Authors: Mariah Stewart
“You'll have to let me know how retirement feels.” She counted out his change from a five. “God knows I'll never get to experience it. I swear, if it isn't one thing, it's another.”
“Those kids of yours still giving you grief, Els?”
She rested one elbow on the counter. “My daughter Regina blows in last week with both her kids in tow. Says she got evicted from her place and had no where else to go. Tell it to their father, I tell her.” She shook her head. “But no. So here I am, at my age, the son moved back home last year, now the daughter with her kids…” She blew out a breath laden with exasperation. “So I figure the only way I'll be able to experience retirement is vicariously, through my friends.”
“I were you, I'd be moving to a smaller place. No room for anyone to move in, take advantage of you.”
“Don't think I haven't thought of it, Sarge, but hey,
your kids are your kids, right? What are you gonna do? Pray for a windfall, is all.”
The bell over the door rang as another customer came in, and she slapped her hand on the counter. “Good seeing you, Sarge.”
“You too, Elsie.” He took his drink and walked to the small park at the corner, found a bench and took a seat and thought about his retirement. His pension wasn't going to go as far as he'd hoped it would. He couldn't say he wasn't worried about that. Thirty-three years as a cop and he'd be leaving without a whole lot to show for it.
Windfall.
That's what was really on his mind.
He'd heard the rumors on the street, he'd even been slipped a phone number in the bar the other night, just in case he heard something. He suspected that most of the members of the force had been given the same number. Would anyone hesitate to use it? Anyone other than Steffie, that is?
The whole thing had been odd, Ann disappearing like that, just taking off. Steffie's explanation that she'd quit and left without notice because she was sick. Well, that just wasn't credible. Steffie and Ann had been best friends. Steffie was the godmother to Ann's daughter. He could buy the part about Ann quitting and not giving notice once the story about Navarro started circulating, but not that Steffie didn't know where she'd gone. And Steffie didn't even seem that upset. All she ever said was that Ann did what Ann thought was best for her. If she wanted anyone to know where she was, she'd let them know.
Then out of the blue, there's this call about Emme Caldwell.
No, not out of the blue. Mallory Russo said she spoke with Steffie a few weeks ago. What had that been about?
He thought he might know.
He went back to his office and closed the door behind him, then went through his top drawer until he found the crumpled piece of paper. He smoothed it out and before he could change his mind, he dialed the number. It rang four times before a man answered.
“This is Carl Whittaker. Tell Mr. Navarro I might know where he can find his daughter…”
S
usanna will be here in a minute,” Mallory told Emme as she came into the conference room. “She's on the phone but she's wrapping up the call now.”
Emme nodded and went over the mental notes she'd made on her way back to Conroy. She'd called Mallory from the car and brought her up-to-date, but Mal thought everyone should know where things stood. Nick had insisted on following her back and had wanted to sit in on the meeting. Since no one had objected, he'd taken a place at the table and now waited for Emme to begin.
“I figured out where I knew you from.” Robert slapped Nick on the back as he came into the room. “Six years ago, you had a 1970 Aston Martin for sale at an auto show in New York.”
Nick thought for a moment, then nodded. “I was selling it for a client. You were at that show?”
“Yeah, I wanted that car in the worst way.” Robert made his way around the table and seated himself across from Nick. “I couldn't afford it then. Now, when I can, I can't find one.”
“That year's tough to find,” Nick agreed, “but they
do come on the market from time to time. I can ask around for you if you want.”
“I want.” Robert nodded enthusiastically. “As soon as I saw that Firebird out there, it jogged my memory. You deal in classics, right?”
“Mostly, yes.”
“I checked you out at the time. You had a good reputation.”
“I like to believe I still do.”
“Okay, boys, continue the man talk later.” Susanna, the last arrival, seated herself. “It's getting late.”
To Emme she said, “Father Kevin is on his way over but he said to start without him. He said to tell you he'll bring Chloe here so not to rush things thinking you have to get to school.”
“Thanks, Susanna. And thanks, Father Kevin.” Emme looked around. “Where's Trula?”
“She wasn't sure she was supposed to be included,” Susanna told her.
“Can we get her up here?” Emme glanced from one face to the next.
“Yes, she should be here. She always has good insights.” Mallory left the room. “I'll be right back.”
“So, Nick, about the car …” Robert tapped on the tabletop.
Mallory came back into the room and Trula followed moments later. Trula rested a hand on Emme's shoulder and leaned over to tell her, “I put those roses you brought back with you in a vase. They're on the counter in the kitchen. Make sure you take them with you when you go.”
“Thanks, Trula.” Emme patted Trula's hand before the woman took her seat.
Mallory sat at the head of the table at one end, Emme the other. “Okay, everyone, Emme's going to bring us up-to-date on the progress of our first case. Nick Perone, who sent the application in to us, is here. He's been working with Emme because of the number of young people associated with the case, some of whom might be put off by being questioned by a PI, but are okay talking to Belinda's uncle. Emme?”
Emme walked them through the case, from finding Heaven's Gate and discovering that Nick's sister had used a sperm donor to conceive Belinda, through finding the donor siblings, to finding the DNA report from the lab Belinda had used.
“I have a question,” Trula asked. “How many of these donor siblings did Belinda have?”
“Nine.”
“Of those nine, how many have you met or spoken with?”
Emme paused to think. “We've only met Hayley in person. But we spoke with Ali on the phone, and we spoke with Henry. We—Nick and I—were supposed to meet Lori and Henry at the zoo on Saturday, but they had car trouble and never showed.”
“So did you set another meeting with them?”
“Actually,” Emme said uneasily, “I haven't heard from them at all. I've called and emailed, but neither of them have responded.”
“Odd, wouldn't you say?” Trula asked.
“Very. As far as the others are concerned, I've
emailed every one of them, and have posted on their message board.”
“How many of them answered you?”
“All except Ava, Jessica, and Justin.” Emme frowned and looked at Nick. “That's right, isn't it?”
He nodded. “Hayley said Ava is in Boston in grad school—I'm guessing she isn't real active right now on the message board, and maybe she doesn't keep up with the email from the kids.”
“The kids?” Susanna raised an eyebrow.
“Hayley said that Ava was twenty-four. Most of the others are in their late teens or early twenties. At sixteen, Hayley is the youngest, but Ava seems to respond to her via personal email. The impression I have is that she's busy with school and she doesn't really want to be bothered by the group.”
“What about Jessica?” Susanna asked. “Does she not want to be bothered either?”
“Hayley said her father was transferred to France last year, and the family relocated. They haven't heard from her since she left.”
“They do have the Internet in France, right?” Trula said dryly. “And what about this kid, Justin, why hasn't he checked in? Did he respond to your email about the DNA swab?”
“No one did,” Emme told her.
Trula frowned. “Where are all these kids?”
“I've been wondering that myself,” Emme admitted.
“Maybe they decided they don't like outsiders interfering with their lives,” Mallory suggested. “Right now, the important thing is that we have the DNA profile.”
“What are you going to do with it?” Susanna asked.
“We're going to do what this sixteen-year-old, Aaron, did,” Emme told her. “We're going to send it to every one of the online genealogy services until we find one that can give us a match.”
“What are these genealogy services?” Trula asked.
“They're online search services,” Emme explained. “You can search for relatives—living ones or your ancestors—in a number of ways. You could have them search by surname, or you can have them search for DNA matches. You provide your DNA, and they compare it to DNA that's been submitted by other people.”
“The world is becoming a complicated place.” Trula shook her head. “Imagine finding your relatives that way.”
“A lot of people are doing it, apparently. There are several of these services available. We're going to hit all of them at the same time. Then if we're lucky, we'll find matches, and we'll try to locate those persons using the Internet.”
“To what end?” Susanna persisted.
“To locate Donor 1735,” Emme told her. “Who may or may not be involved in Belinda's disappearance.”
“You mean, maybe she figured out who he was, and he was someone who didn't want to be found and maybe …” Trula left the thought unfinished.
“That's certainly a very real possibility.” Emme nodded.
“Have you considered that if he didn't want her to
find him, he isn't going to want you to find him, either?”
“It's possible, Trula, but I'm not a starry-eyed nineteen-year-old girl looking for her daddy,” Emme replied. “I think I can take care of myself.”
“So it's a matter of running those”—Robert pointed to the papers on the table in front of Emme—“through some databases?”
“Databases on specific websites that contain DNA profiles.”
“Oh, I can do that,” Robert said.
Five pairs of eyes stared at him. Robert stared back.
“Excuse me,” he said, with no small amount of sarcasm, “you're talking to the man who developed the most sophisticated search engine on the planet. I think I can handle this part.”
“Seriously?” Emme asked. “How would you?”
“I still have some pretty mad computer skills,” he said, as if amused. “Besides, my former partner designed a computer that will never see the retail market. That sucker can … well, never mind what it can do. I'm going to fax your report to Colin and see what he can do for us. If the database exists that has a match to that profile, he'll find it. Then we'll see what we can do about tracking down the matches.” He waved a hand impatiently in Emme's direction for the papers.
“Okay, then, Robert's on the DNA.” She passed him the report.
He looked it over. “Was there anything else for today?”
“No,” Emme said. “That should do it for now.”
“I'll be in my office.” Smiling, Robert left the room.
“Well, he looked happy,” Mallory said.
“He has a project.” Susanna's eyes were still on the door Robert had just exited. “He hasn't had work to do in a long time. I think he's missed it.”
“I didn't want to appear rude, but this partner of his—”
“Colin Bressler.” Susanna stood and pushed in her chair. “He's the ultimate computer geek. He'll have that DNA traced through every database that exists.”
“How can he do that?” Emme frowned. “Without subscribing, that is?”
“I trust he'll find a way.” Susannah appeared amused.
“Is he going to hack his way in?”
“Emme, ‘hack’ is such a harsh word.” Susanna drained her coffee cup. “And besides, hacking is for amateurs.”
“Robert did seem pretty confident,” Nick noted.
“Seriously. If there is a database out there that contains those sequences, believe me, Colin will find it,” Susanna said as she left the room. “And way faster than anyone else could.”
Childish giggles echoed from the hall.
“That sounds like Chloe,” Trula said. “I'll take her down for a snack while you fill Kevin in. I know he'll want to be kept up-to-date.”
By noon the following day, Emme was a believer.
“Robert wants you to go straight to his office as soon as you get your coffee,” Trula told her when she entered the house.
“Good news or bad news?” Emme frowned as she read through the selection of coffee mugs. She'd had practically no sleep the night before, having relived and rethought and reconsidered her relationship with Nick—did they even
have
a relationship or had they just had sex?—and wasn't in the mood for any of what Susanna called Trula's smart-ass mugs. She settled on
Never judge a book by its movie
.
“What's the difference? He's the boss and he wants to see you pronto,” Trula reminded her.
“Good point.”
Emme fixed her coffee and went directly to Robert's office. She tapped lightly on the half-opened door.
“You wanted to see me?” she said.
“Come on in.” He had his back to the door, his attention focused on a very large screen that sat on the sideboard next to his desk.
“Is that a TV or a computer?” she asked.
“Yes.” He looked up and smiled. “Both. Either. Whichever I need it to be.”
“I never saw one like that.”
“And it will be awhile before you do. This is one of Colin's toys,” he explained. “Now, here's your list of names. Note that the spelling of …”
Her jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”
“Sure. I told you, Colin is quite brilliant when it comes to finding things. He apologized for not having it to us sooner but he was out last night.”
“I'm stunned. I thought it would take a few days.”
“Get unstunned, ye of little faith.” Robert was clearly enjoying this. “We have quite a few names. Where do we go from here to narrow them down?”
She stared over his shoulder at the screen.
“All of those men share the same Y chromosome as Donor 1735?”
“So say the databases.”
“Gardner. Gardener. Gartnor. Gartner.” She read the long list of surnames aloud. “I guess we'll start with those who were born in Philadelphia.”
He hit a few keys, then looked up. “It wants to know which Philadelphia. I'm assuming you mean the one in Pennsylvania and not the one in Mississippi?”