Cry Mercy (21 page)

“Let's send it before we change our minds again,” Nick said, his fingers poised.

“I agree. There's not much more we can say other than what we already have.” Emme ticked off the high points of the text. “We read the article, admire his creative mind. We know Belle was in contact with him, here's the situation with Belle. When did he last hear from her? How far had she gotten in her quest? Does he know if she completed her search? And more specifically, if she located Donor 1735, did she contact him?”

“That's it.” He hit send. “We're done. What else today?”

“That's it for now,” she said. “We're not going to know anything more until we hear from the others, and that could be anytime between now and never.”

“I think I'll head on back to the garage then.” Nick looked at his watch. “I have a '65 Mustang coming in this afternoon for an evaluation and I need to be there when the owner arrives. I'll let you know if I hear anything from Aaron.”

“So I'll meet you at the zoo tomorrow at one, then.” Emme closed her laptop.

“Maybe we should make it a little earlier, so Chloe and I can get to know each other a little,” Nick said thoughtfully. “Let's make it eleven thirty at the gate, and we can walk over to the Tiger Terrace and have lunch. I saw it on the map, it's near the middle of the zoo. That way, Chloe and I won't be total strangers when I walk her off to look at the animals. She might
think it's strange that you let her walk away with someone she doesn't know.”

“Chloe believes that strangers are merely friends she hasn't met yet. She's entirely too trusting. But you're right. She needs to understand that I wouldn't let her walk away with just anyone. She should know that we're …” She fished for the right word. “Acquaintances.”

“Acquaintances?” He raised an eyebrow. “Is that the best we can do? After all, we've been spending a lot of time in each other's company. I'd like to think at this point, we're at least friends.”

“Friends.” Emme nodded. “Friends works.”

“Okay, then. I'll see you and Chloe tomorrow morning.”

“Great.” She walked him to the door. “Eleven thirty. At the front gate.”

“And if you hear anything noteworthy from any of the siblings—”

“I'll contact you.”

“Good. Well, then.” They reached her office door. “I guess I'll see you there.”

“Right.” She smiled and hugged her laptop to her chest. She stayed in the doorway and watched as Nick headed for the front of the house.

“Whoa,” someone whispered in her ear. “That was the uncle?”

“Yeah.” Emme turned to find Mallory enjoying the view as Nick disappeared around the slight bend in the hall.

“Nice jeans.” Mallory smiled and returned to her own office.

“Yeah.” Emme nodded in agreement. “Not bad.”

.

He stared at the screen, not quite believing what he was seeing. When it became apparent that he was not imagining the message he'd received, he smacked his fist on the desktop.

“Stupid bitch,” he growled. “Stupid, stupid bitch!”

He went on to the next message, which did little to improve his state of mind. Nor did the emails, which had been copied to all of the members of the group.

“God damn it.”

He rose, hoping to walk off the rage that was building inside him. It wasn't working.

“Why can't people mind their own fucking business?” he muttered as he paced the length of the room and back.

He returned to the screen, making mental notes of the wheres and the whens. Satisfied that he had all he needed to know, he turned off the computer. He just couldn't take anymore.

He left the house by the back door and walked out to the yard. A swim might help, he told himself as he passed the pool. The sun was high in the sky and the humidity was building by the hour. A swim, yes, a swim would help. He went to the pool house and changed into a suit he kept there. He grabbed a clean towel off the stack by the door and tossed it onto a lounge as he passed by. Walking directly to the deep end, he dove deeply, his fingers tracing along the bottom of the pool until he reached the shallow end. He surfaced quickly, the water sliding smoothly off his skin. He floated on his back for a moment, the itching inside him only growing more intense.

He began to do laps, hoping to wear down the feeling, but after nearly an hour, close to exhaustion, he realized exercise would not help. Not today, when he was so agitated.

Pulling himself up onto the diving board, he leaned back and rested on his elbows and stared down at the water, and wondered how things had gotten so messed up in his life. As if it mattered at this point, he reflected. There was no turning back now.

And in truth, did he really want to turn back? Would he really wish away the one thing in his life that brought him true satisfaction, true ecstasy, true bliss?

He tried to remember when he first realized that he was actually going to take a life. It had seemed necessary at the time but he couldn't remember when that had become clear, that the killing wasn't an option, but, like it or not, something he had to do. He'd come to accept that sometimes there were certain things that simply had to be done. Killing was one of them. It was something he'd sort of grown into, something he found he had a surprising talent for, and that he'd liked. A lot.

That had been the biggest surprise—that he enjoyed it as much as he did, liked the high like nothing else he'd ever experienced. He dove into the water again when he felt the first stirring of the desire that came over him every time he thought about taking a life. The knowledge surged through him that he'd be feeding that desire, and soon—much sooner than he'd expected. This time would present a greater challenge, would require more planning, but that was
okay. He enjoyed the process, though not quite as much as he enjoyed the execution.

He smiled, realizing his pun.
Ha! The execution. Good one!

He got out of the pool, dried off, and walked back to the house, whistling all the way.

T
he steam rose off the asphalt in waves. Emme pulled the elastic from her ponytail and reworked it to raise her hair off the back of her neck, then did the same for Chloe.

Leave it to me to pick the hottest day of the year for a trip into the city. Way to go
, she grumbled to herself.

“Where's your friend, Mommy?” Chloe asked.

“He'll be here soon, I'm sure.” Emme and Chloe stood well inside the zoo gate, holding hands and watching the crowd filter in. It was nearly eleven thirty, but already the temperature was rising toward ninety, the humidity keeping pace. “I called him on my cell phone before we left to tell him we'd meet him here, instead of the Tiger Terrace.”

“What's the Tiger Terrace?” Chloe kicked a little pebble with her foot, then followed it to where it lay, and kicked it again. Emme grabbed her by the shoulder before she could kick it out into the stream of tourists coming through the zoo gates.

“It's a place where you can buy food and eat. At least I think it is. Like a restaurant.”

“The place where Trula didn't want us to eat?”

Emme looked up and saw Nick walking toward them. She couldn't help but smile. He looked happy to see her, and in spite of the heat, looked cool as the proverbial cucumber. She wondered how he did that.

“Trula was afraid we'd eat hot dogs,” Emme said, her eyes still on Nick.

“Why is she afraid of hot dogs?” Chloe asked.

“Because sometimes they have things in them that might not be good for you.” Nick said as he joined them. “Hi, Chloe. I'm Nick, your mom's friend.”

“I know what's in hot dogs, do you?” Chloe asked solemnly, looking up at him.

“Nitrates?” he replied.

“No, beef.” She turned to her mother. “Why doesn't Trula like beef?”

“Trula does like beef. What Nick said—nitrates—aren't good for people and some hot dogs have them.” Emme looked from Chloe to Nick. “Why are we having this conversation?”

“Because someone is curious. But for the record, I'm betting the Tiger Terrace has other things besides hot dogs,” Nick said.

“But we have a picnic,” Chloe pointed to the cooler on wheels that stood next to her mother's feet. “Trula made it.”

“So your mom told me on the phone.” Nick nodded in the direction of the cooler.

“Trula only likes special food,” Chloe told him.

“So what's in the special picnic basket?” he asked.

“Turkey sandwiches. Salad. Grapes. Cookies. Water.” Chloe counted off the contents on her fingers.

“That does sound special,” he agreed.

“That's cause the turkey is free grown,” Chloe confided.

“Free range,” Emme corrected.

“Right.” Chloe nodded. “That.”

“There are some tables over here under the trees,” Emme said, pointing. “I suggest we take one of those while there's still one to be had. In this heat, I'm thinking the tables in the shade will be the first to go.”

Nick grabbed the cooler. “You lead, I'll follow.”

“Trula was mad because she didn't know we were going on a picnic and she didn't have time to make us more food,” Chloe said as they began to unload the basket.

“Judging by the weight of this cooler, I'd say she did just fine,” Nick observed.

“Trula dotes on Chloe,” Emme explained. “Actually, she dotes on all of us there at the foundation.”

Nick placed the cooler on the designated table and opened the lid. Chloe dove in.

“But mostly on me, ′cause I'm special.” Chloe handed Nick a bottle of water. “She said to make sure we remember to drink a lot of water today because it's going to be a scorcher.”

Nick bit back a laugh and took the bottle. “Well, she's right about that. It's already hot.”

“Maybe too hot to be at the zoo,” Emme said.

“No, it's not,” Chloe held up her bottle and her mother twisted off the top for her. “It's going to be just right.”

“The animals might be a bit mopey,” Emme told her. “Some of them don't like the heat.”

“But some do, right?”

“I suppose some do,” Emme nodded and passed out the sandwiches, hers and Nick's on rolls, Chloe's on a biscuit, just the right size for a four-year-old appetite.

They chatted through lunch, and after they finished and cleaned up the table, Nick found an information stand that had a map of the zoo and several brochures.

“Here, Chloe, let's decide where we'll go first,” he said.

Emme checked her watch. Lori and Henry should be arriving any minute. She stood for a better view of the gate.

“Do you have the photo that Ali sent you?” Nick asked.

“No, but I remember what they look like,” she assured him.

“Look, Nick, giraffes.” Chloe pointed excitedly to the brochure. “I never saw a real giraffe.”

“Yes, you did,” Emme reminded her, never taking her eyes off the gate. “In San Diego, remember?”

“I was too little then.” Chloe shook her head. “I don't remember.”

Chloe turned her attention back to the brochure and the map, chatting happily about the animals they'd see.

“No sign of them yet?” Nick asked after another ten minutes had gone by.

Emme shook her head.

“How much longer before we can see the animals, Mommy?” Chloe tugged on her arm.

“Soon, sweetie. Just be patient for a little longer.”

“I have been very patient.” Chloe pulled on Emme's arm until her mother was bent at the waist and they were face to face.

“Yes, you have.” Emme smoothed back Chloe's hair. “But I think we have to wait a little longer. I don't know why they're so late.”

“You always say it's rude to be late.”

“And it is. Unless you're stuck in traffic, which they might be.”

“Then they should call you. You always say—”

“Chloe, how ′bout you and I go take a look at the Rare Animal Conservation Center.” Nick held up the brochure. “Look, here are some of the animals we might see there.”

He squatted down, the brochure open, and Chloe leaned over his shoulder. “What's that one?”

“That is a blue-eyed black lemur,” he read.

“Its eyes are very big.” She pointed to the animal. “Are they really blue?”

“How ′bout we go find out?”

“Mommy, can we go to see the … what was it again?”

“The blue-eyed black lemur.”

“That. Can we go see it?” Chloe asked excitedly.

“You and Nick go on. I'll wait here.” Emme crossed her arms over her chest. Chloe wasn't the only one feeling impatient. “But you must stay with Nick. Promise.”

“I will.” Chloe grabbed his hand. “Which way?”

Emme watched as her daughter disappeared into the crowd with Nick and felt just the slightest bit of unease. She could count on the fingers of one hand the number of people she'd let Chloe go off with
alone. Steffie, of course, and recently Trula. Other than that … had there been anyone else she'd trusted enough? She didn't think so.

She checked her watch again. Lori and Henry were now thirty minutes late. Of course there could be traffic—after all, they were driving down from Connecticut, and it was a Saturday in the summer. Lots of people on the road, heading off on vacation. They'd turn up sooner or later. She returned to the bench where they'd had their lunch and sat on the edge of the table.

After another twenty minutes had passed, she dialed first Lori's phone number, then Henry's, leaving a message for each and hoping that one of them would be listening to it before much longer. She was getting hotter and more annoyed with each passing minute. She took a bottle of water from the cooler and placed it on the back of her neck, cursing the heat and the fact that the website for Conroy, Pennsylvania, had neglected to mention anything about humidity.

To pass the time, she put in a call to Steffie. It had been several days since they'd spoken, and she wanted to keep an eye on what was being said in Silver Hill. The last she'd heard, everyone in the department was still buzzing about her abrupt departure. Steffie'd made up some story about Ann being very ill and staying with some friends.

“So does everyone think I'm still dying?” she asked when her friend answered.

“Pretty much, yeah, I'm afraid they do,” Steffie admitted. “At least if you die, they'll stop asking.”

“I guess that's one way of looking at it,” she muttered, still not sold on the idea. “But I'm not dead yet, right?”