Mariah Stewart - Cry Mercy

“That was very kind of her.” Emme smiled.

“She spoke very highly of you.” Mallory put down the paper she'd been scanning and looked Emme directly in the eye. “Very highly.”

“I appreciate that. What else can I tell you about myself to convince you to hire me?”

“You can tell me why you pulled up stakes to move from California to Pennsylvania just like that.” Mallory snapped her fingers.

“I told you on the phone, I saw the press conference. I'd been looking for months to make a move; it just seemed like the right thing to do.” Emme fought to keep her nerves from making her voice sound shaky. Was it her imagination, or was Mallory suspicious of her motives? Better make it good , she cautioned herself, sensing that her future employment-or lack thereof-could depend on what she said at this moment.

“I mentioned there was a lot of drug trafficking in Silver Hills. Over the past year, there have been several shootings in town involving rival gangs. I have a daughter who is four, Ms. Russo. Her father was Mexican, her mother African American. She is just starting to become aware of the animosity, the name-calling between the two factions. I'd like her to grow up in a different atmosphere, to learn to respect her heritage on both sides.”

“I see.” Mallory nodded slowly. “She's adopted?”

“Was it the red hair, the green eyes, the pale skin, or the ‘map of Ireland’ on my face that gave it away?” Her hair wasn't so much red anymore as auburn and she couldn't be certain of an Irish heritage, but everyone seemed to comment on it, so she supposed there might be something to it.

“We can go with all of the above.” Mallory smiled with some warmth for the first time since she'd sat down. “I can understand wanting to raise your daughter in a different environment. But why Conroy?”

“Truthfully, when I looked it up on the computer, using Magellan Express, of course”-Mallory laughed-“I saw a town that looked like a place I wish I'd grown up in. I couldn't fill the application out fast enough. And once I did, once I'd hit send, I just felt as if… I don't know, I don't want to sound silly, but I just felt as if this was where we were meant to be.”

“I see.” Mallory played with her pen. “Since you watched the press conference and you went to the website, I'm assuming you read more than the application?”

Emme nodded.

“Then you know that we're going to be taking on some pretty complicated cases, cases that have grown cold because the investigating departments weren't able to solve them. So we're talking about the tough cases, the ones where we will be looking for information that others have overlooked. We'll need instincts that are spot on-not every time, maybe, no one's right one hundred percent of the time, but you're going to have to have a strong track record. We'll need the best skills, the ability to think outside the box. For much of the time, you'll be working alone, because until we get up to snuff with hiring-and that isn't going to happen overnight-there won't be anyone to partner with you.”

“I don't mind working alone.”

Mallory patted a stack of fat files that towered on one side of her desk.

“These are the submissions we've received in the past week, requests for help from over six hundred people. I expect that will increase as time goes on.” She picked up one folder and opened it in front of her. “Here's a case where a woman has been missing for nine years.”

Mallory held up a second folder. “This next one, a young boy who went missing when he was seven.”

Another. “This one? A father of five who left home one morning for work and was never seen or heard from again.”

Mallory met Emme's eyes across the desk. “These are the kinds of cases you'd be dealing with.”

She slid a stack of files across the desk to Emme.

“Pick one at random,” Mallory told her, “and tell me how you'd handle it.”

Ninety minutes later, they were still discussing the case, Mallory making notes without comment. They were both so engrossed that neither looked up when the door opened and Susanna walked in.

“Mal, I-Oh. Sorry.” Susanna paused in midstride. “I didn't realize you were still-”

“It's okay, Suse, come in and meet Emme Caldwell.” Mallory looked up from her notes. “We're just doing some hypothetical case analysis.”

Emme turned as the tall dark-haired woman came toward her.

“Good to meet you,” Susanna said as Emme took her outstretched hand. “If I'm not mistaken, you're our first interviewee.”

“She is.” Mallory nodded.

“I apologize for interrupting, but there is the most incredible aroma wafting from the kitchen, and I had to follow my nose to see what Trula was up to,” Susanna explained. “I was thinking it might be a good time to take a break but I see you're still busy…”

“Actually, I think we're done here.” Mallory pushed her chair back and rose. “Not because Trula is baking, mind you,” she made a point of telling Emme, “but because I think I have enough information for the time being.”

“Are there any other questions about my experience I might answer?” Emme asked, concerned by Mallory's sudden dismissal.

“No, I think I have what I need. I have the entire personnel file from Silver Hill, and that has your transcripts and your performance reviews. Thanks for coming in. It was a pleasure to have met you.” Mallory walked around the desk to shake Emme's hand.

“So, what happens next?” Emme tried not to appear less than self-confident.

“You'll hear from me once a decision has been made.”

“I see.” Emme leaned down to pick up her bag, which she'd dropped on the floor when she first took her seat. “Let me give you the number at the hotel and our room number.”

“Don't you have a cell phone?” Mallory asked.

“I did. I lost it somewhere between Indiana and Pennsylvania.” On purpose, because cell phones can be traced. She'd pick up another throwaway as soon as possible. She'd used most of her prepaid minutes talking to Steffie and the rest of them when she called Mallory. “You don't realize how much you depend on those things until you don't have one. I'll be getting a replacement.”

“Well, if we bring you on, we'll give you one. Of course, you might want to have your own before then.”

“Yes. Well, then. I suppose we're finished. Thank you so much for seeing me on short notice. I hope it wasn't an imposition, Ms. Russo.”

“Not at all. I'm glad you came in.” Mallory walked to the door and stood there like a sentinel.

“How would I find Trula?” Emme asked.

“You've already met Trula?”

“She met us at the door when I arrived, and took Chloe-my daughter-to the kitchen.” Emme felt a bit of color tinge her cheeks. “I'm sorry, I didn't have anyone to watch her and I couldn't leave her alone in the hotel. I thought I'd leave her in the hall with some of her things to amuse her.” Emme held up the bag. “Crayons, coloring book. But Trula met us at the door and sort of swooped up Chloe…”

“No need to apologize,” Mallory told her. “Trula's swooped up all of us at one time or another. I'm sure she was delighted to have Chloe's company.”

“Ahhh, then we have you to thank for what I'm sure must be a wonderful afternoon snack.” Susanna grinned. “Well, come along with me, Ms. Caldwell, and we'll track down that child of yours and see just what she and Trula managed to cook up in the time you've been here.”

Susanna ushered Emme into the hall, then looked over her shoulder. “Coming, Mallory?”

“I'll be down in a while. Save me some of whatever it is.”

“No promises,” Susanna called back over her shoulder. To Emme, she said, “I suppose you think we're all very loose around here.”