Emme glanced over at Nick. He made no attempt to hide that his eyes brimmed with tears. She reached over and gave his hand a squeeze, telling herself that years of comforting victims had made such gestures come naturally. He held on to her, and she let him. “So you wouldn't think she'd run away?” “Belle? Uh-uh. She was a really happy, sweet, fun girl. Probably my favorite out of all the sibs, but don't tell the rest of them that.” “Your secret is safe with me.”

“What do you think happened to her?” Ali's voice dropped.

“We don't know. We're trying to track her movements after she left the museum that day. We'll be speaking with all the kids, by the way, to see if anyone's heard from her.”

“Some of them might not talk to you.”

“I guess they'll just have to tell me that themselves. I'm going to try anyway.”

“Give me your email address,” Ali said, “and I'll scan these photos in.”

Emme did as she'd been requested.

“You have the photos handy?”

“They're right here on my desk. Hold on… this will just take a couple of minutes. Don't go away.”

“I'll be here,” Emme assured her. “Good of her to do this,” Emme said, putting her hand over the speaker.

Nick nodded. Clearly, he was still slightly shaken after having heard how much Belle thought of him. Had she never told him? Emme wondered. Probably not. Kids sometimes don't think to tell the adults in their lives how they feel about them.

Chloe, on the other hand, at four, never hesitated to speak her mind about who she loved and how much. Just last evening, after Emme had finished the meal Trula had saved for her and they were leaving for the hotel for the night, Chloe had thrown her arms around Trula's neck, hugged her, and declared, “I love you, Trula. I wish you were my grandma.” Trula had been this close to puddling up-there'd been no mistaking that look.

Would the day come when Chloe's heart would no longer be as open? Emme hoped not…

“Okay, the pictures should be there any minute now.” Ali was back on the line.

“Hold on, let me check.” Emme turned the laptop in her direction and hit a few keys to access her mail. “Yes, they're here.”

She opened the email.

“Tell me who's who,” she said.

Nick pushed back his chair and stood behind Emme's, leaning over her shoulder to get a closer look at the photos.

“On the top one, from left to right, there's Hayley, me, Lori, Henry, and Belle.”

Hayley, clearly the youngest, wore an orange stadium coat with fur around the hood. Ali was tall and had very short blond hair and looked nothing like any of the other kids in the photo. Lori and Henry favored Hayley slightly, and bore a strong resemblance to each other. Belle wore a red peacoat over jeans and had a paper bag tucked under one arm. All five faced the camera with happy-go-lucky smiles.

Emme twisted in her seat to look up at Nick. He touched the back of her neck ever so slightly, the gesture catching her off guard. She looked back at the screen and kept her attention focused there. Or tried to.

“Who took the pictures?”

“A really nice lady who was taking some pictures out front offered to take them for me.”

“It looks like Belle has a bag under one arm,” Emme observed.

“Yeah, she bought some stuff in the museum store,” Ali told her. “Some postcards and a scarf. It had, like, some Renoir painting on it. Flowers.”

“What time was that, do you remember?”

“Ummm… maybe around two?”

Emme studied the photos for a long moment, then reached over and enlarged the image to fill the screen.

“Ali, who's that in the background on that last photo?”

“I don't know, just someone who was in front of the building when we were, I guess. I hadn't noticed.”

“Looks like the same person is here, in this one,” Nick said. He leaned closer and touched the screen. “Here, near the door.”

“Who's there?” Ali asked suspiciously.

“Ali, I'm sorry. Belle's uncle Nick is here with me. I apologize for not mentioning it.”

“It's okay, Ms. Caldwell.” To Emme's surprise, Ali didn't sound the least bit annoyed. “Hi, Belle's uncle Nick. I've heard a lot about you. Nice things. Or maybe you heard.”

“I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I'd be lying if I said I'm sorry I overhead you, Ali. Thanks so much for what you said about Belinda… Belle. I appreciate it.”

“No big.”

Emme assumed she meant no big deal, but knew it would be too uncool to ask.

“You were saying something about the door.” Emme got closer to the screen. “This person here? Is that a male or a female?”

“I can't tell.” Nick said. “I can't really see the face or the clothes that well. It's just sort of a form there, maybe a reflection off the glass. Could even be someone on the other side, maybe.”

“I can't tell either,” Ali said, reminding them she was still on the line.

“Ali, this uncool guy who was hanging around you and Belle-” Nick began, but Ali cut him off.

“Belle,” she corrected him. “He was hanging around Belle.”

“Do you remember what he looked like?”

“Kinda tall, blond hair. Buff. Like I said, really cute.”

“What was he wearing?” Emme asked.

“He had on a dark green sweater and jeans. And a brown suede jacket. I remember that, because it was really good suede. The real expensive kind.”

“How could you tell just by looking at it?” Nick asked.

“He was carrying it over his arm and it brushed against me when Belle and I were leaving the photography exhibit. He got way too close but his jacket was the bomb.”

“Sounds like a bold little bugger,” Nick said.

“Way bold,” Ali agreed.

“Did he get close again?” Emme asked.

“No. We left after that and went outside.”

“Hayley said she and Henry and Lori shared a cab back to the train station but that you and Belle had both driven that day. So were you still with Belle after the others left?”

“Uh-huh. There's some limited parking behind the building and I was lucky enough to get a spot there when I arrived that morning. Belle was late and had to park on another street. I offered to drive her, but she said since it was the first somewhat warm day of the winter, she wanted to walk.”

“Where did you part company?”

“Out front.”

“Did you happen to see which way she went when she left you?”

“She went straight down the steps. You know, where they did the Rocky thing? There's that big oval drive out in front of the building so I figured she was parked down there someplace.”

“She didn't say how far she had to go to get her car?”

“I don't remember if she did.”

“Ali, do you still have the email you got from Belle after the museum trip?”

“I'm sure I deleted it. I'm sorry.”

“One more thing,” Nick said. “Did you see Mr. Uncool again that day?”

“No. I guess he just gave up.” Ali paused, then added, “You don't think he followed her or something creepy like that, do you? Because if something happened to her because I let her walk to her car alone, and he followed her and-”

“Whoa, Ali, back up. First of all, you didn't let her walk to her car. That was her idea. She's a big girl. And regardless of what happened to her and where, it wasn't your fault, so please don't even start down that path. The only person responsible for what happened to Belle, is the person who actually did… whatever might have been done.”

When it seemed Ali had been too quiet for too long, Emme said, “Ali?”

“You're right. It's just that…”

“I know. It's always easy to second guess yourself, but in this case, I don't think anything you could have done would have made any difference.”

“Why not?”

“If someone-this guy or someone else-was determined to get to Belle, he'd have found a way.”

“But why would someone be after Belle?” Ali began to cry.

Emme sighed. “That's what we're trying to figure out.”