Mariah Stewart - Cry Mercy

“Hola , Mommy!” Chloe sang into the phone. “That means ‘Hello, Mommy,’ in Spanish.”

“Where did you learn that, sweetie?”

“At school today. And know what else I can say? Tu eres muy linda . That means ‘You are very pretty,’” Chloe said proudly.

“Well, that's certainly a lot for one day.” Emme couldn't help but notice how perfect Chloe's accent was. If she said it pleased her that her nursery school teacher was teaching the kids a little Spanish, she'd be lying. Anything remotely connected to Chloe's father would be objectionable. Then again, Spanish was a great language to know. Emme was fairly fluent herself. And to be fair to Chloe, she would someday need to know about her own heritage.

“Mommy? Are you there?”

“I'm here, sweetie.”

“Me and Trula made muffins with walnuts in them. Robert ate one and said it was his favorite muffin ever.”

“You mean Mr. Magellan,” Emme corrected her.

“No, I mean Robert . He said to call him Robert.”

There was no arguing with the boss.

“Okay. Robert, then. Chloe, please put Trula back on the phone.”

“Okay, bye.” Chloe giggled and passed the phone to Trula.

“Again, I apologize for being so late, Trula. And judging from this traffic, it will be another hour at the very least before I get back to pick her up.”

“No rush, dear. We're all going to have a nice dinner and then we're going to practice printing our C 's.”

“Trula, you don't have to do that.”

“Nonsense. My C 's could use a little spiffing up. We'll see you when you get here and we'll have some dinner saved for you.”

“Bless you, Trula. When I asked if you'd mind picking her up today, I had no idea I'd be so late,” Emme said before she realized that Trula had already moved on.

“A problem?” Nick asked after Emme slipped her phone back into her pocket.

“I guess not. Robert Magellan's housekeeper-I say housekeeper because I don't know what else to call her-is entertaining my daughter until I get back to pick her up. Or maybe Chloe is entertaining Trula, I'm not sure.” She smiled in spite of her discomfiture at being late.

“How old is your daughter?”

“She's four.”

“One of the women who works for me has a four-year-old. That seems to be a fun age. At least, this kid is fun. She likes to help polish the chrome before the cars get picked up.”

“You let a four-year-old touch those valuable classic automobiles you restore?”

“Sure. She's very careful not to smudge. Better than some of the guys sometimes.” He smiled. “They're always in a hurry, but this kid, never. She takes it very seriously.”

“Well, four seems to be the age of earnestness. Chloe is very much into helping and doing things just right.”

After a few minutes had passed, Nick asked, “So, are you divorced from her dad?”

“I've never been married.”

“Oh.”

“Chloe is adopted,” she told him. “I've had her since she was only a few days old. She was born on a Friday, and on Monday morning I walked out the front door of the hospital with her in my arms.” She smiled across the console. “Long story. The short version is, it was love at first sight.”

“I guess it's hard sometimes, raising a child by yourself.”

“Only on days like this when work runs over. Thank God for Trula.”

“It's always good to have a backup,” he agreed. “Who backed you up where you used to live?” Before she could answer, he added, “You have to be new to the area or you wouldn't be living in a hotel, right? Unless your house burned down or something like that.”

“We are new to the area, and we haven't found a permanent place to live yet, so yes, that's why we're still in the hotel.” She nodded. “It isn't too bad, other than the fact that it's Chloe and me in one and a half rooms, not counting the bathroom. There's a pretty good fitness center, which I haven't been able to use as much as I'd thought I would, and an indoor pool, which Chloe and I have used several times. And they do have a pretty good restaurant, so we're able to eat well. Though I'm afraid Chloe is getting spoiled. The chance of me making waffles or pancakes for breakfast every day once we're in a place of our own? Slim to none.”

“Not a cook?”

“Not really. I do okay, but-truthfully-not my thing. Before Chloe, I ate most of my meals on the run. Now I have to make sure we eat healthy and watch the sugar, which means my days of having leftover cake or brownies for breakfast are over.”

“You eat brownies for breakfast?”

“Doesn't everyone?”

He laughed, and she found herself liking the sound of it.

They drove a few miles in silence. Finally, Nick asked, “Are you going to be talking to the parents of the donor kids?”

“I haven't decided yet,” she admitted. “On the one hand, most of these kids are over eighteen, so it's not a legal issue. On the other, if there is something else going on here, the parents should know about it. I'm just not sure they should hear about it from me.”

“That's why I think you need me to set up these appointments, take the lead on contacting these kids.”

“I seem to have missed that connection.”

“Because my niece is the one who's missing. It's a great cover. Besides, I'm starting to grow on you. You like me.”

“Why do I need a cover?” She ignored his attempt at humor.

“Because otherwise you, being an official investigator-a private investigator-could create a panic amongst these kids, who are then unlikely to talk to either of us.”

“Panic might be too strong a word,” she said, “but I suppose some of the kids might feel uneasy if they knew there was a full-scale investigation going on.”

“You said you thought that some of these kids were contacted by the police when they were checking the phone numbers on Belinda's cell phone. As I recall, they all denied knowing her, or said the calls were wrong numbers,” he reminded her. “Which tells me they didn't want to be part of any investigation.”

“Possibly. On the other hand, at least one of these kids thinks you're the reason Belinda is missing.”

When he started to protest, she said, “And remember that you've already contacted these kids via the message board, and no one responded. So I think we're just going to play this by ear. Sometimes I'll take the lead, sometimes you will, but when you make the contacts, I tell you what to say. And I tell you what to type in your emails and I'm on the line when you make those calls. I want to hear exactly what's said and the manner in which they say it. I want to hear the pauses-what's not said as well as what is said.”

“Fair enough.”

“You won't mind working from a script if it comes to that?”

“Hey, I did theater when I was in high school.”

“Really? What plays were you in?”

“I had the title role in Harvey,” he said loftily.

“The title role in Harvey was an invisible rabbit.” She worked unsuccessfully to control the smile that tilted the corners of her mouth. “And had no lines.”

“None that you could hear.”

Emme laughed. “All right. We'll try it your way and see what happens. But if I think we're getting off track, or I don't like the way things are going, I call you off and you don't argue with me.”

“Okay.”

“Okay what?”

“Okay, if you don't like the way it goes, you get to shut it down.”

“And shut you out.”

“Right. You get to shut me out.”

“And you don't argue if that time comes.”

“Right.” His sigh was loaded with reluctance. “I won't argue with you.”

“I call the shots.”