a baby thing. You know, a carrier, with a handle.”
“A bassinet?” Annie asked, smiling at him. “You don’t have children, do you, Detective?”
“No ma’am.” He didn’t bother to add that it wasn’t likely he ever would. He didn’t have enough faith that he could do a child justice.
“Let me see.” She led him to a section of the store that contained larger, more elaborate baskets.
“Like that one,” he said, relieved to see one similar to the one baby David had been left in.
“The Bullrushes model,” Annie said, her voice filled with amusement. “I only made six of those this year. It shouldn’t be too hard to find out who bought them.”
Mel examined the basket, surreptitiously bumping the price tag. His eyes widened. It was nearly four hundred dollars. For a basket!
Annie was already on her way to the desk where she began flipping through invoices. “You have to keep in mind that a lot of times the baskets are bought for gifts. The person who paid for it may have given it away.”
She gave a little cry of success. “Here’s the last one. Yes, it was bought about two weeks ago by—it was a cash purchase.” Her brow furrowed and Mel suddenly felt the lead grow cold.
“Is there a name?”
“I almost always write the name and address. The baskets are guaranteed. It’s part of my policy.” She flipped through several more pages. “You know, I remember this purchase. The woman was adamant that she wouldn’t leave a name. It was very peculiar, like she thought I’d sell her information to some kind of list.”
Or discover that she was planning to dump her baby, Mel thought, but he kept his mouth shut.
“She was a striking woman. Redheaded with huge green eyes. She said it was a gift for someone.”
Mel noticed the black cat sitting behind a huge basket full of peacock feathers. The cat was listening as if he understood every word.
“I gather this woman wasn’t pregnant?” Mel asked. The image of a tall redhead burned into his brain. She kept showing up in the middle of baby stories. Lily Markey.
“No, she wasn’t. I mean if she was, she wasn’t showing. She was a slender, athletic woman. Tall, very striking. I had the impression that I’d seen her before and when I asked her about it, she got all huffy.” She shook her head. “Let me look up the other purchases.”
In a moment she had the list for five names, complete with addresses and telephone numbers. Mel instantly discounted two of the names because he knew the women—and he’d seen them with their new babies. Annie’s Boutique was obviously one shop where the women behind the men of Washington shopped.
“Thank you, Ms. Anlage,” he said. “You’ve been very helpful.”
“I just hope the mother is okay. You know, all of the women who come in here are so excited about their babies. I used to work in a department store, and some of the women who came in to buy baby things acted like they were going to prison. I—”
“Thanks for your help,” Mel said. He hurried out of the shop. He knew the kind of women Annie Anlage was talking about. He knew them well. His mother had been one, and as soon as she could dump her responsibility, she’d done so.
The lead he’d obtained wasn’t conclusively connected to Lily Markey. After all, there were thousands of slender, redheaded women with green eyes in Washington. But it was passing strange that wherever he turned in this case, Lily kept popping up. Maybe it was time to pay a visit to her place.
OKAY, CLOTILDE, now’s the time for kitty action. I heard everything Mel Haskin heard, and I watched his mind click to the same conclusion. Of course, he was slightly behind me, because cats are simply smarter than Homo sapiens. But he got to the end of the puzzle, nonetheless. Which means I need to re-evaluate all the data regarding baby David.
Lily Markey is involved in this. I can’t be positive, but I think she might have been the delivery girl. I do know she isn’t the baby’s mother. So who is? Maybe her sister? A friend? Someone she works with? How did she become involved in such a scheme?
There’s a phone book and now I have to find Lily’s address. For a kitty who’s only traveled in the back seat of a Rolls, Clotilde is going to learn the wonders of public transit today.
Time’s a wastin’. Here’s the address, 1414 Union Street. I know exactly where that is.
Dodge, Clotilde! Ms. Anlage has spotted you and she’s making those noises that humanoids make when they see something adorable. Watch out, my princess, or you’re going to be adopted. I’ve got the door, let’s make a break for freedom.
LILY EXAMINED the passport with a growing sense of satisfaction. It wasn’t even nine in the morning and the ball of freedom for Susie Bishop was already rolling. She had a fake passport under the name Sue Bristol, and she was headed for Heathrow Airport in London, where she would be met by an old friend of Lily’s, a woman who could help Susie build a new life.
“I’m afraid,” Susie said, looking at the passport in Lily’s hands. “Wayman will have someone at the airport watching for me. He knows I’m going to try and escape.”
“I don’t think he’ll expect you to go to Europe,” Lily said.
“You’re probably right about that.” But Susie’s voice belied the words she spoke. “Do you think we could call and check on David?”
It was the question Lily had been dreading. “I think it would be best if we didn’t.”
“You could say you were working on a story. I don’t want to talk to the Johnsons. I just want…”
“I know, Susie. You just want to make the connection, to know again that David is safe.” How was she ever going to help Susie let go of the child? “He is. I’m sure of it. And you have to be too.”
“I didn’t think it would be so hard.” She brushed fresh tears away. “How can I do this?”
Lily went to her and put her hands on her shoulders. “How can you not? What would happen if you went and got David? Where would you go? A single woman, you have a chance of escaping. Your husband will be looking for a pregnant woman or a woman with a child.” She didn’t bother to point out that Susie was going to have a hard time keeping herself together in a new life. The baby was far better off with the Johnsons. Susie knew it, too.
“Everything you say is true. It’s just that—this isn’t right.”
“Your other option is to press charges against your husband.” It was something they’d already discussed.
“And find myself declared an unfit mother. Or dead.”
Susie had made no bones about the fact that Wayman could destroy her reputation or even have her killed, and in such a way that he’d never be prosecuted for the crime. He had that kind of power. Susie wasn’t exaggerating.
“Your flight is at four.” Lily picked up the paperwork. “It’s all arranged. You’ll be fine. I know it.”
She
