Cry Mercy (6 page)

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Authors: Mariah Stewart

BOOK: Cry Mercy
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“Immediate,” Mal told him.

“Don't we need someone immediately?”

Mallory nodded. “If not sooner.”

“So what's the problem?”

Mallory ticked off each of Emme's moves on her fingers.

“She saw the press conference on TV, went directly to the website, filled out the application, went in to work the next day—she was a cop in California—quit her job, packed her car, and drove east.” She added with emphasis, “With her four-year-old daughter.”

“She's enthusiastic about the foundation—that's good, right?”

“Kev, Mal thinks it means something is not right,” Susanna said. “That she just up and quit her job and drove out here, expecting to be hired.”

“I'm sure you asked her why. What reason did she give?” Kevin asked.

“She said there was a lot of tension between the Mexican and the African-American communities, and since her daughter was half each—she's adopted—Emme thought it would be better if Chloe grew up in an environment that didn't make her take sides against either.”

“I think that's a very rational reason,” Robert said.
“That makes total sense to me, that she'd want to keep her daughter from all that negativity.”

Susanna nodded. “Me, too.”

“Did she appear shady in some way? Inexperienced? Incompetent?” Kevin asked.

“Not at all,” Mallory admitted. “We even discussed one of the cases that had been submitted—strictly as a hypothetical, of course—and I have to admit she had some really impressive ideas about how to approach the investigation. I don't think she's afraid to think independently.”

“I'm assuming you checked her references?” Kevin asked.

“She's only worked with one department, and the chief of police gave her a glowing reference.”

“So she's an experienced, competent, well-qualified applicant with sterling references who can't wait to go to work for us.” Kevin nodded his head thoughtfully. “I can see where she'd seem like a risk, Mal.”

“When you put it like that, it does seem a bit silly.” Mallory sighed.

Kevin turned to Robert.

“What did you think of her?”

“I only saw her for a minute.” Robert shrugged. “She looked okay. Looked like a cop.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Mallory, a nine-year veteran of the local police force, narrowed her eyes.

“You know. She walked with purpose, head up, long stride.” Robert took a bite from a cookie. “Like Trula said, she looks you in the eye when she talks to you. That's all I noticed, though, because I didn't talk to her for more than twenty seconds. Susanna?”

“I thought she was okay, too. I mean, nice, pleasant enough. It's Mallory's call on the qualifications, though,” Susanna said. “Mal's call on the hire. That was the deal.”

Kevin looked at Trula. “You're not going to toss in your two cents?”

“I already did. I said I liked her.”

“Trula liked Emme's little girl,” Susanna confided. “She liked having a kid to boss around in the kitchen.”

“So our applicant is married? Divorced?” Kevin asked.

“Neither. She adopted Chloe as a single mother,” Mallory explained.

“Would calling her back for a second interview be helpful?” Trula asked.

“Maybe.” Mallory pondered the question. “Although I don't know what else I'd ask her. She's willing to apply for a private investigators license, so eventually she'll need some other reference besides the police chief.”

“It's up to you, Mal,” Robert replied. “She'll be working for you.”

“She'll be working for—and with—all of us,” Mallory reminded him. “This is not the Mallory Russo Foundation.”

“Look, we haven't taken on our first case yet, right?” Kevin pointed out. “So do we have to make a final decision right this minute?”

“I guess not this minute, no. But now that you've brought it up”—Mallory reached down to the briefcase that sat open next to her on the bench seat—“here are copies of the three cases I sent to each of
you earlier in the week. I'm assuming you read through them and have some opinion on which one we should choose, since that is the purpose of this meeting.”

She passed the copies around.

“So who wants to start things off?” Mallory looked around the table. She passed the extra copy of the file to Trula, telling the older woman, “I'd like your input as well.”

Obviously pleased to be included in the decision, Trula opened the file and began to read. Robert met Mallory's eyes from across the table and winked his approval.

“Anyone?” Mallory asked.

“They're all worthy cases,” Robert said. “All three have merit. Missing daughter; missing brother; missing niece.”

“I agree.” Kevin placed his open file on the table. “I don't know how we choose one over the other, unless we flip a coin.”

“Would one of these cases be more likely to be resolved than the others?” Susanna wondered aloud.

“I think they'd each have their challenges,” Mallory said, “so I'd have to say probably not.”

“This one about the college girl.” Trula waved the sheet of paper. “How can a girl just disappear from a busy place like a college on a Saturday morning? How could it be that no one saw her?”

“If the police could have answered that, they'd have been well on their way to finding out what happened to her,” Mallory told her. “I'm sure they asked around.”

“Maybe they didn't ask the right people,” Trula grumbled. “She wasn't invisible, was she?”

“Good point.” Robert closed his file. “I vote for that case.”

“I don't know how you pick one over the other, so yeah, I'm okay with that one,” Kevin agreed.

“No argument from me.” Susanna rested her forearms on the tabletop. “Mal? You all right with that?”

“Sure.” Mallory shrugged. “I was intrigued with that one, too. And besides, geographically, it's within driving range. Not that that's going to be the criteria, but since right now we'll only have one investigator, maybe it's not a bad idea to have it somewhat close by. We'll be able to sit down and discuss the case as it plays out. So yes, let's do it.”

“So what happens now? You're going to notify the uncle—this Nicolas Perone who submitted the case—and let him know you're going to be working his case?” Kevin asked.

“I'd love to work this case.” Mallory frowned. “Unfortunately, there are a number of other applicants to interview and about another hundred cases to wade through.”

“How can so many people just disappear into thin air like that? Where do they all
go
?” Kevin wondered. Realizing what he'd said, he turned to Robert. “Hey, Rob, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking…”

His cousin shrugged it off. “It's a fair enough question. The number of people who go missing every year is staggering. Beth, Ian … just two among many. All these others—they're missed, loved, too. Let's do our best to see if we can find a few of them.”

The group fell silent for a moment, acknowledging
Robert's pain. His loss had been the seed from which the foundation had sprouted. Mallory knew that he was hoping to do for others what he'd been unable to do for himself.

“So maybe you should call Emme back for another interview and decide. If you want to get this thing up and moving, you don't have time to dither,” Trula told her.

“I'm not dithering, I'm just being cautious.” Mallory looked around the table at her companions, an odd collection of loners who, in a very short period of time, had become a family of sorts. She understood that whomever they hired would become part of that family: she would have to consider personalities as well as qualifications in filling every position for the foundation. She took the responsibility very seriously.

“Here's an idea,” Kevin said as he poured a second cup of coffee for himself. He held up the pot, offering to pour for the others. Only Susanna pushed her cup forward. “Hire this person on a trial basis. Tell her she has six weeks or till the end of the case—whichever comes first—to prove herself. In the meantime, you'll be interviewing other applicants. If she doesn't pan out, at least you'll have some others in the queue.”

Mallory nodded. “All right. I'll call her and see if she can come in tomorrow morning to go over the case with me. I think the first step would be to talk to the cops who handled the case originally, and maybe meet with the uncle and get his take on things.”

“She's been a cop for seven years,” Trula noted dryly, “she can probably figure out where to start. But
she may need a little help figuring out what to do with that girl of hers.”

“You're not going to offer to babysit, are you?” Robert raised an eyebrow.

“Not that I wouldn't if need be. Chloe's a bright, cheerful little thing. Well-mannered, polite. Seems like a happy little girl,” Trula told him. “But she was saying this afternoon that she missed her friends at school, so I'm thinking Emme might need a hand finding a good preschool for Chloe in a hurry.”

“We have a wonderful preschool program at Our Lady of Angels,” Kevin said. “And—what a stroke of luck—you have an in with the guy who ultimately is responsible for the place.”

“That's exactly what I was thinking.” Trula smiled.

“Emme might want to make that decision on her own,” Mallory pointed out, “but it's certainly a terrific option and one I'd be happy to pass on to her.”

Mallory closed her briefcase and snapped it shut. “I'll give her a call from the car. So if there's nothing else …?”

“Hot date tonight?” Susanna asked.

“You betcha.” Mallory grinned. “The Conroy PD and Fire Company combined softball team is playing West Lincoln under the lights at the park out on Old-field Road. I might even be able to catch the first pitch.”

“I suppose Detective Wanamaker is in the lineup?” Kevin asked.

“Charlie's pitching.” Mallory stood and stretched. “He's been working a case for the past week so we haven't had much time together. And with everything
we have going on here, this might be as good as it gets for a while.”

She grabbed her bag and the briefcase and headed for the door. “I'll see you all in the morning, with or without Emme Caldwell.”

Emme glanced out the window at the perfectly manicured grounds of the Magellan estate and fought an urge to pinch herself. The view was beautiful, the gardens spacious and gloriously in bloom. Beyond the garden was a cattail-ringed pond where fat ducks dove beneath the water only to resurface to float in the sun. It was so much more like a dream than any dream she'd ever had, it was hard to believe it was real. Had she really been chosen as the first hire of the Mercy Street Foundation?

Okay, provisional hire, she reminded herself, but she knew she could do this job. She'd been reading over the file on the case Mallory had handed her when she arrived that morning, and already she'd made some notes on how she wanted to proceed. She would discuss it with Mallory, of course, Mallory being her immediate boss, or so it appeared. She wasn't sure just what everyone else's role was in this, but she'd figure it out.

She sat back in the new leather chair and took stock of her office, with its wide wooden desk and walls lined with handsome walnut bookcases and matching file cabinets—all empty, of course. She hoped she'd be around to fill them. Robert Magellan was obviously a man who didn't hesitate to spend money, the fact borne out by the generous starting salary they'd offered. If she made the cut, the benefits
would be great, every bit as good as what she'd had in California. But what had made Emme happiest was the consideration that had been given to her daughter.

“Chloe mentioned to Trula that she missed being in school,” Mallory said when she'd called with the offer the night before. “Father Kevin wanted us to let you know that Our Lady of Angels, his parish school, has an excellent all-day preschool program that runs year-round. If you'd like, she can start as early as tomorrow. Of course, if you've made other arrangements, or if you'd prefer a secular school, or you'd like to look around on your own—”

“No, no, I haven't had time to make any arrangements,” a stunned Emme had replied. She was still getting over the surprise of having the job offered to her so soon. “Chloe was in a full-day school back in California, and she really loved it, which was a blessing to a working mom. I'd sure she'd love to check out Our Lady of Angels. How nice of Father Kevin to think of it.”

“I'll give you his number so you can call him and let him know what time you'll be in with Chloe. If you decide not to start her until Monday, she can stay with Trula today and Friday while you work. Unless you have other babysitting arrangements …”

“No, I …” Emme's throat constricted with emotion. “I can't thank you all enough, but Trula doesn't have to watch her. I'm sure that babysitting isn't in her job description.”

“Trula's job description is whatever Trula feels like doing on any given day.” Mallory laughed. “You'll find that she rules the roost here, with Robert's blessing.
If she didn't enjoy your daughter's company, believe me, she'd never volunteer. So if she says bring Chloe in when you need to, I say bring her in.”

“That's so kind of her.”

“She definitely has her moments.”

“I'll call Father Kevin and find out what time school starts in the morning. I'm sure Chloe is going to want to go. She's been lonely without her friends.”

Chloe had been so excited at the prospect of going to school she was barely able to sleep and was up with the sun, urging Emme out of bed and chatting about what she should wear—“Do you think I should take my smock? Do you think there will be painting today?”—and whether she should bring her own crayons.

“Maybe I'll make new friends,” Chloe whispered hopefully as she dropped out of the backseat and landed on her sneakered feet in the church parking lot.

“I'm sure you'll make lots of new friends,” Emme had assured her. She took Chloe's hand and followed the concrete walk to the side door of the parish hall, just as Father Kevin had told her to do. She'd been about to ring the bell when the door opened and a tall, dark-haired woman greeted her warmly.

“I'm Mary Corcoran,” the smiling woman said. “Father Kevin is a little tied up right now, so he asked me to welcome you and to walk you over to the classroom. What do you think, Chloe, does that sound like a good idea to you?”

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