“It’s so beautiful,” Emily whispered, walking to the little window seat and settling on the cushion. There were still marks where the crib and changing table had stood. When the Bakers found the baby seat on their doorstep, had they brought her in here to sleep? No, Emily decided. Not that first night. They’d probably held the baby until the sun came up, amazed she was theirs. Scared, too. They’d probably made plans to move that very night to avoid questions and to make sure the baby wouldn’t be taken away.
Suddenly, Emily knew something for sure: The Bakers had done everything they could for the baby. They’d uprooted their lives just to ensure they could keep her, her happiness meaning more than their community, their home. That was worth more than any amount of money. She had made the right choice giving her daughter—Violet—to them.
“Hey,” Aria said soothingly, noticing Emily’s tear-streaked face. She wrapped her arms around Emily and squeezed tight. Emily hugged back, and they remained that way for several minutes. She felt happy and sad at the same time. It was wonderful to know that the baby had such a loving home, but she hated that she still didn’t know where the Bakers had gone.
Emily broke from Aria’s embrace and started down the stairs to find the realtor, suddenly fueled with purpose. Sandra was in the kitchen, rearranging papers in a binder.
“Excuse me,” she called. Sandra turned, a plastic smile frozen on her face. “The family that lived here before. Do you know what happened to them?”
“If I recall, they left in early September, I believe.” Sandra flipped through a file folder containing information about the house. “Their names were Charles and Lizzie Baker.”
“Do you have a forwarding address?” Emily asked.
Sandra shook her head. “Were you the one who e-mailed me about this?”
“E-mail?” Emily raised an eyebrow. “No . . .”
Sandra whipped out her BlackBerry and scrolled through it. “That’s funny. I got an e-mail asking the same question. Someone else was eager to know where the Bakers went, too.”
Aria, who had just arrived in the kitchen, coughed. “Do you remember who sent the e-mail?”
Sandra stared at her BlackBerry. “I swore I had it on here, but maybe I deleted it. It was a woman’s name, definitely. Maybe it started with a G?”
“Gayle Riggs?” Aria blurted.
Sandra’s face lit up. “Yes, I believe that’s it! Do you know her?”
Emily and Aria exchanged a haunted look. Emily had never told Gayle who she’d originally chosen to give the baby to. The adoption agency would never have given out that information, either. What if she’d found out, somehow? What if A had told her? And what if—Emily’s heart started to pound—Gayle was trying to track the baby down?
Suddenly, a ping sounded from inside Aria’s bag. She pulled it out and looked at her phone. “Hanna says she’s been trying to contact you, Em.”
Emily reached into her pocket for her phone and studied the dark screen. “The battery’s dead.”
Aria’s eyes were still on her phone. She hit a button and gasped. “Look at this.” She passed it to Emily. Tell Em it’s urgent, a text from Hanna said. I think Gayle is after her baby. Call me ASAP.
“Oh my God,” Emily whispered.
Another ping sounded as a new message arrived on Aria’s phone. The sender was a jumble of letters and numbers. Aria clapped her hand to her mouth. Emily’s heart thudded fast as she read the words.
Guess Emily’s not the only one looking for that little bundle of joy. Who’s going to get there first? —A
19
SECRET AGENT HANNA
The thing about camo, Hanna realized, was that it was really ugly. There should be Louis Vuitton camo or camo that actually complemented one’s skin tone. It wasn’t like she was hiding out in the green and brown woods, after all. She was lurking in the King James Mall.
It was a little later on Saturday afternoon, and Hanna had just put on her first—and last—camouflage outfit to kick off Operation Figure Out If Colleen Is Hiding Something. She’d bought the outfit at the Rosewood Army/Navy, a terrifying store full of gas masks, grenade holders, unflattering combat boots, and other sundries she hoped to never see again, except maybe on CNN. She’d also picked up a field scope that had scratches on it (probably from some scary war), night-vision goggles, and a platoon helmet, just in case she had to do a commando roll or jump out of a moving car. Perhaps it was overkill to buy all that equipment to spy on a girl who’d probably be delighted if she knew Hanna had taken such an acute interest in her, but Hanna thought it would help her get in the mood.
Now, she was crouching behind a large fake plant in the middle of the esplanade and peering through the binoculars at Colleen and Mike strolling into Victoria’s Secret. Hanna felt a moment of misgiving. Was it weird that she was doing this? It was sort of like she was becoming an A herself. But then, maybe Gayle was right—maybe Colleen had a secret she didn’t know about. Everyone did.
Hanna checked her watch. She would give it another half hour, she decided, and then call Emily again. As for the Colleen thing, it wasn’t like she and Gayle were on the same team or anything—A just had a good idea for once. All she needed to do was unearth some embarrassing secret of Colleen’s to turn Mike off her for good and kick her back to dork-dom where she belonged.
There was only one problem: so far, Colleen seemed like an open book. Hanna had peeked in Colleen’s car in the parking garage, but she kept it tidy and boring. She’d followed the couple to Otter, the best boutique in the mall, and watched as Hanna’s favorite salesgirl showed Colleen a brand-new style of James jeans that had just come in—jeans that Hanna was supposed to see first. Traitor.