Meredith’s face tenses, and for an instant I realize I’m losing her. The money sounds good, of course, but it’s another child to worry about on top of her other two children.
“Five hundred.”
Her eyes go wide after I say the words, and her mouth drops open.
“Five hundred?”
“Yes. Three hundred now, two hundred when I get back. All you need to do is feed her and bathe her and clothe her. That’s it. I’ll be back in a few hours, and then you’ll never see the baby again. And this whole thing will just be our little secret.”
She bites her bottom lip, still clearly conflicted, but the promise of five hundred dollars is too much to pass up.
Meredith takes the grocery bag from me with her free hand, and gives me the smile she uses on the drunks at the bar when she’s fishing for an extra tip.
“See ya in a few hours.”
Six
The Alden Public Library sits near the heart of town. A squat brick building with just one floor, it keeps minimal hours as not many people in town utilize the books and DVDs and free Internet.
I volunteer at the library a couple days a week, mostly helping to restock shelves. It gives me something to do during the day. Otherwise, I’d sit alone in my apartment and stare at the wall and think about things I don’t want to think about.
The library keeps short hours on Saturdays—opens at nine, closes at noon—so I pull into the parking lot right at nine o’clock on the dot. Thanks to Meredith, I’ve had time to return to the apartment to take a shower and change into some fresh clothes. My hair is still damp as I step out of the car and make my way toward the entrance.
Despite the fact the time is now 9:01, the door is locked.
I lean close to the window in the door. The place is dark inside. Nobody around.
“Jen?”
Gloria Ruskin’s voice drifts from behind me, and I turn slightly to glance over my shoulder to watch the old woman shuffle up the walkway.
“Good morning, Gloria.”
She squints at me.
“Are you feeling okay?”
“Why do you ask?”
“You’re wearing a sweatshirt. It’s the third week of June.”
The sweatshirt, of course, is to conceal the SIG I still have pressed against the small of my back, but Gloria doesn’t need to know this.
“I haven’t been feeling so good the past couple days. Think I might be coming down with a cold.”
Gloria’s hand immediately flies to her face.
“Then stay away from me, young lady. I don’t want to get sick.”
“Don’t worry, I promise not to sneeze on you. Is everything okay? You’re usually here before nine.”
I step away as Gloria approaches the door, a ring of keys in hand. She sighs as she slides a key in the lock and pulls open the door.
“Howard wasn’t doing so well this morning. I thought I should maybe stay home with him, but … you know how it is.”
Howard is Gloria’s husband, a sweet old man who’s been battling Parkinson’s the past three years. Both of them are retired, children and grandchildren spread out around the country. Gloria runs the library with a sort of strict dedication that makes me envious. She’s here every day, from open to close.
“If Howard isn’t feeling well, why don’t you take the day off? I can cover for you.”
The moment I say the words I regret them, as clearly I have much bigger things to worry about. Still, Gloria is one of my favorite people in Alden, and hence so is her husband whom I’ve only met once, and if Gloria needs to take care of her husband, then so be it. Besides, today the library is only open for three hours. It would give me more than enough time to do what I need to do and then close up.
Gloria waves a dismissive hand as she leads me into the library, flicking on light switches as she goes.
“That’s very kind of you, Jen, but Howard will be okay.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, yes, I’m sure.”
The door behind us opens, and Mr. Tucker enters. He wears an Astros baseball cap and lifts his hand in a quick hello as he breezes toward the table of four computers.
Gloria calls over to him.
“Good morning, Frank. I haven’t had a chance to turn on the computers yet. Do you mind waiting a minute?”
Mr. Tucker lifts his hand again in acknowledgment and takes what I’ve come to think of as Mr. Tucker’s Seat at the computers. He’s almost as old as Gloria’s husband. A widower with no kids, he spends most of his time at the library watching YouTube videos. His favorites are cat and dog videos. Sometimes when I’m restocking books I’ll hear him chuckling at one wacky video or another.
I follow Gloria into the office where she hits the button to provide power to the computers out in the main room.
Gloria says, “What brings you in this morning, anyway?”
“My Internet’s acting weird at home. I was hoping to use your computer here for a couple of minutes. I’d rather not deal with Mr. Tucker out there, if at all possible.”
“Certainly. Just do me one favor.”
“What’s that?”
“Wipe the keyboard and mouse down with a Clorox wipe once you’re done.”
The great thing about Gloria—she likes me so she doesn’t care what I do. I’m always on time, always clean up after myself, never give her or anybody at the library attitude. Her trust in me is so high she’d probably give me her social security number if I asked for it.
As Gloria heads back out into the main room, I sit down at her desk and turn on the computer. It’s an ancient PC, and takes forever to power up, the gremlins in the computer box clicking and tapping away as the screen runs through its usual nonsense before the Windows logo finally appears.
The real reason I want to use Gloria’s computer is because I’d installed the Tor browser on it several months
