said the calls were wrong numbers,” he reminded her. “Which tells me they didn't want to be part of any investigation.”

“Possibly. On the other hand, at least one of these kids thinks you're the reason Belinda is missing.”

When he started to protest, she said, “And remember that you've already contacted these kids via the message board, and no one responded. So I think we're just going to play this by ear. Sometimes I'll take the lead, sometimes you will, but when you make the contacts, I tell you what to say. And I tell you what to type in your emails and I'm on the line when you make those calls. I want to hear exactly what's said and the manner in which they say it. I want to hear the pauses—what's not said as well as what is said.”