Free Cry Mercy by Mariah Stewart Page B

nodded, satisfied with her response.
    “Hey, just think of me as that extra set of hands you always wish you had around here.” She tried to sound chipper.
    A uniformed cop stuck his bald head through the door. “Chief, the files are on the desk, like you asked.”
    “Thanks, Feldman. Take Ms. Caldwell next door and see that she gets what she needs.” The chief turned to Emme. “There's a copier at the end of the hall there, if you need it. Just keep track of how many you run. Council's been driving us crazy down here, keeping track of every damned thing.”
    “I'll be sure to do that, thanks. And thanks for everything. We appreciate it.”
    “Good luck with the case. You'll keep us in the loop?”
    “Of course. It's still your case.”
    “Right. You're just ‘the extra set of hands,’” he said as she walked past. “But if you settle the case, I guess the press is going to be real good for your organization.”
    “Mine and yours.” She smiled. “Like I said, it's still your case. If there's an arrest to be made in Eastwind, it's going to be your collar.”
    He stared at her. “You crack it here, you're turning it back over to us?”
    “That's right. You're the law here.” She'd already figured out that everything the foundation did was going to be scrutinized, that word in the law enforcement community traveled fast, and that she had to make nice with the cops into whose cases she'd be interjecting herself. She might as well start now, with the first case. Besides, other than making a citizen's arrest, what jurisdiction did she really have here?
    The smile still plastered on her face, she followed the officer to the next room and dropped her bag next to the desk. There were seven boxes piled on top, in no particular order. She only had a few hours to go through them.
    “Oh, Chief?” she called back to him. When he appeared in her doorway, she asked, “What about Belinda's computer? Has it been found?”
    He shook his head, “No. She must have taken it with her. Sorry. No computer, no phone.”
    “The records from the phone company?”
    “Should be in one of those boxes. We didn't get a whole lot of information from them, though. As often as kids use those things, you'd have thought we'd come up with more than some calls home and a couple of wrong numbers…”

SIX
    T he Theta Phi Sigma sorority house at Chestertown College was set on a slight rise directly across College Avenue from the library, and bore its name on a banner that stretched across the front porch from one end to the other. The house itself was light gray, well-maintained stucco with a narrow drive that ran along one side and ended in a tiny parking lot out back. Emme hadn't realized just how tiny until she attempted to park there. Exasperated after several attempts to fit her car into any available space, she backed out of the lot onto the busy street, cursing under her breath all the way, just as classes were changing. She drove around the corner and parked in a metered spot. Finding that she lacked the proper change did nothing to improve her mood. She decided to leave the car next to the expired meter and take her chances with the meter maids.
    A young woman seated in a rocking chair on the far end of the porch called to her as she walked toward the sorority house.
    “Ms. Caldwell?”
    “Yes. Are you Debra Newhouse?”
    The girl nodded.
    Emme joined her on the porch and took a seat in the rocker next to hers.
    “Has anyone found out anything about Belle?” Debra asked.
    “Belle … you mean Belinda?”
    “Everyone called her Belle.” Debra's voice was thin, her eyes red rimmed as if she'd been crying. “When you called, I was hoping that you'd have some good news to tell us. We've all been so upset about her. But you go along and after a while, you don't think about it all day every day like you do at first. I felt so guilty after you called, because I hadn't thought about her yesterday.” Deb's eyes filled with