Mariah Stewart - Cry Mercy

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After Ann Nolan, a California beat cop, adopts the daughter of a notorious drug dealer, the ruthless father vows to take back his only child. In response, Ann flees across the country, changes her name, and starts a new life as an investigator for the Mercy Street Foundation, the billionaire-endowed organization dedicated to finding missing persons. As Emme Caldwell, she takes the lead on the Foundation's first case: Nineteen-year-old Belinda Hudson disappeared from her sorority house leaving behind only one cryptic clue. Retracing the vanished student's steps leads Emme to Heaven's Gate, a fertility clinic, and the mysterious Donor 1735.
Belinda's legal guardian, Nick Perone, is determined to shadow Emme's every move as she searches for his niece. But the closer Emme gets to Donor 1735 and the chilling truth, the more apparent it becomes that she's escaped one dangerous man only to run head-on into another-one who's far more determined and every bit as deadly.

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What would Beth have done under these circumstances?

Might she have decided not to wait patiently for the police to direct the cars off the turnpike? To Suse's way of thinking, she'd have driven on the shoulder of the road and slipped off the turnpike exit as quickly as she could. With no signs to direct her, perhaps Beth might have done what Suse could see herself doing under the same circumstances: she'd have asked the person in the tollbooth. There was a good chance she'd have been directed to the main road, and hopefully that would take her around the mountain.

The main road off this stretch of highway was a two-lane affair that went through one small town after another, and at first glance might have appeared to be the most logical, took her down the mountain, not up. There were signs that pointed toward this town or that, one state or county road or another, but for a stranger, the signs meant nothing. The last time Susanna had followed this same road, she'd taken the route that led her down the mountain. Today, she'd go in the opposite direction, and see where that would lead.

It wasn't long before she noticed that the road narrowed around those hairpin turns, and that some of the guard rails at several of the turns bore numerous scrapes, battle scars from vehicles that may not have fared quite so well as she had so far. She had to slam on the brakes several times to take the turns on all four wheels, and on more than one occasion, opposing traffic had caused her to hug the right side of the road a lot closer than was comfortable. On an icy road, drivers could find themselves one misstep from disaster.

The sudden blast from the horn of the SUV behind her startled her and caused her to jump, and she swerved even closer to the guard rail. The driver of the SUV was right up to her rear fender and made no effort to back off. As she rounded the curve, her foot on the brake, she saw a driveway up ahead on the right, and she practically slid into it to get out of the SUV's way. The driver laid on the horn as he passed her, his middle finger in the air, and she watched him disappear down the next hill at a speed she couldn't even imagine on a road like this.

That's how it happens, she thought as she caught her breath. That's how cars get pushed off the road. If this had been winter, any accumulation of snow or ice on these roads would have been deadly.

And then she recalled that Beth and Ian had disappeared in the dead of winter.

She checked her rearview mirror for oncoming cars, then drove back onto the roadway. Several hundred yards ahead was a slight clearing. She pulled over and parked. She stuffed her bag under the front seat and locked the door after she got out. She walked back to the curve where the SUV had crowded her and studied the metal guard rail. It was dented and bore the scrapes of many a passing car. She stepped over it and walked downhill a short distance. The bottom of the ravine was littered with old tires and plastic trash bags holding God knew what. From somewhere below she could hear the sound of a stream, but there was little else to break the silence.

It would have been a place like this where Beth went off the road, she thought, only higher up the mountain, maybe. Someplace where a car could go over and be hidden from view by trees or thick undergrowth that even in February would prevent it from being seen from the road.

She walked back to her car, knowing she was right, in theory. All she had to do now was find the right road, on the right mountain.

Three hours later, she stood behind a guard rail that did its best to wrap around an exceptionally narrow turn. On the opposite side of the road, a huge piece of rock jutted out from the side of the mountain and hung partially over the left lane. A driver coming uphill in the right lane, unfamiliar with the configuration, might well overcompensate if a vehicle was coming too quickly from the left. Susanna found a safe place to park and again set out to explore, the fourth or fifth time she'd done so that day.

Since she had been following possible routes Beth might have taken, Susanna assumed that Beth would have approached this particular curve on the right side. She walked along the road and climbed over the barrier, noting that there was ample room at the end of the guard rail for a car to slip between it and a tree that had apparently not only stood witness to a number of accidents, but had itself been a victim on numerous occasions.

“Everything from a Mini Cooper to one of those big mean pickups must have bounced off you,” she said, taking note that the gashes on the trunk were of varying heights.

She stepped around the tree and looked down. The hill dropped off sharply and the trees grew in dense clusters, their branches and leaves forming a green wall. Now, in the summer, the foliage could hide just about anything down there. In midwinter when the trees were bare, however, she was pretty certain any car that might have gone over on this side of the road would have been visible. She started back to her car, then on a hunch, walked across the road and stepped over the guard rail, which was much lower on this side of the road.

“Oh, come on, Beth,” she said aloud. “You could help me out here.”

She stood at the top of the incline and studied the topography. Beneath her feet was solid rock, and looking down the mountainside, there were mostly rocks below for maybe fifty yards. Beyond the rocks an overgrowth of shrubs disappeared over a ledge. Susanna crossed the road to the place where the curve began, and thought back to the impatient SUV that had come up behind her earlier and startled her with a loud blast of its horn. What if she'd been driving into a curve like this one, on so narrow a road, and had been surprised by such a blast. Would she have swerved to the right, or to the left? If to the right, she'd have bounced off that tree, wouldn't she? But if she'd swerved to the left…

If she'd swerved to the left, might she have gone into the curve in the opposing lane? And if she had, she'd have looked up to see that rocky overhang right there. If she'd tried to overcompensate, if she'd hit ice… what might have happened to the Jeep? Might it have scraped through between the rock and the railing?

She stepped over the rail and made her way down the rock as far as the ledge and looked over. She almost missed it, but the sunlight bleeding through the clouds caught on something down below and sent a beam back up through the trees.

It could be nothing, she told herself as she made her way around the rocks and down into the ravine, or it could be chrome, or a mirror. She made her way down as far as she could safely go, but it wasn't necessary for her to go any farther. Through the thick growth she could see the back quarter panel of a brown vehicle, and she knew.

Susanna's heart all but stopped in her chest. She was torn between going down there, to the Jeep, and running back up for her phone to call for help. She took two steps down and three steps back. For as many times as she'd made the trip in search of this place, now that she was here, she was barely able to think. Most likely Beth and Ian were in that car, and if they were, they were dead. Should she know this before she called for help?

She eased her way down to the Jeep. It had apparently come straight down the mountainside until it smashed nosefirst into a rock that had held it in place for more than two years on the far side of the ledge. Suse crept forward sadly, her heart in her mouth. Robert's family had been found, after all this time, and now she'd have to tell him. The thought made her sick.

Almost against her will, she peered inside. Stunned, she blinked, not certain that her eyes weren't playing tricks on her. She cleared dross off the window with the front of her T-shirt and looked again.

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