Mariah Stewart - Cry Mercy

His hand still lightly on Emme's arm, he added, “Mrs. Clemente- mamacita to the children-knows every child in the parish. She's sort of our unofficial guardian angel.”

Maria Clemente smiled broadly. “Your daughter is a quick study. She catches on like that.” She snapped her fingers. “Smart as a whip, that one is. And a real charmer.”

Emme was speechless, her brain scrambling for words.

“Mrs. Clemente brings flowers from her garden to church every morning and stays after mass to dust the altar. She noticed Chloe in the playground and asked if perhaps she was of Hispanic origins, thinking perhaps a new family had moved into the neighborhood, that maybe she could assist them in some way to get settled.”

His words swirled around in Emme's brain and she struggled to follow him.

“I told her about you and Chloe.”

“I'd called hola to her one day, thinking perhaps she knew the language. She did not, but she asked what the word meant. The next day, when I was coming from the church, she called to me. ‘Hola, mamacita.’ ” The woman beamed. “Such a smart cookie. She wanted to learn more, to surprise you, she said.”

“Yes,” Emme found her voice. “Yes, I was surprised.”

The smile began to fade from Maria Clemente's face. “Was that all right? Did I presume-”

“No, no, it's fine.” Relief washed over Emme and with it came a deep sense of embarrassment. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Clemente. I appreciate you taking the time to teach her.”

“It's nothing.” The smile returned to the woman's face. “She's a joy to be around.”

“Thank you.” Emme could have cried. “Thank you so much.”

“I'll see you in the morning, Mrs. Clemente,” Kevin told her.

“You will. And you let me know if the Chastians will need flowers for the altar for the funeral on Thursday,” Mrs. Clemente replied. “I have some dahlias that should be open by midweek that are the size of dinner plates. Maybe we can make some arrangements, save the family some money.”

“You're kind to think of others, as always.”

“Goodbye, Chloe's mother. God bless.”

“Goodbye, Mrs. Clemente. It was nice meeting you.”

After she'd walked away, Emme turned to the priest and said, “She seems so… nice.”

“Pillar of the community.” Father Kevin nodded. “Don't know what I'd do without her.”

“Trula called you, didn't she?” Emme's face burned. If Father Kevin hadn't been around, what might she have said to that good woman?

“She did.”

“She told you-”

He nodded. “Pretty much everything. Everything except why the thought of someone teaching your daughter a few harmless phrases in Spanish caused such panic.”

“It wasn't the phrases,” Emme said, torn between telling him the truth and fearing the consequences. “It's… it's okay, Kevin. I apologize for…”

She was clearly struggling.

“Emme, I don't know what made you feel so threatened, or what you are afraid of, but I'm here for you if you want to talk about it.”

“Thank you,” she said, wishing she could unburden herself, but knowing she could not.

He walked her to her car in silence. As she slid behind the wheel, he told her, “If you're in some kind of trouble, maybe we can help.”

She shook her head. “Thank you, but it's something I'm going to have to deal with on my own.”

“You know, there's Robert… he'd be there for you, too.” Before she could speak, he added, “We're an odd little group, Emme, at the Mercy Street Foundation. But we're a family, and from what I can see, you and Chloe are ours now. Families stick together, you know, so if you need…” He sighed. “Whatever you need, we'll all be here if you change your mind.”

Too choked up to even say thank you, Emme merely nodded, and then drove off. When she reached the stop sign at the end of the street, she looked in her rearview mirror. Kevin was still standing in front of the church, watching.

You and Chloe are ours now… His words rang in her ears. Families stick together…

She turned the corner, pulled the car to the curb, covered her face, and wept.

It took her almost an hour to pull herself together. So much had happened over the past few weeks, and she'd had no outlet. She missed Steffie more at that moment than she had since she'd left California. They'd agreed to keep contact to a minimum for a while, knowing that there was a good chance Navarro's people would be watching Steffie, maybe even tapping into her phones or watching her mail. Emme missed her friend's counsel, missed her levelheaded advice, her sense of humor… hell, she missed having a friend. There was no one she could talk to about the mess her life was in at that moment. Trula, maybe, but her loyalties lay with Robert; Mallory, too. Father Kevin's offer of friendship had been genuine, she knew that, but she knew, too, that he had no idea of the secrets she was keeping from everyone. Of course, he was a priest. He could probably handle the shock of finding out that everything she'd told them about herself was a lie. He must have heard a lot worse than even that over the years.

The only honest part of her life right now was the work she was doing for the foundation. She was giving the search for Belinda Hudson her best efforts. She was getting closer to the heart of it-the answer was with Donor 1735, she knew that much-but he was still clouded in mist.

And then there was Nick. He was the one complication she hadn't planned on. All her professional life, she'd made a point of not getting involved with people connected in any way with any case she worked. She'd spent the past four years devoting her time and energy and total focus on Chloe. For most of that time, she'd convinced herself that at this time of her life, she didn't need anyone else. Work and her daughter had been more than enough for her. Now she wasn't so sure.

She wiped her wet face with a tissue she found in her bag and blew her nose.

“No time to feel sorry for you,” she chided herself. “A girl is still missing. There's work to be done.”

She drove through the gates somewhat sheepishly, waving to the security hut without really looking at the man who was stationed there this morning. Having practically blown through the gates on her way out earlier, she was too embarrassed to meet his eyes now. She parked near the side of the house and entered through the front, hoping to slip in without being seen.

She should have known better.

“Are you all right?” Trula was just coming through the front hall when Emme opened the door. “Dear lord, child, the way you fled this morning, you'd have thought demons were at your heels.”

“I'm okay. And I'm sorry.” She could have added, And yes, there were demons at my heels , but that would have required more explanation than she was prepared to give. “I didn't mean to upset anyone. There was just… just something I had to do.”

“Honey, if something is bothering you-oh, hell, clearly something is. Maybe there's something we can do to help.”

Emme started down the hall, not wanting to look back on that kind face. She'd be tempted to spill it all, everything about Chloe's father and about her own deceit. Once they knew-Trula and Robert and Mallory and Kevin-they'd be showing her the door. Falsifying her résumé, getting Steffie to lie and cover for her… what would happen to Steffie if the truth came out? She'd be bounced from her job in a heartbeat. Emme flushed scarlet just thinking of the terrible position she'd put her friend in.

I had to save Chloe , she reminded herself.

“Emme?” Trula stood in the hallway, a worried look on her face. “You know I'd-we'd-help you in any way we could.”