Cry Mercy (19 page)

“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.”