Authors: Mariah Stewart
Emme nodded and he selected the entry.
“That took out quite a few. Next?”
“Birth date. August first, 1961.”
He entered the date and sat back and waited. After a moment, he leaned back, smiled broadly, and said, “I believe this could be your man.”
Emme exhaled, barely believing it. Donor 1735 had a name.
John Jennings Gardner.
“Now, we'll see where our Mr. Gardner is these days…” Robert tapped into the search engine that bore his name. Data flickered onto the screen. “Uh-oh.”
“What?” Emme drew closer. “Couldn't you find him?”
“Oh, we found him all right.” Robert moved away from the screen so she could read for herself.
John Jennings Gardner, state congressman from the state of Maryland.
“Wait, didn't he just—” Wide-eyed, Emme pointed at the screen.
“Announce that he was running for the U.S. Senate?” Robert nodded. “Yeah. That would be him.”
“Let's see what else we can find out about him.” A few more strokes of the keys and Robert had pulled up Gardner's bio.
“He went to Mount Penn law school,” Emme read over her boss's shoulder. “That fits like a glove.”
“Mount Penn's about an hour from here,” Robert noted.
“And it's about twenty minutes from Heaven's Gate, the fertility clinic,” she told him. “Looks like we have our man.”
“Damn good reason not to want a passel of children coming out of the woodwork to claim your DNA.” Emme called Nick's shop to give him the news. “I imagine it could prove embarrassing if the press got hold of that story.”
“Yeah, puts him in an awkward position,” Nick had snapped angrily. “Do I acknowledge them? Do I try to ignore them? Seems to me whatever he does, it's going to prove to be a distraction during his campaign.” He paused, then added, “Unless, of course, he got rid of the distraction. Permanently.”
“Don't jump to conclusions, Nick. We don't know if Belinda ever contacted him, or that he even knew about any of these kids.”
“So let's go ask him. Point blank.”
“Let's find out where he is first, then we'll make an appointment, then we'll—”
“No. First we find out where he is, then we show up.”
“Let me give some thought to the right way to go about this. I'll get back to you.”
She was still holding the phone in her hand, debating
the best way to approach John Gardner, when Robert strolled into her office.
“You get in touch with Gardner yet?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I have the numbers of his local office and his office in Annapolis.”
“Forget the Annapolis office,” he told her. “It's summer. No one's going to be there now.”
“Good call.”
“I'm trying to decide the best way to go about this, the best way to get in touch with him.”
Robert reached past her for her desk phone and hit two numbers. “Suse, call Maryland state congressman John Gardner and tell him I'd like him to meet with a few of my people as soon as possible. No, don't give any reason. Just that I'd appreciate it if he could clear his schedule, as soon as he can swing it.” He hung up the phone and sat in one of the wing chairs facing her desk. “She'll let us know. So, Emme, how do you like Conroy so far?”
“I … it's fine. Great.” She nodded, surprised at his intervention. From what she'd seen so far, except for putting his computer skills to work, he hadn't seemed too engaged in the foundation.
“Chloe seems like a really happy kid,” he went on. “She's really something. You never know what she's going to say.”
Dear God, what has she said?
Emme went cold inside.
She must have gone white because Robert immediately said, “Oh, nothing bad. Just funny stuff. And we all know that Trula adores her. I haven't seen her have this much fun since … well, not in a long time.”
A shadow crossed his face and Emme suspected
that he was thinking of the joy his own child must have brought Trula.
Her phone rang and he answered it. “Great. I'll tell Emme. I'm sure she can make it. Thanks, Suse.”
He handed her the phone to hang up, and said, “One of the good things about having an easily recognizable name is that when you call people, they usually respond.”
“She found him?”
“He's at his summer home on the Eastern shore. He'll see you at ten tomorrow morning. Stop by Susanna's office and get his address and the directions.” He slapped a hand on her desktop before rising from the chair, a smile on his face. “Good luck. I hope this leads to the break you've been looking for.”
“So do you know what you're going to ask Congressman Gardner?” Nick asked.
“I'm working on it.” Curled up on the love seat in the sitting area of her hotel room, Emme juggled the phone with the remote for the TV. “I know what I want to ask. I just want to be sure to approach him in a way that will give us the answers we need.”
She channel surfed through the cable news stations and settled on her favorite talking head. It was the top of the hour, and the day's headlines were being read.
“On the one hand, I think we need to go slow and easy and build into it, and on the other, I'm thinking we need to go the direct route, hit him with it right up front. Then we—” She stopped, her attention drawn to the newscast. Uncertain of what she'd just heard, she increased the volume.
“Then we what?” Nick was asking. When she didn't answer, he repeated, “Emme, then we what—”
“Oh, dear God in heaven.” In a flash, she was on her feet, standing directly in front of the TV screen. “Dear God, no.”
“Emme, what's wrong?” She heard the alarm in his voice, but was powerless to respond. “What's happening, baby? What's wrong? Is it Chloe?”
“It's …” She felt as if she were underwater, struggling to breath. “Turn on your television. Carolyn Craft's show.”
“… investigators say they have no suspects in the shooting death of Henry Carroll-Wilson, whose body was found in a dumpster in a rest area off Route 213, and the disappearance of his sister, Lori Carroll-Wilson. Anyone having any information is asked to call …”
“Henry.” She gasped. “Henry's dead. And Lori … dear lord …”
“Are they saying when they think this happened?” Nick was asking. “Emme, come on. Get a grip. Did they say when this happened?”
“They're saying that they haven't been seen since Saturday morning.” She repeated to him what the newscaster was saying. “Henry lived with his girlfriend in Hartford … Lori staying in New Haven with a roommate over the summer, working at a restaurant … the roommate said Henry picked up his sister very early on Saturday morning … she's saying it was around 6
A.M
. The roommate was leaving for a weekend at the Cape, so she isn't aware of when—or if—Lori ever came back to the apartment. The investigation is continuing.”
“Did they say if this is a suspected carjacking, some random shooting, what?”
“They don't know. They did find blood on the ground near a car that matches the description that Henry's girlfriend gave the police, but the tags are off it. And now they've moved on to another story.” Emme sat on the sofa and opened her laptop. “Let me see what's on the wires.”
“Are you still there?” Nick asked after a few quiet moments passed.
“Yes, I thought maybe I could find some more detailed information online but there really isn't much yet.” She closed her laptop and blew out a long breath. “This is just crazy. Henry dead and Lori gone. First Belinda, now these two … I don't like what I'm thinking, Nick.”
“I don't like what I'm thinking, either. What are we going to do about it?”
“Let's take this one step at a time. The first thing I'm going to do is call the detective who's investigating Henry's murder. I'll tell him about the meeting we were supposed to have on Saturday and I'm going to tell him why. I'm also going to tell him about Belinda. Then tomorrow, we're going to keep our appointment with Congressman Gardner. After that, well, we'll just have to see where it all takes us.”
W
hat's got you all pissy this morning?” Nick strapped himself into the passenger seat of Emme's car after having tried to plant one on her when he first got in.
“Detective Lou Stafford, that's what's got me pissy. Your door's not closed.” She pointed to the light on her dash.
Nick opened and reclosed the door. “So what's his problem?”
“I called him and told him everything.” She pulled into traffic and headed for the highway. “I mean everything. From Belinda trying to find Donor 1735, then going missing in January, to our planning a meeting with Henry and Lori on Saturday and their unexpected car trouble and their canceling out on us.”
“Okay, and he said—”
“He said he thought it was highly unlikely that the two cases were related because there was so much time between them. That it's probably a coincidence that Belinda disappeared and then months later one of her donor siblings was murdered and another—also a young girl—has gone missing. And besides, he
said they're looking at the case in two ways. One, Lori could have killed Henry for some as yet unknown reason…” She glanced over and saw the look of skepticism cross his face. “Yeah, that's what I thought, too. I asked him how she would have made her getaway, if the car was there at the scene. His answer for that was theory number two, which involves a guy Lori recently broke up with.”
“A recent ex is usually the first person you look for, right?”
“True.”
“So this thing with Belinda, with the donor sibs, that could just be a coincidence,” Nick pointed out. “Stranger things have happened.”
“I'm not feeling it that way.”
“You psychic?”
“No. Just … smart. Yes, there is a possibility that this ex of Lori's shot and killed Henry and abducted her. As far as this whole other scenario is concerned, well, let's just say that I was a cop for too long to put much stock in coincidences. Do they happen sometimes?” She nodded. “Yeah. Sometimes. This just doesn't seem like one of those times.”
“But if you were handling the case, you'd look at the ex-boyfriend.”
“Yes, I would certainly want to know where he was all weekend,” she conceded.
“Okay, so like you said last night, we're going to take this one step at a time. You did what you had to do, you gave the detective the information that you had. If he doesn't know what to do with it, or thinks it isn't worth following up, that's out of your hands.”
Nick played with the radio dial, looking for music he liked.
“I guess,” she grumbled, and Nick laughed in spite of the topic. “I just want to get to the bottom of this before something else happens.”
He leaned to his left as far as the seat belt would permit, and rested his elbow on the top of her seat. “And then what?”
She glanced at him sideways.
“Then what happens, Em? You're staying in Conroy, right?”
“As long as I pass the probationary period, yes.” She kept her eyes on the road, not wanting to meet his.
“I'll still be in Maryland.”
“And?”
“And … just saying, we'll still be close enough to see each other.” He hastened to add, “If you still want to see me, that is.”
“What brought this up?” She stopped at a red light and turned to study his face. His expression was unreadable.
“I was just thinking, as tough as it's been losing Belinda, meeting you has been … well, it's been a really good thing.” His fingers touched her shoulder and lingered on the collar of her white shirt. “I'm glad you left California. I'm glad you came east. I'm glad you were the one who took Belinda's case.”
“I'm glad too, Nick.”
“Good.” He smiled and pointed to the light that had turned green. “Drive.”
They crossed the bridge to the Eastern shore of Maryland and sped onto the highway toward
Ballard, home of the congressman who would be senator—and possibly the biological father of an unknown number of offspring.
“So I'm just saying that when this is over, I still want to see you.” He put it out there like a summation.
“I would still want to see you, too.”
“Of course, you're going to see me, anyway. I'm going to find your boss that Aston-Martin if it's the last thing I do.”
Before she could respond, her phone rang.
“Caldwell,” she said, realizing that for once she hadn't been tempted to identify herself as Nolan.
“Whoa, calm down, Hayley. I can't understand what you're saying … yes, I heard about Henry and Lori. I spoke with the detective who—”
She fell silent, and in the next second, she felt the color drain from her face. She flicked on her right-turn signal and pulled over onto the shoulder of the road.
“Say that again … when did this happen? Are you sure? Her mother is certain? Hayley, you have to tell your mother everything you've told me. Tell her about Belle, and tell her about Henry and Lori. She can call me if she needs to, but right now, she needs to know this. No, honey, I don't know what it means. But don't go anywhere alone until we figure it out.”
She finished her call but did not put the car into gear. She merely sat, staring straight ahead.
When Nick asked, “What?” she swallowed hard and said, “Ali. She's supposed to be at a field hockey clinic in Bryn Mawr, but she's not there. Her car is
there, on campus, but there's no sign of her. She's just gone. She hasn't been seen in two days.”
Her heart nearly pounding out of her chest, she covered her face with her hands. Nick reached over and turned off the car.
“What exactly did Hayley tell you?” he asked.
“That Ali's mother called her this morning, that she'd seen the story about Henry and Lori on TV.” She glanced up at Nick. “Apparently, after we spoke with her on the phone, Ali told her mother about meeting her donor siblings and looking for Donor 1735 and what it all meant to her. Her mother didn't like it so much, but she told Ali that if this was so important to her, it was okay for her to pursue her sibling relationships. Ali had even told her mother about the other kids. So when she couldn't get in touch with her daughter, Ali's mom went through the list of phone numbers Ali kept on a bulletin board in her room and recognized Hayley's name and called her to see if she'd heard from Ali.”
“When was the last time anyone heard from Ali?”