Made to Be Broken (Nadia Stafford 2)

More noise, then the slam of the front door.

"Who's got the most experience tailing?" I asked.

"Probably Quinn," Jack said. "Switch."

We hoped Leslie was heading to see whoever had sold her the baby. Instead, she drove to an Applebee's down the road and met a man, presumably her husband, who hugged her and took the baby carrier. They went inside. Talking in a public place. Smart.

"Too bad we couldn't get a bug into her purse," I said.

"Did," Jack said. "But she left it behind."

Leslie carried only a diaper bag - probably having been too rushed to grab her purse. Damn.

I followed them inside, hoping to get a seat near enough to overhear their conversation. No such luck. Though it was still early for dinner, the place was filling fast.

I did manage to walk near the table, after Leslie had taken the baby from her snowsuit and hat. If asked earlier, I'd have said I'd never recognize Destiny - all babies looked the same to me. But the moment I saw that baby I knew, without a doubt, that Miranda Keyes was Destiny Ernst.

I retreated to the car, where we waited for close to two hours before the Keyeses finally emerged, hand in hand, Kenneth carrying the baby seat.

"Did he convince her she's overreacting?" I murmured. "Or that he'll take care of it?"

"Could go either way," Quinn said.

"Maybe I was wrong, getting you guys to back down. Maybe you should have pressed harder. Been more specific. More threatening." I glanced at Jack. "Okay, I'll stop fretting."

"Never said that."

"You don't need to."

We watched them get into their separate cars.

"So who do we follow?" I asked.

"Dad," Quinn said.

It didn't matter. They went to the same place. Home.

Jack and I spent the next hour monitoring the house as Quinn returned the rental car. Then Quinn caught a cab back, and we waited two more hours. Leslie put the baby to bed, the couple talked about their respective days, watched a pretaped episode of Desperate Housewives, and, at ten-thirty, headed off to bed without a single exchange about their visitors from earlier.

Quinn yawned. "Wake me up if they start having sex."

I cuffed him across the chest.

He opened one eye. "We probably wouldn't even notice anyway. Something tells me that bed doesn't see a lot of action. This has to be the most boring evening I've ever eavesdropped on. Are we done yet?"

Jack nodded.

So much for our hopes that the Keyeses would contact the Byrony Agency, spilling the details I needed to prove they'd bought their new daughter. There was still some hope from that quarter, but they were sleeping very soundly for a couple that believed their new baby was about to be ripped from their arms.

On then to the break-in portion of the evening. We stayed away until nearly midnight, only to discover the dessert shop was long closed, the theater presumably closed that night. And, with the actors taking the night off, our homeless guy was, too.

We arrived just as the cleaners were leaving. Twenty minutes later, we went in.

Chapter Forty

Jack had decided he'd stand guard, since Quinn and I had more experience conducting searches. He did, however, provide locksmith services, while Quinn and I stood at opposite ends of the block, whistling when the coast was clear, and ready to whistle again if a car approached. But the night was quiet, and the streets empty, and we stayed silent. By 12:25, we were in.

We started by downloading files. After Evelyn booted us out, I couldn't very well ask for tips on bypassing computer security, but Quinn knew how, and even gave a quick demonstration, promising more later.