near the coffee table.
Sharp pains arrowed through Janie’s head. Her hands were shaking as she bent over to search under the table and the couch.
There it was, on the other side of the couch. She walked around and picked it up, then ran for the back door. She used the towel to turn the knob.
As she climbed into her car, she heard traffic on the street in front of Bess’s house. Was it the police?
She tossed the bloody towel and the gun into the passenger seat and started the car. She pulled out onto the street behind Bess’s house, her limbs twitching with panic.
As she sped away and turned right onto McCarthy Avenue, parallel to Bergen, she licked her lips and shook her head to rid herself of the fear that strangled her. In all her years of brokering babies, she’d never made a mistake. But she’d misjudged Bess this time.
She couldn’t believe Bess would do anything that would jeopardize her relationship with Mia. Janie had always counted on that. It was why she’d given her first stolen child to Bess.
She’d have bet money—she had bet her and Ed’s future—that Bess would die before taking a chance on losing Mia.
Bess had died.
Janie practically gagged at the memory of Bess crumpled over the coffee table, blood spilling out around her.
Blood. Pumping. Blood didn’t pump out of a dead body.
Janie slammed on the brakes, about a hundred yards from Oak Grove Boulevard, the main street through the town. A car rushed past.
Janie froze, but the vehicle continued on.
Glancing in her side and rearview mirrors, Janie slowed and pulled into an empty driveway. Hopefully the owners of the house were at church. Leaving her car running, she glanced around again. The little street seemed deserted.
She quickly crossed the backyard and stepped into the common area. Trees and leafy undergrowth gave her cover as she maneuvered so she could see the front door of Bess’s house. She measured the distance across the yard of Bess’s big old farmhouse set back from the road. She was too far away to chance running across Bess’s manicured lawn.
Maybe she should drive back around. Did she have time?
As if in answer to her question, a car turned in to Bess’s driveway.
Pain hammered in Janie’s head.
What if Bess wasn’t dead?
IT HAD TAKEN forty minutes to get to the small town of Oak Grove, east of Philadelphia.
Sunny acknowledged the wisdom of Griff’s decision not to call the woman.
“I understand that she might panic and run,” she told him. “I also know you’re afraid this might be a trap.”
“Her name is Bess Raymond,” he said as he turned onto Bergen Avenue. “She’s run a small day care center out of her home for over thirty years. She has one daughter, Mia, seventeen years old.”
“Day care center? That explains why she has Emily. She must be keeping her for the kidnapper.” Her voice was tight with desperation and hope.
He didn’t answer.
“You don’t think she has Emily, do you?”
“I don’t know. I think she knows where Emily is. My guess is that she’s involved in a baby-selling ring. Think about it. A single woman, living in a relatively isolated area, running a day care center. She’s the perfect person to hold the children while arrangements are made for an illegal adoption.”
“All the children who are never found.” Sunny’s voice tore at his sore heart.
“Right.” His voice grated. Not all the children, but many. He thought of his own little sister, with her big violet eyes and thick, dark lashes. He’d lived his entire life hoping she was alive and happy, being cared for by loving parents. The alternative was too dreadful to bear thinking of.
“Griff? You look awful. Are you all right?”
He blinked and kept his eyes on the road. “Sure. There’s Bess Raymond’s house.”
He pulled out his cell phone and dialed one of the numbers he’d programmed into it less than an hour ago. A woman answered.
“This is Griffin Stone, FBI. Captain Sparks please.”
“What are you doing?” Sunny asked.
“Alerting the locals. I told my boss I wouldn’t go in without backup.”
“But she might run.”
He held up a hand when he heard a voice say, “Sparks, here.”
“Yes, Captain Sparks. Sorry to bother you at home. That’s right. My boss, Mitch Decker, called you? Good. We’re approaching the Raymond woman’s house now. I’d appreciate some backup in case of a problem.”
“They’re on standby. Shouldn’t be but a couple of minutes. What about an ambulance?”
Griff looked at Sunny. If anything happened to her baby— “Yeah.