Cry Mercy (34 page)

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Authors: Mariah Stewart

BOOK: Cry Mercy
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“Hey, anytime you get a lead on a car like that one, we're in.” Robert slapped Nick on the back. “Seriously. That Aston-Martin is a dream come true for me.”

“In its present condition, that might be a stretch,
Robert.” Nick grinned. “But we'll see what we can do for you.”

“I can't wait.” Robert shook his hand, and Nick said his good-byes to Trula and Kevin.

Nick went out to his car and rolled down the windows, thinking how nice it might be to have a new car with all the most up-to-date features like automatic windows and air-conditioning that blew really cold. He might have to break down one of these days and look into picking up something with air bags and antilock brakes. There was something to be said about the latest safety features.

He turned the Firebird around and drove toward the gates, waving to the guard as he passed by. He drove slowly and dialed Emme's phone.

“Hey,” he said when she answered.

“Hey, yourself. How'd the great car search go?” she asked.

“Today Robert joined the ranks of classic car owners. He's a very happy man. I'm thinking if you're going to ask for a raise or a day off, today might be a good day to do it,” Nick replied.

“We'll see what kind of a mood he's in when I get back there. I'm on my way to meet Ava at Congressman Gardner's home.”

“Wow. There's a pitch out of the blue. How'd that happen?”

“Ava called and said she wanted to talk to Gardner about his donor status, and asked me to be there with her. She said she thought my presence might make the meeting more official, and that she'd feel safer if I was there.”

“Safer?” Nick frowned. “Safer from whom? Gardner? He didn't seem like much of a threat to me.”

“I agree, but she told me an entirely different story than the one we got from him. According to Ava, Belle told her that she had identified Gardner as Donor 1735 and that she was on her way to meet with him when she left the art museum in January.”

“What?”

“She said that she spoke with Belle while Belle was driving to Maryland, that Belle was going to Gardner's house to try to talk to him. When Ava didn't hear from Belle, she just figured Gardner wasn't home when she got there and that Belle just continued on back to school. Ava said she's been busy at school and figured that Belle was, too. Until she saw my emails, she wasn't aware that Belle's been missing all this time.”

“She didn't try to contact Belinda at all?”

“It's the same thing we've heard from all these kids, Nick. They get busy with their own lives, they back off for a while, they resurface when things are less hectic for them. Ava said she hadn't heard from Belle, but on the other hand, she hadn't been in contact with any of the others during that time, either.”

“So she doesn't know if Belinda ever spoke with Gardner.”

“No, and it's my guess she did not. I really thought he was being up front with us the other day.”

“So you said.” Nick fell thoughtful for a moment. “Any chance you're wrong about that?”

“There's always a chance that I'm wrong. But I'm pretty good at reading people. I didn't believe he was lying at the time, and I still don't.”

“Hey, you know, Ballard is only a little more than an hour away from me. Maybe we could meet somewhere and have dinner. I know a couple of really great seafood places on the bay.”

“I'd love that. I don't expect to be with Gardner for too long. We both know the congressman doesn't have a problem pulling the plug when he's said what he has to say.”

“True enough. So what do you think, maybe a half hour there?”

“I doubt he'd give Ava any more time than that,” Emme said. “He made it pretty clear the other day that he doesn't have any interest in these kids.”

“I know a great little place we can meet. It's maybe a half hour from Ballard.”

“Perfect.”

“Call me when you get to Gardner's, and I'll know how much time I have to get there.”

“Will do. I should be there by four, so I should be leaving by about four thirty, probably no later than four forty-five. Do you think we should invite Ava to join us?”

“No. I want to see you, spend some time alone, public though it may be.”

“Sounds good. I was just trying to be nice, anyway.”

“You are being nice. You're driving three hours to keep her company. I'll see you later.” Nick hung up, smiling. He knew it would be only dinner—she did have Chloe waiting for her—but even that was fine. He wanted to see her, wanted to be with her. They'd spent some time together since the day at the farm,
but neither of them had spoken about what had happened between them. There'd been things he'd wanted to say, words that had just never made their way out of his mouth. He was hoping to do better tonight.

He turned on the radio hoping for inspiration. The best he could find was a station that played love ballads from the fifties and sixties. He sang along all the way to Khoury's Ford.

He stopped at Automobilia to look over the mail and to check on what the other mechanics had done while he was gone. He finished making his rounds in the garage and looked up at the large wall clock over the door into the office. It was four thirty. He checked his phone for missed calls but none showed on the screen. Frowning, he dialed her number. She should have been there by now. Actually, according to her timetable, she should be leaving Gardner's by now. Had she simply forgotten to call? Or had he misunderstood? Had she said she'd call when she was leaving Gardner's?

Emme didn't pick up his call, so he left a message that he was going to head over to the restaurant and gave her driving directions, then drove there himself. When he arrived at five fifteen and she still hadn't called, he called her again.

Once again, the call went to voice mail. He got out of his car and walked to the end of the parking lot and back again. He pulled out his cell phone, scrolled down his contact list until he found the main number for the foundation, and called. Then he waited while the directory went through the staff names and extensions.
He punched in the number for Robert, and waited, not confident that the call would be picked up. When Robert answered, he was caught off guard.

“Robert, it's Nick. I really didn't expect to get through to you but I'm glad I did.”

“I'm usually not in my office at this hour but something's come up.” Robert sounded distracted.

“I'm sorry to bother you. I was just wondering if you'd heard from Emme.” Nick explained the situation.

“No, but let me ask.” He put his hand over the phone and spoke with someone in the background. “No, no one's heard from her.”

“Maybe I should drive down there and see if she ever arrived.” Nick thought aloud.

“I can tell you if she's there,” Robert said, “if that would help.”

“How can you do that? She isn't answering her phone.”

“She doesn't have to for me to track it. The phones we had designed for the foundation have GPS in them.”

“I thought most cell phones had GPS.”

“A lot of them do. But ours have a system I can track on the computer myself. Hold on, Nick, let me see what I can do.”

Moments later, Robert came back on the line. “I have her at 38 Pond Drive, Ballard, Maryland.”

“That's it. So she is there.”

“Is there a problem, Nick?”

“Probably not. Thanks, Robert. Sorry to have bothered you.” Nick hung up and walked back to the
car. He was feeling antsy, unsettled, and wasn't sure why.

Maybe things hadn't gone so smoothly with Congressman Gardner after all. Maybe he should drive down to Ballard and just see for himself what was keeping her. He debated. If all was well, Emme might not appreciate him inviting himself to the party.

But if all was well, why hadn't she called?


Mallory sat across the desk from Robert and studied his face. In the time she'd worked for him, she'd never seen him so confounded.

“You're telling me that Emme Caldwell isn't Emme Caldwell,” he said, as if he had trouble understanding the words. “Emme isn't Emme, she's really someone named Ann Nolan?”

“Yes. That's what I'm telling you.”

“And you are absolutely, 100 percent positive of this.”

“I wouldn't have come to you if I wasn't certain, Robert.”

“But she's still a cop, right?”

“Yes, she was a police officer in California.”

“Have you spoken to her former department about this?”

“I tried to,” Mallory told him, “but the chief of police is on vacation this week and I really didn't want to discuss this with anyone else there.”

“Why would she lie about who she is?” He frowned. “And how could she get the chief of police to lie for her?”

“I've been asking myself those very questions.” “I guess you're going to have to ask her point blank,” Robert told her. “I guess we'll both have some questions for her when she gets back tonight. I want to know why she wasn't honest with us.”

“Well, as far as I'm concerned, the
why
is almost immaterial. She gave us a false application, Robert. The real question is, what are we going to do about it?”

Anthony Navarro leaned against the fence rail and brushed the dirt from his hands before answering his ringing phone. He'd been out for his afternoon ride on his favorite horse and had just dropped the gelding off at the stable for one of the hands to cool down. Some of his compadres fussed over him because he took off on his own every day for thirty or forty minutes, but he paid them little mind. What was the point in being who he was if he was to be locked in this house or that—he owned several—and could never leave? Besides, he knew he had little to fear. He owned everyone between here and the US border.

“Yes?” He wasn't wary of answering this most private of phones. Only those closest to him knew the number. He checked the caller ID. It was his brother, Jesus.

“We got a call that you might be interested in,” his brother said. “We have a tip on the girl.”

“We've had a lot of tips. She's in Detroit. She's in Florida. She's gone to Canada. Last week she was seen on a beach in Costa Rica. So where is she this week?”

“Pennsylvania.”

“Of course she is. If I'm going to run with the daughter of a dangerous man, I'd run to Pennsylvania, too.”

“Seriously, Anthony. One of our friends was contacted by a cop from Silver Hill.”

“The department Nolan worked for?”

“Yeah. He says she's changed her name and she's working for this Mercy place.”

“What is that?”

“It's some like, company, that finds missing persons for free.”

“They work for free?”

“Yeah. This rich dude, Robert Magellan, runs it.”

“Robert Magellan?” That was a name Navarro knew. “Rich dude, for sure. This cop says Nolan is working for him?”

“Yeah. He said he intercepted a phone call about it.”

“Magellan is like, one of the richest dudes in the country.” Navarro began to walk to the house. “He probably has mad security.”

“At his workplace and his house, sure. But she has to live someplace else, right? And kids are kids. She has to play sometime, has to go to school somewhere.”

Navarro went through his front door and directly to his office and sat at his desk.

“What's the name of this place again?” he asked.

“Mercy Street Foundation.”

“Give me a minute.” He typed in the name and waited for the website to pull up.

“Here we go. Let's see what they have here. Staff bios … Robert Magellan … Susanna Jones … Mallory Russo …” Navarro laughed. “He's even got a priest on his staff. Is that for real?” He clicked on the icon for Father Kevin Burch. “Pastor, Our Lady of Angels … there's a picture of the church.”

He went back to the staff page.

“Interesting. Only one member of the staff doesn't have a picture on line. Emme Caldwell.”

“That's her. That's Nolan.”

“You're sure of this.”

“This cop that called, Whittaker, says it's her.”

“What do we know about him? Whittaker?”

“He's helped us out from time to time,” Jesus told him. “What do you want me to do, Anthony?”

“Nothing, bro. I'll take care of this myself. Thanks.”

He hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. His first instinct was to send a squadron of thugs to Conroy, Pennsylvania, grab his daughter and this woman, Ann, Emme, whatever she was calling herself. But that would be stupid. Anthony Navarro was a lot of things. Stupid wasn't one of them.

He got up and walked to the window, thinking it through. The woman didn't matter. As much as he'd love to punish her for taking his only child and trying to hide her away—make this Ann Nolan regret the day she was born—he didn't have to take her to hurt her. He would simply leave her to live in the hell of knowing that the girl was gone and was going to stay gone, that she'd never see her again.

He turned his attention back to the website and
read, then reread every page until inspiration struck. When it did, he found himself grinning from ear to ear, overwhelmed by his own brilliance.

He was pretty sure he knew where to find his child, and who to send to bring her to him.

TWENTY-SEVEN

A
ll Emme knew when she opened her eyes was that it was much later in the afternoon than it had been, and she had one bitch of a headache. She could hear voices from somewhere close by but her head hadn't cleared quite enough to figure out what was being said or by whom. She lay awkwardly on the ground and hoped the fog would begin to clear soon. She tried to move but her wrists were taped behind her and her ankles were taped together. There was tape across her mouth, which forced her to breath through her nose.

It took several moments for it to dawn on her where she was, and why she'd gone there. She remembered the conversation with Ava on the phone, the drive to Ballard. She'd parked the car next to a black Mercedes sedan, reached for her phone to call Nick, and from there things began to get fuzzy. She'd gotten out of the car, hadn't she? A young woman had been walking toward her, a smile on her face.

“I'm Ava,” she'd said, her hand stretched out to Emme.

Had there been a sound behind her, something
she'd not been able to place? A smack to the back of the head—that she was certain of. Something hard that had driven her to her knees, and had flooded her mind with darkness.

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