She wondered if he’d remember his mother later in life, and how those memories might surface. Would he be standing in the office of his law firm someday and suddenly remember a woman bending over his crib, a woman who looked nothing like the mother who’d raised him?

Bev felt melancholy imagining how unsettling that would be, so she tried to shrug it off. He was young enough that he’d forget, she told herself. She couldn’t recall anything before the age of five. He’d be fine. Just like beautiful little Mary Jane, who was happy so long as she had a comfortable lap to climb into and a warm smile to gaze up at.

The phone rang. Muting the television, Beverly reached over to pick up the handset and almost knocked over the rickety side table. “You’d think we could get some decent furniture after all the money he’s made,” she grumbled but managed to right the table and improve her tone before answering. “Hello?”

“The deal busted,” Peccavi said.

Beverly’s ulcer complained as her stomach tightened involuntarily. “Which deal?”

“Which deal do you think? That cheap bastard in Boston won’t pay what Billy’s worth.”

“What about his wife? Can’t you get to her?”

“I was hoping she’d soften him up, but they saw some show on black market babies and started asking too many questions. They didn’t think I’d be able to deliver paperwork that could withstand close scrutiny, which is bullshit. Anyway, I had to cut them loose.”

“What does that mean?”

“I have to find a new buyer,” he snapped.

“But Billy matched their order. He’s got the brown hair, the green eyes—”

“There’re a lot of couples out there who’d be interested in a boy of his caliber and, believe me, we’ll end up getting more for him than those tight bastards were willing to pay. Maybe we’ll get as much as we got for the girl last week.”

Bev watched Billy drive his metal car around the coffee table. “You think so?”

Sometimes when they landed such a windfall there was a bonus in it for the workers.

Bev could use a bonus. Phillip’s car was on its last leg. And Dustin’s doctor had recently informed her that his treatments were going up again.

“Why not? Roger called a few minutes ago. An infertile doctor and his wife have ordered a baby boy and a girl toddler. Roger’s going to try and talk them into switching genders and taking what we’ve got.”

“You don’t think the other couple will come back for Billy?”

“No. They don’t have the guts to go through with it. They’re too scared.”

“But this other deal could take a while.” Bev didn’t want to look after Billy anymore. He reminded her of what Dustin had been like at that age, which threatened a painful parting when the time came.

“That’s why we pay you the big bucks, Bev. You’ll take care of him until he’s placed.”

Big bucks… Peccavi was the only one making big bucks. He paid her as much as he had to—and no more—in order to keep her doing what she did. He took her for granted, but she’d worked for him so long she probably couldn’t get another job.

She’d trained as a nurse, but that was years ago, when her kids were small. She’d have to retrain if she wanted to get back into the medical field, and even then the younger applicants would have a decided advantage. She’d wind up working in a nursing home somewhere, barely making enough to pay the mortgage. Wages like that wouldn’t cover the experimental treatments that were Dustin’s only hope.

“What about the Stratford woman?” she asked. “Have you found her?”

“Gruber’s taking care of that.”

Billy brought Beverly his toy car. He wanted her to play with him, so she rolled it absently around the table. “Why him?”

“Because he doesn’t have anyone expecting him for Christmas.”

“And if he screws up?”

“He won’t. Anyone who can snatch kids as easily as he can should be able to handle a woman.”

Peccavi hadn’t been able to handle her, but Beverly bit her tongue so she wouldn’t say that. She smiled every time she remembered the sight of him at her back door in the middle of last night, covered in mud and limping after trying to catch Jasmine at the hotel.

“So what do you want me to do?” she asked.

“Just stay with the kids. I’ve got to get home.”

Fortunately, his job gave him the perfect excuse for working late hours. And that uniform even provided a nice cover for any injuries he might sustain. “What about Dustin?”

“What about him?”

“I don’t like leaving him alone on Christmas.”

“You’ve got to be able to work. What do you think I pay you for?”

She fumbled around in her purse, searching for her antacids. “I have more than this job to worry about. I have a sick boy who needs me!”

“This job is what takes care of that sick boy, who isn’t a boy at all. And don’t forget it. Besides, Phillip’s there, isn’t he?”

Phillip wouldn’t look after Dustin very well. He wasn’t himself these days.

He’d been acting strange ever since he’d had to deliver that little redheaded girl—

Bev had called her Christy—to her new family in Florida. He’d been gone for two weeks and refused to explain where he’d gone. Then there was the cellar when he’d been forced to shove the Stratford woman inside. That had upset him again….

“Yes.” She found her medication and took two tablets.

“They’ll survive. We do what we have to.”

He was going home to spend Christmas with his family, wasn’t he? “Can I take the kids home with me? Just this one time?”

“And let your nosy neighbor see you with them?”

“Billy’s from Connecticut. No one’s looking for him here. And we don’t have to worry about the baby. She won’t even be reported missing.”

“No. It’s a chance we can’t take. Our system works because we stick to the plan, and we never make exceptions. Got it?”

Beverly rubbed her burning stomach, wanting to tell Peccavi to go to hell. But she didn’t dare. She needed him too badly. “Got it,” she grumbled and hung up.

“Mama?” Billy tapped the phone with his pudgy hand. “Mama?”

“No, that wasn’t your mama.” Beverly went to the kitchen and came back with a cookie. “But you’ll meet your new mama soon,” she said and felt her heart melt a bit more as he smiled and clapped at the treat she held out to him.




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