“No, I'm not sure. I didn't really know what I was looking for. Maybe you should take a look.”

“I'm going to do that.” She drove thoughtfully for a few minutes, watching for the signs for I-95. “Damn, I wish we had her computer. You know it was all in there.”

“You're probably right.”

“No probably. You heard Hayley. This kid, Aaron, found his donor by using the Internet. If Belinda had contacted him, and followed his lead, she'd have done the same.”

“I wish we knew for sure what happened to her laptop.”

“I think we do know what happened. I think whoever is responsible for her disappearance has it.”

Emme signaled to turn onto the interstate and noted that rush hour traffic was in full swing.

“So where do we go from here?” Nick asked.

“We contact each one of the kids on that board, and we ask them to talk to us. I want to get a feel for the rest of the kids involved in this, get a better idea of how they all felt about Belle, how they felt about searching for their donor. Some of them might not have been as cozy with the idea as Hayley thinks they were.”

“Why wouldn't they be?”

“Some of these kids were born to single mothers, some to lesbian couples, some to married couples. In cases involving the latter, there may be a bit of touchiness on the part of the dads, if their infertility was the reason the moms went the donor route in the first place. The kids might be sensitive to that, might be afraid that their dads could be hurt if they knew the kid was looking for the sperm donor.”

“But those kids might not want to seem like the wet blanket when their donor siblings were all stoked about the possibility of finding Donor 1735.”

“Exactly.”

“You think one of these kids could be involved in Belinda's disappearance?” he asked.

“I think there's a very good chance that Belinda's disappearance is connected to her involvement with her donor siblings. It's premature to say how it's related, but I definitely think there's a connection. I just have to figure out what that connection is.”

“We,” he corrected. “We have to figure it out.”

“And you went on the foundation's payroll, when?” She raised an eyebrow.

“You're going to want me along when you talk to these kids, right?”

“Hadn't planned on it.” Emme frowned. “But for the record, why would I want to do that?”

“Because I'm the uncle. Her legal guardian. It gives the whole questioning-the-kids thing credibility.”

“I'm not seeing that connection. And besides,” she added, her eyes on the road straight ahead. “They think you're a perv.”

“Yeah, well, we're going to get to the bottom of that real fast.” Nick looked justifiably annoyed. “I'd sure love to know which of them started that nasty little rumor.”

“I'm sure it was just speculation, like Hayley said. They were just looking for a reason why she might have run away.”

“Why would they have assumed that she'd run away, I wonder?”

“Because it's easier for them to think she'd gone off on her own, than for them to think that she was abducted by someone who meant her harm. Especially if it was someone connected to them.”

“What do you think, Emme?” Nick asked quietly. “What do you really think happened to her?”

She hesitated. “I honestly don't know. I don't think she's a runaway, if that's what you're asking. I do believe she was taken against her will.”

“Do you think she's alive?”

“I don't know.” She owed him an honest answer. “The odds are against it, though. I know you understand that.”

He nodded slowly. “I know that after five months it's not looking too good.”

“I'm sorry, Nick. I hate to assume the worst has happened, but…”

“Yeah, I know. I still want to find her. I still want to know what happened to her.”

She was about to assure him that they'd do their best to make that happen when her phone rang. She glanced at the number before she answered, then looked at the clock. It was well after six.

Shit. Chloe.

“This is Emme,” she said with a sigh.

“Emme, it's Trula. I just wanted to know if it's okay with you if Chloe has dinner with us here at the house.”

“Oh, God, I am so sorry, Trula.” Emme blew out a long breath. “I didn't think we'd be quite this long.”

“Now, don't be sorry. You have a job to do. And I appreciate you letting me borrow this girl for a few hours. We've had a dandy time this afternoon… wait a second there, Chloe would like to say something.”

“Hola, Mommy!” Chloe sang into the phone. “That means ‘Hello, Mommy,’ in Spanish.”

“Where did you learn that, sweetie?”

“At school today. And know what else I can say? Tu eres muy linda. That means ‘You are very pretty,’” Chloe said proudly.

“Well, that's certainly a lot for one day.” Emme couldn't help but notice how perfect Chloe's accent was. If she said it pleased her that her nursery school teacher was teaching the kids a little Spanish, she'd be lying. Anything remotely connected to Chloe's father would be objectionable. Then again, Spanish was a great language to know. Emme was fairly fluent herself. And to be fair to Chloe, she would someday need to know about her own heritage.

“Mommy? Are you there?”

“I'm here, sweetie.”

“Me and Trula made muffins with walnuts in them. Robert ate one and said it was his favorite muffin ever.”

“You mean Mr. Magellan,” Emme corrected her.

“No, I mean Robert. He said to call him Robert.”

There was no arguing with the boss.

“Okay. Robert, then. Chloe, please put Trula back on the phone.”

“Okay, bye.” Chloe giggled and passed the phone to Trula.

“Again, I apologize for being so late, Trula. And judging from this traffic, it will be another hour at the very least before I get back to pick her up.”

“No rush, dear. We're all going to have a nice dinner and then we're going to practice printing our C's.”

“Trula, you don't have to do that.”

“Nonsense. My C's could use a little spiffing up. We'll see you when you get here and we'll have some dinner saved for you.”

“Bless you, Trula. When I asked if you'd mind picking her up today, I had no idea I'd be so late,” Emme said before she realized that Trula had already moved on.

“A problem?” Nick asked after Emme slipped her phone back into her pocket.

“I guess not. Robert Magellan's housekeeper-I say housekeeper because I don't know what else to call her-is entertaining my daughter until I get back to pick her up. Or maybe Chloe is entertaining Trula, I'm not sure.” She smiled in spite of her discomfiture at being late.

“How old is your daughter?”

“She's four.”

“One of the women who works for me has a four-year-old. That seems to be a fun age. At least, this kid is fun. She likes to help polish the chrome before the cars get picked up.”

“You let a four-year-old touch those valuable classic automobiles you restore?”

“Sure. She's very careful not to smudge. Better than some of the guys sometimes.” He smiled. “They're always in a hurry, but this kid, never. She takes it very seriously.”

“Well, four seems to be the age of earnestness. Chloe is very much into helping and doing things just right.”

After a few minutes had passed, Nick asked, “So, are you divorced from her dad?”

“I've never been married.”

“Oh.”

“Chloe is adopted,” she told him. “I've had her since she was only a few days old. She was born on a Friday, and on Monday morning I walked out the front door of the hospital with her in my arms.” She smiled across the console. “Long story. The short version is, it was love at first sight.”

“I guess it's hard sometimes, raising a child by yourself.”

“Only on days like this when work runs over. Thank God for Trula.”

“It's always good to have a backup,” he agreed. “Who backed you up where you used to live?” Before she could answer, he added, “You have to be new to the area or you wouldn't be living in a hotel, right? Unless your house burned down or something like that.”