‘Yeah, I know, right?’ He puts his elbows on the counter. ‘I’m the one who found the toy stroller too. On the highway. I heard it on the radio and later I went out and had a ciggie and I saw it there. I didn’t touch it. Fingerprints.’
‘Fingerprints,’ echoes Eloise, the machine finally telling her the transaction is approved.
‘You need a receipt?’ he asks, tearing the paper off.
She shakes her head, and he presses the no button. ‘Anyhow,’ he says, ‘probably too late. He’d have done away with her by now, I figure.’
Eloise remembers Amber’s frozen eyes, her distracted waiting for the phone to ring.
She should really call Amber’s mum. First thing in the morning.
Approaching her house, the kitchen light is still on. Eloise’s heart skips with panic. Her mother meets her at the door. ‘You d
