Chapter 5: Cash Job

Trudy made the call from her own phone, standing at the cabin sink with the water running so she could hear herself think.

I had told her what the card said.

She dialed the number printed on it and put it on speaker.

"Draycott Maternity Pavilion, how may I direct your call?"

"Delivery suite four C," Trudy said. "I'm calling about a booking for a Miss Whitacre."

"One moment, please."

A keyboard clicked.

"Yes, that's confirmed for the week of March twenty-fourth. It's prepaid in full. May I ask who's calling?"

"Her aunt," said Trudy. "Who paid?"

"The booking was made by Miss Moncrieff. I'm afraid I can't say more."

Trudy hung up.

She turned off the tap and dried her hands very slowly on a dish towel.

"Prepaid," she said.

"Kind people pay for things," I said.

"Do they?"

"She never told Cameron. If she wanted me to call her, she could have put her number on the card."

"She did put her number on the card."

I looked at the card on the table.

It had a number, written in round blue ink.

"Maybe she's just kind," I said, and neither of us believed it.

The next morning I walked into the bakery on Main Street because the smell stopped me on the sidewalk.

The baker was a big man with flour up to his elbows and a heavy face that never seemed to smile.

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