Mariah Stewart - Cry Mercy

The scene was almost painful for him to watch. He hadn't seen that much pleasure on the woman's face since she'd held his son in her arms. Ian had brought her-had brought all of them-great joy.

He rested his forehead against the glass and squeezed his eyes shut even as the vise inside squeezed his heart. Lately he'd been trying to convince himself that he'd need to face the facts sooner or later. In his heart he knew that Beth was gone from this world, but he could not bring himself to speak it aloud. No woman would stay away from her home this long… especially a woman like Beth, who had loved everything about her life, loved being the wife of one of the wealthiest men in the country. He hated thinking of her like that, but there it was. Not that she hadn't loved him-he believed with all his heart that she had, that they'd loved each other. It was just that, well, she loved being the wife of a mogul and all that entitled her to. She'd loved the big house, the magnificent grounds, the cars, the jewelry, the trips, the designer clothes. He couldn't blame her for that. It was just a part of who she is.

Who she had been, he corrected himself. She wasn't anymore. He was pretty sure of that.

Over the past few months, even her memory had become more and more distant, her voice not so clear or so often in his head, her face harder and harder to pull up in the dead of night. Some days he couldn't remember what her laugh had sounded like, and it saddened him. It saddened him, too, to know that one day he might even move on. One day, maybe there'd be someone else…

But Ian… Robert would never get over losing his son. Not ever. Not if he had ten sons-a hundred sons-would he forget his firstborn. Ian would remain an open wound on his heart for as long as he drew breath.

Funny, he had trouble recalling things about Beth, but he could remember every smile, every baby laugh, every giggle, every one of Ian's firsts. None of that had dimmed in the least for him. He could even feel the way those tiny fingers had gripped on to his.

He opened his eyes to see Trula emerge from the pool, and smiled in spite of himself at Chloe's rush to bring her a towel. It made him happy to see Trula happy, to see her enjoy this child so, to know that her love for that little girl was so freely, so openly returned. He gave silent thanks to Emme Caldwell for having answered the Mercy Street Foundation's call for investigators as quickly as she had. Without realizing it, she'd brought life back into Robert's world, which Kevin had once referred to as the Dead Zone, and he, Robert, would always be grateful.

Well, you hardly look rested.” Trula watched Emme come in through the back door and head for the coffeemaker. “Did you forget that weekends are for taking it easy?”

“I took it easy.” Emme yawned and reached for a red mug that had Commit Random Acts of Kindness printed in white letters on one side.

“How did your house-hunt go this weekend?” Susanna blew into the kitchen the way she always did, smiling and light as a summer breeze. “Any luck?”

She looked over the selection of mugs Trula had set out that morning and settled on Send lawyers, guns, and money .

“I did see one place I liked, but it didn't have much of a yard,” Emme said. “How ′bout you? How was your weekend?”

“Oh, you know. same old, same old.” She poured her coffee carefully into the tall, narrow mug. “Not nearly as exciting as looking for a new home.”

“We spent all day yesterday going from house to house. Chloe's thinking she might need to have a dog one of these days, and a swing set. The one place I liked didn't have much room for either.”

“So you're going to keep on looking?” Susanna asked, as she opened the refrigerator looking for the half-and-half.

“Already out,” Trula told her. “Over on the counter.”

“Any closer and it would have bitten me,” Susanna muttered. To Emme she said, “So I'm assuming you find Conroy to your liking and you plan to stick around for a while.”

Before Emme could answer, Trula interjected, “Of course, she's staying in Conroy.”

“I do want to stay here. I thought I'd start looking now for a house because maybe I'll have found a place by the time my probationary period is over, and if I make the cut, I'll be in a position to buy something.” Emme added sweetener to her cup. “I really do like the area, and Chloe is so happy in her new school with her new friends.”

“Mrs. McHugh is an excellent teacher,” Trula agreed. “And there are a lot of really nice families in Kevin's parish.”

“It's a godsend to working mothers like me that the school runs all year round, and I think it's really cool that Mrs. McHugh is teaching the kids Spanish. It's a really useful language.”

“I agree, but Mrs. McHugh isn't teaching the kids Spanish,” Trula said.

Emme frowned. “I thought Chloe said she was learning all those Spanish words and phrases at school.”

“At school, maybe, but not in school.” Trula began to rinse off her breakfast dishes. “She told me that the lady on the playground has been teaching her.”

“What lady on the playground?” Emme blanched and set her cup unsteadily on the counter. “What lady on the playground?”

Surprised at the alarm in Emme's voice, Trula turned around to face her. “She said there's a woman who talks to her on the playground. I'm thinking it may be one of Kevin's Hispanic parishioners, because Chloe said the woman was dark, like her, and that she comes everyday and that she-”

Emme grabbed her bag and left the kitchen almost at a sprint, her car keys in her hand. Through the window, Trula and Susanna watched as she ran to her car, passing Mallory without greeting. Within seconds, the small sedan was making a squealing turn in the driveway and headed out the gate.

Mallory came through the back door, which Emme had left open, with a puzzled look on her face.

“What was that all about?” she asked. “Emme acted as if she didn't even see me.”

Trula shrugged. “We were talking about Chloe learning some Spanish words and phrases from a woman who shows up at the playground at school, and next thing we know, Emme's out of here on two wheels.”

She went to the wall phone and lifted the receiver. “I think I'd better give Kevin a heads up. I'd bet my last dime she's headed for Our Lady of Angels.”

Her heart pounding, Emme drove to the school in half the time it normally took.

Had she been found out? Had her movements since she left California somehow been traced? The combination of a mother's fear and an overactive imagination had her assuming the worst by the time she pulled up in front of the church and school. She all but ran to the playground-empty of children this time of the morning, but there, there at the fence…

A woman stood gazing into the playground as if waiting for someone.

Emme broke into a run.

She was halfway across the playground when she heard someone calling her name.

“Emme! Emme, wait!”

Without slowing down, she looked back over her shoulder to see Father Kevin running after her. Thank God , she thought. He'd help her…

“Emme, hold up,” he called.

“Kevin, I'm so happy to see you, you have no idea.” She leaned forward slightly, her hands resting on her thighs, her breath coming in gulps. She'd been unaware of how out of shape she was after a few weeks of inactivity.

He took her gently by the arm and led her in the direction of the fence. “There's someone I want you to meet.”

“Kevin, this woman…” Emme grasped his arm. “She's…”

“Maria Clemente. She's been a member of Our Lady of Angels parish for more years than I have.” He continued to walk at an even pace, forcing Emme to slow down as well. “Mrs. Clemente, I'd like you to meet Emme Caldwell. She's the mother of your new friend, Chloe. I believe she's come to thank you for teaching her daughter and the other children a few words and phrases in Spanish.”