Cry Mercy (36 page)

The man at the wheel wore dark glasses and a Ravens cap, brim backwards, a dark red sleeveless T-shirt, cutoff jeans, and a sickening smile. Nick pulled the gun from his waistband and yelled over, “Slow down and head for shore or I'll shoot.”

The man at the wheel laughed out loud, and gave his boat more juice. Nick kept up, but could feel his engine struggling. If the
Follow Me
went much faster, he'd likely outrun him. The bay lay up ahead, and even Nick knew that the small boat he was in probably wouldn't be a good match for the choppy waves of the Chesapeake.

His index finger on the trigger, Nick aimed as
steadily as he could, thinking he'd need to hit something on the boat that would hinder its performance. The truth of it was that he didn't know enough about boats to know where to do the most damage, short of hitting the driver. But an out-of-control boat—one with Emme in it—could be deadly.

The gun probably was not the best idea right now.

He stuck it back into his waistband and edged the boat more to the right. The driver of the other craft was still laughing, as if having the time of his life. Nick swung closer still, until the bows were less than five feet apart. The
Follow Me
put on more speed, and Nick knew he'd lose him if he didn't act quickly. With a quick twist of the wheel, he smacked into the side of the larger boat, and both vessels careened from the impact. The
Follow Me
rocked unsteadily, but maintained its speed. Nick took a deep breath, and drove the bow of his boat into the side of the other, trying to force it toward shore. Two more whacks and speed propelled the bow partially out of the water and in the direction of the gravelly river bank. Nick waited for the man in the cap to pull back on the throttle, but he never did. With his heart in his mouth, Nick watched the
Follow Me
barrel toward the shore. Right before it hit, the driver of the boat bailed over the side and disappeared into the dark water.

The
Follow Me
slammed onto the bank bow first in a sickening crash, the motor screeching when it hit the sand. Nick pulled up on his motor and steered toward land. The driver could drown for all he cared. He just wanted to get to Emme. When he was ten feet from the shore, he cut the engine and dove into the
water. Almost immediately, something grabbed his legs and pulled him under.

The driver of the
Follow Me
was younger and stronger than he'd looked while standing at the wheel, but Nick was taller and equally strong. The two men battled for advantage under the water. Twice they broke the surface to gulp air, and twice they went back below. Finally, Nick was able to get a grip around his opponent's neck, and swam to land with his arm locked tightly around his throat. Gasping for breath, Nick struggled to drag the man with him to where the
Follow Me
had landed on its side.

“Emme!” he called, but there was no answer. With his free hand and with one good push with his foot, he righted the boat, and saw Emme on the stony beach. She moved awkwardly, and he realized her limbs were constrained. He found his pocket knife and cut the tape from her hands.

“You okay, Em?” He was still holding on to her abductor and wasn't about to give the bastard a bit of slack.

Emme swallowed hard and nodded, then screamed as she ripped the tape from her mouth. “Damn, that hurts!”

“Are you all right?” he asked again.

“I don't think anything's broken, but I think I'm going to be damned sore. Everywhere.”

He handed her the knife and she cut the tape that wound around her ankles. She rubbed at her wrists, then wiped the blood from her cheek where the skin had torn away.

“I see you met JJ. Gardner. My, my, won't daddy be proud.” She took a moment to catch her breath
before grabbing the side of the boat and pulling herself up unsteadily. “J.J., meet Nick Perone. Belle's uncle.”

J.J. glared.

“Your cuffs are in my back pocket,” Nick told her. “Fish them out and you can have the honors.”

She reached into his pocket and tugged at the cuffs. Nick turned J.J. around so she could snap them on his wrists.

“Is that my Glock I saw you waving around?” she asked.

“It is.”

“Thanks for not losing it.” She pulled it from his waistband and pointed it at J.J.'s groin. “Now, J.J.—Justin to us folks on the message board, right? I'm not in the best of moods right now, so why don't you just tell us where you buried the girls so we can get on with the business of digging them up?”

He smirked at the Glock. “If you think that scares me, you're dumber than you look. That gun was under water. It isn't going to—”

She pulled the trigger and shot a round into the side of his boat.

“You were about to say something?”

He went white.

“Talk about being dumber than you look.” She smiled at him and held up the handgun. “Here's something you may not have learned on TV. One of the beautiful things about the Glock is that it has all these plastic parts, see? And the ammo's in this nice, tight, dry clip. You can swim with this sucker and it's still going to shoot. So tell me, J.J., where are they? Where are your sisters?”

“They're not my sisters,” he snarled.

“Right, technically, they're only half sisters.”

“They're nothing to me. That whole donor sibling thing, that's such a stupid sham.”

“Clever of you and your sister to climb on that bandwagon so you could see what was going on, though. How'd you find out about them, anyway?”

“Avery found some papers in my dad's desk and she showed them to me.”

“Avery?” Nick asked.

“My sister. Ava.” JJ. rolled his eyes. “She called herself ‘Ava’ on the board because she thought it was funny.”

“Funny, how?”

“Our last name's Gardner, get it?” JJ. stared at Emme as if waiting for the light to dawn. “Hello? Ava Gardner?”

“Oh. Right. Funny girl.” Emme wasn't finding anything about these two amusing. “Go on.”

“We started looking around on the Internet for information about sperm donors and found this website and decided to pretend to be one of them just for fun. It was so lame, you know, this whole donor sibling thing. Like these kids really thought they were related somehow.”

“They are related. They share the same paternal DNA that you have,” Nick reminded him.

“That's just bullshit, don't you get it? They were accidents. Test-tube accidents. Me and Avery, we're his only kids. Those others … they were biological freaks.”

“And what kind of freak are you, J.J.?” Emme asked quietly.

From downriver, they heard sirens. A moment later, three speeding boats were hurtling in their direction.

“Here comes the cavalry,” a much relieved Nick told her. “Right on time.”

I
t was almost four on the following afternoon when the Firebird pulled up to Robert's gate. Emme waved a weary hand to the guard and he waved back.

“I can't wait to see Chloe.” Emme came to life after having slept for half of their drive time. “I can't remember the last time I wasn't home to tuck her into bed. I hope she's okay.”

“Are you kidding? I've got a twenty in my wallet that says she barely knew you were gone.”

She shot him a withering look.

“Okay, she knew you weren't here, but let's face it, she had Trula. And we both know what that means.” He smiled as he parked the car behind the great house. “If anyone can make you forget what's bothering you for a while, it's got to be Trula.”

“I knew she'd be in good hands, and you're right, she didn't seem at all upset when I called last night. Still …”

The back door opened and the little girl shot out.

“Mommy!” she cried as she ran to the car.

“See, she did miss me.” Emme got out of the car and opened her arms to her child.

“Mommy, guess what? Trula and me got a kitty! Her name is Foxy and she's this big!” Chloe held her hands about eight inches apart, then grabbed her mother by the hand and tugged her toward the house. “Come see her.”

“Chloe, don't I get a hug?” Emme knelt down.

“Sure.” Chloe wrapped her arms around her mother's neck and squeezed for one second, which was apparently all she had time for. “Come see Foxy.”

Nick walked past, whistling.

“Smug is not a good look for you,” she told him, and he laughed.

“Nick, come see our kitty,” Chloe ran past them both to open the door.

Trula greeted them in the kitchen. “Well, you two look like you had a rough night.”

“A very rough night,” Emme agreed, not wanting to go into detail in front of Chloe. “We'll talk about it as soon as we can get everyone together.”

Trula nodded. She got the message: the story wasn't one for tender ears.

“Actually, everyone's here,” Trula told her. “In the conference room.”

“Is something going on?” Emme gave Trula a hug. “Thank you so much for letting Chloe stay with you. I appreciate it so much.”

“We had a grand time.” Trula patted Emme on the back. “I suppose you heard all about our trip to the small-animal-rescue shelter this morning.”

“Not quite, but I'm sure I will very soon.”

“I hope you don't mind, Emme. The cat will stay here, of course, but she's talked about nothing else for
the past several days, and frankly, once she brought it up, it did seem like a good idea.”

“I don't mind at all. I think it's wonderful of you to do this.”

“Here she is, Mommy. Isn't she beautiful?” Chloe held up the little orange tabby kitten. “She is so soft. You can pet her but you must be very gentle because she's just a baby.”

“She is very sweet.” Emme took the kitten and held it up to take a good look. “Such pretty eyes.”

“Let Nick hold her next.” Chloe jumped up and down. “Then me again.”

Emme passed the kitten off to Nick and he made a suitable fuss. Mallory came in through the swinging door and stopped in her tracks when she saw Emme.

“So. I hear you had a successful evening,” she said. “Congratulations. We saw everything on the news this morning. Good job.”

Surprised by her curtness, Emme nodded and replied, “If by successful you mean”—she glanced quickly at Chloe and found her totally wrapped up in her new pet—“we found what we were looking for on all counts, then yes, we had a very successful evening. I'll be happy to give you all the details. The story isn't a pretty one, but we did what we set out to do. We found Belinda.”

“You have my condolences, Nick,” Mallory told him. “I'm sorry there wasn't a happier ending for your niece and for you.”

“It's what I expected, but thank you. And thanks for taking on the case. Otherwise, I'd still be wondering…”

“Well, I guess the thanks all go to Emme.” Mallory turned
to her and added, “Or should I say, to Ann?”

Emme froze for a moment, her breath caught in her throat, the beating of her heart stopped inside her chest. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. She glanced at Nick, who was staring at her, a puzzled expression on his face.

“I think you owe us all an explanation,” Mallory said coolly. “Actually, we've been waiting for you to get back.”

Emme nodded slowly. “I suppose now is as good a time as any.”

“Em?” Nick was still staring at her from across the room.

“Nick, would you mind staying with Chloe for a while?” Her voice quivering, she addressed Trula. “I think you should probably come, too.”

“I don't mind staying with Chloe, but I would like to know what's going on.”

“I'll explain everything later. Right now—” She shook her head.

Emme kissed the top of her daughter's head and told her with more enthusiasm than she felt, “I'll be in the conference room, sweetie.”

“Okay, Mommy.” Chloe's attention was on the length of string she was dangling in front of the kitten, which was batting at it wildly.

Mallory and Trula followed Emme from the room and up the steps. Her heart was in her mouth as she entered the conference room where Robert, Susanna, and Father Kevin awaited them.

“Before anything else is said, I do want to say congratulations,”
Robert told her. “I understand you had a bit of a rough time.”

“I managed to get away with only bruises, which is more than any of his other victims managed to do,” she said softly.

“How's the congressman taking it?”

“About as well as anyone who found out that his son was a serial murderer, and his daughter an accomplice. And all the victims were his incidental offspring.” Emme took a seat and exhaled. “Gardner is going to withdraw from the senate race and is resigning from the state House of Representatives.”

“It's a shame,” Robert said somberly. “I understand he was a good man. Word was that he'd have been an asset in the U.S. Senate.”

“How many victims were there?” Father Kevin asked.

“JJ. Gardner raped and murdered four of his half sisters. There may have been others. The FBI has been called in and will be handling the case from here on in. We know that he shot and killed one of the boys—Henry—but I'm pretty sure he would have gone after the other two—the twins—before too long.”

“So how many of these kids are left?” Trula wanted to know.

“Just Hayley, the youngest of the girls, and the twin boys. I think his plan was to get rid of all of them.”

“Didn't he think that someone would put this together?” Kevin wondered.

“They lived in different states, and so far no one had connected the disappearances. I actually called the department that was handling the Carroll-Wilson case, but they didn't think there was a connection
because there was so much time—five months—separating the incidents.”

“So these kids, Ava and J.J., were afraid the others coming out of the woodwork were going to ruin his father's chances to win the election?” Robert rested his forearms on the table. “You think that's the motive?”

“I think that's part of it. And Ava, by the way, is actually Avery. JJ. was Justin on the message board.” Emme told him. “I think in the beginning, to her, it was a game. But right from the start, JJ. was protecting what he saw as his. His home, his name, his share of what would be quite a substantial inheritance someday. He wasn't about to share with these nobodies. And once he killed that first time, he found he liked it, pure and simple. He wanted to do it again. He'd convinced himself that these girls were no real relation to him, so he felt okay about raping them and strangling them afterward.”