Mariah Stewart - Cry Mercy

After a moment's consideration, he replied, “All right.”

Surprised that Nick conceded with no further protest, Emme began to dial the Princeton number, then realized that whomever the Nash child was she was seeking, he or she would probably still be in school at this hour. She'd wait until four to call. She redialed Nick to let him know she'd wait.

“′Preciate it,” he told her. “I'd have been wondering.”

“Who are you kidding? You'd have been calling.”

“You catch on fast.”

At 4:10 P.M., Emme dialed the number, which rang five times before voice mail activated. She hung up without leaving a message. When she tried again thirty minutes later, a young girl answered.

“Hello?”

“Hello, may I ask who's speaking, please?”

“This is Hayley. Who's this?”

“Hayley, my name is Emme Caldwell. I'm a private investigator. I work for the Mercy Street Foundation. I'm looking for Belinda-Belle Hudson-on behalf of her family.”

Silence. Then, “I don't know anyone with that name.”

“Of course you do, Hayley,” Emme's voice dropped to a soothing tone. “She's one of your donor siblings.”

“How do you know that?”

“I'm a really good investigator.”

“What do you want?”

“I want to talk to you about Belle.”

“Why?”

“Because she's been missing for a long time, and she went missing on a day when her calendar indicated she'd had something planned with her donor siblings.”

Again, silence.

“Hayley, do you have ideas about what might have happened to Belle, where she might be?”

“I… I didn't know she was really missing. Everyone just thought she got involved at school or something and was just taking a break from the board.”

“Have others done that? Taken a break?”

“Sure. Sometimes things get pretty intense.”

“Why's that?”

“Oh, you know. Some people are more into the whole sibling thing than others.”

“Look, Hayley, I'd like to meet with you and talk about-”

“I don't think I-”

“Hayley, this is a very serious situation.” Emme's tone became more authoritative. “Belle could be in great danger.”

She didn't think adding “if she's still alive” would have been best under the circumstances.

“I don't know where she is,” Hayley protested. “I don't know anything.”

“I'm sorry you feel that way. I'm sure your mother will appreciate how serious this is, even if you don't.”

“No, no, don't call my mother.” Hayley began to cry. “She'll be so mad. She doesn't know about the boards. About the others. She'll freak out. She didn't want me to look for my sibs, but I did it anyway. If she finds out, she'll ground me. Like, forever.”

“I'm sorry about that. I really am. But we're talking about a missing girl here.”

“All right.” Hayley sniffed and blew her nose. Emme held the phone from her ear until the blowing stopped. “I'll meet you. It will have to be after school, though, on one of the days when I'm in town late.”

“You tell me where and when and I'll be there.”

“How do I know you're not a white slaver or something? How do I know you're really a detective?”

“You look up the Mercy Street Foundation on your computer. You'll find my name on the website.”

“Is there a picture of you there?”

“No.” No picture of me anywhere, Emme could have told her. God knows who might see it, and recognize her for who she really was.

“Then how will I know?” the girl persisted.

“Look up the number and ask for me and when I get on the phone, you ask me for a code word. No one would know that but me.”

“Okay, cool. The code word is… Bonkers.”

“Bonkers?”

“That's my cat.”

“All right. I'll expect to hear from you within the next fifteen minutes. No later.”

Kids do enjoy a bit of intrigue, Emme thought as she hung up. She supposed she had when she was younger, too. For years she'd waited for her real parents to show up at whatever foster home she was in at the time and take her to her real home. Every night before she fell asleep, she'd play the scene over in her head like a scene from Growing Pains or Family Ties , the shows she watched on TV every week. There'd be a tearful reunion and she'd be swept from her tiny bed in her foster home into a long white limousine and transported to a beautiful house on a hill where every moment of her previously meager existence would be forgotten.

Emme smiled ruefully. Those were the days…

Her phone rang and she answered, “Emme Caldwell.”

“Okay, so what's the code word?” Hayley asked.

“That would be Bonkers.”

“Okay, so it's really you. I guess that's cool.”

“So what day this week looks good to you?” Emme pressed her.

“I have a music lesson on Thursday, but I usually have to wait until six for my mom to pick me up on her way home from work.”

“Where and what time?”

“There's a pancake house on Nassau Street, right near the theater. I can meet you there at four o'clock.” Hayley paused. “How will I know you?”

“Well, we could-”

“I know, I'll wear a red scarf. You wear something red, too.”

“All right. I'll see you on Thursday at four. Red accessory mandatory.”

“No, no, a red rose,” Hayley said excitedly. “There's a flower shop down the street. You can buy one there.”

“Fine.” Emme couldn't help but smile. “One red rose it is.”

Intrigue, indeed .

She punched in the number of Nick's cell phone.

“I have a sit-down with Hayley Nash on Thursday at four. I'm assuming you want to come along.” She was typing the pertinent information into her computer. “I'm estimating it will take three hours to get there, so you need to be here no later than one, in case we hit traffic.”

“Where will you be?”

“I'll meet you in the parking lot at the hotel. And oh, yeah-this time, I'm driving.”

“So, this whole donor sibling thing, it's like a movement now?” Nick asked. They were driving over the Scudder Falls Bridge connecting Pennsylvania to New Jersey in light midafternoon traffic. “Not that it isn't understandable. Dr. Drake said there were tens of thousands of these kids born every year. That's a lot of kids who know only half their story, so I guess it's natural to want to know the rest of it. I mean, everyone wants to know who they are, where they came from, right?”

“Not necessarily.”

“Spoken like a woman who knows who she is.”

Emme forced a smile.

“Hey, not everyone is as secure as you are, you know?” he told her. “I think it would be really hard to only know one half of your family. You know your mother, but your father-nada. It's normal to want to be able to get a feel for him. To be able to reach out to all the members of your family.”

He paused, as if expecting her to say something. When she did not, he continued. “Take my grandparents, for example. They were real important to me. Shaped my whole life. I don't know where I'd be or what I'd be doing if it hadn't been for my granddad.”

“Have you ever thought of doing something else?”

He shook his head without hesitation. “Why would I want to do that? I have my own business. I'm doing something that I love. I look forward to going to my garage every single day.”

“There are a lot of people into this car thing, I take it?”

“A lot, yes.”

“And a lot of them come to you to fix their cars?”

Nick smiled. “I restore the cars, not fix them. Big difference. And yes, a lot of people bring their babies to me.”

“I take it you're good at what you do.”