Cry Mercy by Mariah Stewart Read Free Book Online

L-shaped benches built and deep cushions made to match the curtains. The cozy corner had quickly become the favored spot in the house for meetings.
    “What did I think about what?” Mallory replied absently.
    “The price of gas.” Susanna rolled her eyes. “Emme Caldwell. What did you think of her?”
    “I think she very well may be as good as her former boss says she is,” Mallory told her.
    “So do we have a hire?” Robert sat across the large square table from them.
    “I don't know.”
    “Is there a problem with her?” Robert asked.
    “I don't know. I just feel that something is off somewhere. She's almost too good to be true.”
    “Something about her you didn't like?” Robert pressed her.
    “I liked her well enough,” Mallory conceded.
    “I liked her, too.” Trula placed a square plate of cookies in the middle of the table. “Not that anyone cares what I think.”
    “Not true,” Mallory protested. “Of course we all care what you think.” She picked up one of the cookies and licked the pink frosting. “Are you going to tell us what you liked about her?”
    “I liked the way she was with that girl of hers. Came in here to get her, didn't rush the child as if what she was doing wasn't important, the way some folks do to their kids. Listened to what the girl had to say, spoke thoughtfully to her. You can tell a lot about a person by the way they speak to their kids. I like adults who treat children with respect.” Trula added a stack of napkins to the table. “And I liked that when she speaks to you, she looks you dead in the eye. ′Course I know that doesn't mean she's a good investigator, but we're talking about liking her.” Trula smiled at Mallory. “I liked her.”
    “You're not fooling anyone. You just liked having a little girl in the kitchen with you,” Mallory teased.
    “That goes without saying.” Still smiling, Trula began to pass around mugs for coffee. She'd been collecting for years and had just received several new ones she'd ordered online. While they each had their favorites, no one ever knew which one they'd end up with if Trula was passing them out.
    “Hey, how come I got the one that says
He who dies with the most stuff is still dead?”
Mallory held up her mug.
    “Don't complain. She gave me
Sleeps with Dogs,”
Susanna said, twirling hers around her index finger. “What's yours say, Robert?”
    He picked up the mug, held it up for her to see.
“I am the Gatekeeper.”
    “Oooh,
Ghostbusters.”
Mallory's eyes lit up. “Want to trade?”
    “Oh, for crying out loud.” Trula set the coffeepot on the table and looked from one to the other. “Who cares what your mug says?”
    “You obviously do, Trula, because you keep buying them,” Susanna pointed out.
    Kevin came in through the back door. “Did I miss anything?”
    “You missed the children fighting over who got what mug,” Trula said dryly.
    “Which one did you get?” the priest asked his cousin.
    “Don't start it up again,” Trula warned. “Just sit down and get on with business.”
    She poured coffee all around while Kevin hung up his jacket. When he came to the table, she handed him a mug. He raised it to read the saying on it, smiled smugly, and sat next to his cousin.
    “Okay, what's it say?” Robert asked.
    Kevin held up the mug.
I see dumb people
.
    “Trula always did like you best,” Robert grumbled.
    “Doesn't everyone?” Kevin grinned. “So, where were we before I interrupted?”
    “We were discussing the candidate Mallory interviewed today.” Susanna filled him in while he helped himself to a cookie.
    “Good, bad, indifferent?” Kevin added sugar to his mug.
    “She's good,” Mallory replied thoughtfully. “Better than good.”
    “Availability?” Kevin tasted the coffee before adding cream.
    “Immediate,” Mal told him.
    “Don't we need someone immediately?”
    Mallory nodded. “If not sooner.”
    “So what's the problem?”
    Mallory ticked off each of Emme's moves on her