“The department Nolan worked for?”

“Yeah. He says she's changed her name and she's working for this Mercy place.”

“What is that?”

“It's some like, company, that finds missing persons for free.”

“They work for free?”

“Yeah. This rich dude, Robert Magellan, runs it.”

“Robert Magellan?” That was a name Navarro knew. “Rich dude, for sure. This cop says Nolan is working for him?”

“Yeah. He said he intercepted a phone call about it.”

“Magellan is like, one of the richest dudes in the country.” Navarro began to walk to the house. “He probably has mad security.”

“At his workplace and his house, sure. But she has to live someplace else, right? And kids are kids. She has to play sometime, has to go to school somewhere.”

Navarro went through his front door and directly to his office and sat at his desk.

“What's the name of this place again?” he asked.

“Mercy Street Foundation.”

“Give me a minute.” He typed in the name and waited for the website to pull up.

“Here we go. Let's see what they have here. Staff bios… Robert Magellan… Susanna Jones… Mallory Russo…” Navarro laughed. “He's even got a priest on his staff. Is that for real?” He clicked on the icon for Father Kevin Burch. “Pastor, Our Lady of Angels… there's a picture of the church.”

He went back to the staff page.

“Interesting. Only one member of the staff doesn't have a picture on line. Emme Caldwell.”

“That's her. That's Nolan.”

“You're sure of this.”

“This cop that called, Whittaker, says it's her.”

“What do we know about him? Whittaker?”

“He's helped us out from time to time,” Jesus told him. “What do you want me to do, Anthony?”

“Nothing, bro. I'll take care of this myself. Thanks.”

He hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. His first instinct was to send a squadron of thugs to Conroy, Pennsylvania, grab his daughter and this woman, Ann, Emme, whatever she was calling herself. But that would be stupid. Anthony Navarro was a lot of things. Stupid wasn't one of them.

He got up and walked to the window, thinking it through. The woman didn't matter. As much as he'd love to punish her for taking his only child and trying to hide her away-make this Ann Nolan regret the day she was born-he didn't have to take her to hurt her. He would simply leave her to live in the hell of knowing that the girl was gone and was going to stay gone, that she'd never see her again.

He turned his attention back to the website and read, then reread every page until inspiration struck. When it did, he found himself grinning from ear to ear, overwhelmed by his own brilliance.

He was pretty sure he knew where to find his child, and who to send to bring her to him.

All Emme knew when she opened her eyes was that it was much later in the afternoon than it had been, and she had one bitch of a headache. She could hear voices from somewhere close by but her head hadn't cleared quite enough to figure out what was being said or by whom. She lay awkwardly on the ground and hoped the fog would begin to clear soon. She tried to move but her wrists were taped behind her and her ankles were taped together. There was tape across her mouth, which forced her to breath through her nose.

It took several moments for it to dawn on her where she was, and why she'd gone there. She remembered the conversation with Ava on the phone, the drive to Ballard. She'd parked the car next to a black Mercedes sedan, reached for her phone to call Nick, and from there things began to get fuzzy. She'd gotten out of the car, hadn't she? A young woman had been walking toward her, a smile on her face.

“I'm Ava,” she'd said, her hand stretched out to Emme.

Had there been a sound behind her, something she'd not been able to place? A smack to the back of the head-that she was certain of. Something hard that had driven her to her knees, and had flooded her mind with darkness.

The voices came closer, and she tried to focus her eyes on the approaching figures. The young woman, Ava-yes, the same one who'd earlier greeted her. Funny, Emme thought, one would think she'd be upset that Emme had been knocked cold and still lay upon the ground. Shouldn't she have called for the police or for an ambulance?

Apparently not.

And the young man with her… he was familiar in a way, yet Emme was certain she'd never seen him before. It took several moments for her to place him. He bore a strong resemblance to the twins, Will and Wayne, in the photo Ali had sent her, and he matched the description of the boy who'd followed Belle in the museum. Tall, blond, buff. But who was he, and why was he here?

“… done with it now. I got her here for you. You do whatever it is you're going to do, but I don't want to know about it. I am out of here as of right now,” the girl was saying.

“Oh, for God's sake, you're such a fucking wimp,” the young man sneered. “What would you do if you didn't have me to do your dirty work for you?”

“Who are you kidding?” Ava stood with her hands on her hips. “You've loved every minute of this.”

“True enough, sister dear.” He pushed a shock of light hair back from his forehead. “Well, if you don't want to stick around for what comes next, I suggest you get on your way.”

Emme heard the sound of jiggling keys and footsteps that passed close by. She closed her eyes, not wanting it to become apparent that she was awake and alert.

“Hey, did you check to see if she's armed?” The boy called after her.

“No, but she isn't. I asked her on the phone if she had a gun, and she said she wasn't a cop and wouldn't come here carrying one anyway.”

“Rule number one: trust no one.” He squatted next to Emme and ran his hands over her body. It was all she could do not to flinch or cringe with disgust.

“Where are you taking her?” Ava was in the Mercedes, the motor running.

“Same place I took the others. Only this time, I think we'll go by sea rather than by land.”

“Where?”

“I thought you didn't want to know.”

“I'm just curious.”

“Remember that old Indian burial ground at the other end of the woods?”

“Where we used to look for artifacts? That's where you took them?”

There was no answer, but she could see his shadow. He was nodding his head, and Ava began to laugh.

“That's so gross. What if you dig up some old Indian bones? Aren't you afraid the spirits would come after you?”

“Well, since we never found any artifacts, I'm thinking there probably aren't any old bones, either. But hey, you never know,” he replied, and it occurred to Emme that he sounded amused by the prospect. She heard the car creep closer.

“What are you going to do if someone comes looking for her?” Ava asked.

“Looking for who? No one's been here all day except me and my sister.”

“What are you going to do with her car?”

“I'll take care of the car later. Now go, if you're going. Otherwise, feel free to watch. Maybe you should. You might like it.”

The car shot past where Emme lay on the ground, and a moment later, the boy Ava had called JJ. was leaning over her.

“No one's out that long from a little tap on the head,” he said, “so you can stop pretending, Emme Caldwell. I know you can hear me.”

When she didn't reply, he pushed a thumb in her eye and pulled the lid back. When she blinked several times to focus on him, he smiled.

“That's better. Now, come on, work with me here. Let's get you up on your feet.” He pulled her up by lifting under her arms. She let herself go limp, a dead weight, and he dropped her, letting her hit the ground like a sack. “I said, work with me, Miss Emme, unless you want me to have a go at you right here and now. I promise you, you won't like it once I begin, and once I do, I won't be able to stop. Now, when I lift you, I expect you to take your weight on your legs and feet… there you go. That wasn't so hard, was it?”