Free Cry Mercy by Mariah Stewart Page A

about you.”
    “Seven years,” she told him. “In California.”
    “Well, then you'll understand what I mean when I say that I'm happy to turn it over to you. That case has been a pain in my ass since day one.” He paused before adding, “We charge ten cents a page for copying, by the way. I explained that to the lady who called.”
    “I'm sure that's not a problem.”
    “Yeah, this was just one of those cases that started out bad, right out of the gate, you ever have one of them?”
    Emme nodded. “I don't know a cop who hasn't.”
    He shook his head, and a strand of white hair flipped onto his forehead. “I've been a cop for almost forty years, and I never had a case where there were no clues. Nothing. That girl just walked out of that house on College Avenue and disappeared into the mist, just like you see on TV. You know those shows about missing people, how they just sort of evaporate? That's what this girl did. She just evaporated.”
    “Well, there's the datebook with the initials—” Emme pointed out.
    He kept on going as if he'd not heard. “No one saw her leave the house that day, no one saw her on campus, no one saw her—period. We interviewed damn near everyone who was on campus that weekend, and spent two days making the rounds of the shops on Main Street. Nothing. A lot of folks knew her, but no one had seen her on Saturday morning. Now, that could be due to the early hour she left the house.”
    “She left a little before seven, I think the report said.”
    “That's what the roommate told us. Said she was half asleep but she knows that the Hudson girl was there because she borrowed some money from her. The roommate figured she was going to grab a coffee somewhere there on campus, then go on to the library, the way she usually did.”
    “Chief, do you have her datebook?”
    He nodded. “I do. Did you want to look at it?”
    “I would, thank you.”
    “Just a second, and I'll have that brought out for you. We have several boxes of interviews—you're welcome to go through them, too, if you like.”
    Emme turned her wrist to look at her watch. She had a few hours before she had to meet with Belinda's roommate. “I'd like that, yes.”
    “We can set you up in the office next door—we're waiting for the town council to approve a new hire for us. Built us this nice new space but didn't give us the money to put any more officers on board. Though with the college complaining to the mayor every week that the girl is still missing, you'd think someone would think it would be a good idea to put a few more uniforms on the street.”
    He shoved himself off the desk and disappeared into the hall, then returned a few minutes later, telling her, “They're going to bring the files down for you in a few, along with the evidence box.”
    “Chief, I appreciate you being so cooperative,” she said. As a cop, she'd found most departments to be highly territorial, but Chief Dietrich didn't appear to be holding anything back.
    “Hey, the sooner it becomes your problem, the sooner it's no longer mine,” he told her bluntly. “I got enough problems in other areas without having the mayor, the council members, the college, parents of kids at the college, all on my back. If you can find this girl, that'll be great. But in the meantime, people call me, I tell them to call you, far as I'm concerned.”
    “That will be fine, Chief,” she said evenly.
    “You think you'll do a better job than we did?”
    “This is my only case right now, Chief. If your guys had the luxury of devoting all their time to one case, I imagine by now we'd have some idea of what happened to Belinda Hudson,” she answered, as diplomatically as she could. “I know how hard it is to work a complex case like this, to watch it grow cold, and meanwhile the new cases are stacking up on the desk. So no, to answer your question, I don't think I'll do a better job than your people did. I just think I'll have more time to do it.”
    He