Jack closed the door behind him. "First thing? Before replacing his gun? Should have grabbed hers. Can't be unarmed. Not for a second. Better yet? Backup gun. Discussed that, didn't we?"

"How did you find me?"

"GPS. Put it on your cell phone. Figured that's one thing you wouldn't trash. Supposed to be a receiver, too. Piss-poor one."

"Probably interference from the cell."

"Gadgets." He shook his head as he walked over to look at the bodies. "Quick cleanup. Then go. You start – " He turned to me. "Am I allowed to help now?"

I tried to gauge whether he was angry or even annoyed. Impossible to tell, as always, so I said, "I'd appreciate it. Thanks."

There wasn't much to clean. I hadn't removed my gloves. Hadn't been hit by a bullet. Hadn't taken off my wig. My only concern was footprints in the dust that would suggest a fourth party to this lethal spat. A flashlight sweep of the floor, though, showed lots of prints, from lots of boots, presumably the people who'd been using the warehouse as an illegal dump site. I erased the most obvious of mine, and I'd discard the boots. Standard procedure.

As we were leaving, I looked back at the bodies.

"So you were outside listening?" I asked.

"Nah. GPS fucked up, too. Goddamned gadgets. Was at the mark's house. Lost you after that."

Was that the truth? Or did he just not want to take the wind out of my sails by telling me I'd had backup the whole time? As we circled through the shadows to the car, I decided it didn't matter. If he had been there, he'd stayed back, trusting me to handle it. That was enough.

Since I'd taken the rental, Jack had commandeered Evelyn's car, and parked it five blocks from the warehouse. He wanted the rental returned – another step in dissociating ourselves from the scene – so he followed me to drop that off.

Once in the car with him, I finally had the chance to explain what had happened. He'd figured out some of it, but was missing chunks, from the poor reception and from not being able to listen until he'd ditched Quinn, meaning he hadn't heard my playground meeting with MacIver.

When he found out, he cursed Evelyn. Not that he thought she'd done anything wrong intentionally. She just hadn't been careful enough, presuming that because it was clearly the correct client, then it had to be the correct job.

"Don't call her on it, okay?" I said. "I'm done with her and I want a clean break."

"Sure about that?"

"About wanting -?"

"Being done with her? That Contra-whatever lead?" His gaze bored into me as he idled at a light. "You're sure?"

As I stared down the dark street, I realized I wasn't. That morning the answer had been clear. I wanted nothing to do with Evelyn. A sensible, cool-headed, logical decision not to deal with a woman I didn't trust. But now I wondered…

Was it really logical? Or was I just telling myself that to avoid the truth – that I didn't want to hear her offer, didn't dare take the opportunity to discover what I was, what drove me, where I drew the line…

"I-I'm not sure."

"Think about it." He glanced over. "But not indefinitely. Need to give her a deadline. A week. Can you do that?"

I nodded.

"And this…?" he said. "The case?"

"Well, obviously I haven't disbanded the operation. We've got two other couples who knew what was going on, and more who've paid them – including one that has a child they think is rightfully theirs. I have names for the two couples, but they'll likely run for the hills when Keyes or MacIver don't call back tonight to say everything's been taken care of." I took a deep breath. "But that's not my concern. I can't let it be. I've got my proof on the downloaded files. Time to turn over the evidence and back out."

"You okay with that?"

I took a few long minutes considering it, then said, "Yes, I'm okay with that."

Two days later, I was back at Sammi's grave, sitting on the ground, knees pulled up, the setting sun casting an eerie yellow glow over the forest as I told her what had happened. I could imagine what she'd say about that, hearing it as clearly as if she'd been standing there, arms crossed, shaking her head.

Do you know how stupid you look? I can't hear you, you know. A total waste of your time, but I guess if it makes you feel better…

Yes, it did make me feel better. The case hadn't wrapped up as neatly as I would have liked, with every baby returned, every person involved facing jail time, and I needed this, to forget what hadn't gone right and concentrate on what had.

The case was in the hands of the police now. Quinn had advised me on how to compile and submit the evidence anonymously. We'd left Detroit that night, before the bodies had been found. There was no mention of those bodies in our report. Let the police find them and work out the scenario, preferably one that indicted their anonymous tipster only as a potential catalyst for the deaths – that the group had discovered they were about to be investigated, and in arguing over what to do, had turned on each other.

"There's always a chance they'll trace Destiny back to you and she'll go to the Draytons, but I knew you wouldn't want that, so I didn't point them your way."

Good.

"She'll go to a family in Michigan. Real adopters who've gone through a shitload of screening and are dying for a little girl just like her."

I imagined her muttering about city yuppies raising her daughter.

"They won't be as good as you would have been, but they'll be the next best thing. She'll have everything you ever wanted for her, Sammi. She got out, just like you wanted."

As for Deanna's baby, Connor, he'd had been found and gone to her sister, Denise Noyes. I didn't mention that. Sammi wouldn't have cared about the fate of some baby and girl she'd never met. I felt better knowing Connor had been found and Denise had both her answers and her nephew.

I squinted through the trees at the sun, then back to her grave – a leaf-covered pile lost in the forest. "I could find a way to direct the police investigation to you. To get you a real grave, in the town cemetery."

Oh, sure, just give the Draytons a road map to Destiny while youre at it. And for what? A place in the corner of the town cemetery? A charity case funeral? The smallest stone they can get away with? She snorted. I'm fine here. Let them think we both got out.

"That's what I thought you'd want." I pushed to my feet. "I brought you something. No, don't worry, it's not flowers. I always wondered why we leave flowers, whether the person liked them or not. When my cousin died, I used to leave magazines at her grave. She loved magazines. Seventeen, Cosmo when she could sneak it past her mom… They made me stop leaving them, saying it was littering the cemetery, but I think they just figured it was kind of weird."

Huh, really? Go figure.

"Yes, 'normal' and I have never been on close terms, as you probably figured out long ago. But I did bring something for you."

I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out the photo of Sammi and Destiny I'd taken from her room. I knelt and started laying it on the ground faceup, then turned it over, facing her, and put a stone on top. I stood and brushed off my jeans.

"So… I guess I just wanted to let you know how it all worked out."

Fine. Just don't expect me to say thank you.

I didn't.