“Camille sat in her car in the prison parking lot. She looked up at the tall fir trees surrounding the barbed wire enclosure and began to formulate a possible plan to find the missing baby. How the hell did the husband manage to dodge security at the hospital? She plugged in her phone and dialed her private investigator, Trish Seaholm, who picked up on the first ring.

“I’ve been trying to reach you!” Trish nearly shouted. “I followed the husband of that new divorce client of yours, and you’re right—the jackass just walked out of the bank with a huge wad of cash. I stood right behind him in line and watched him pocket the dough.”

Camille ignored Trish’s jackpot. “We have a new case.” She tripped over her words. “Our client’s husband kidnapped her newborn baby from the hospital. We have to find her.” She pulled out of the parking lot and headed down the country road that wound through the forest toward State Route 3 on the Kitsap Peninsula.

“When did it happen, and at what hospital?” Trish was all business.

“About seven years ago.”

“Wait. What?” Trish was clearly deflated. “You want me to find a missing kid on a cold case from more than half a decade ago?”

“Yep. This is so screwed up. Since the mom was a prisoner, she could only stay with her baby for a day or so. But hours after she gave birth, the baby disappeared. The baby’s name is Willow.”

“Prison? What are you talking about?”

Camille pulled up to a stop sign and noticed that a string of client texts was downloading. “Can you and Gigi meet me at my place for dinner? There’s an issue of DNA involved in this, so I’m hoping your doctor girlfriend can help. I gotta hop off and answer some calls.”

“Sure. Prison? Really? Can’t wait. See you around six-ish?”

Camille looked at her watch. “Better make it seven—I’m heading toward the Narrows Bridge, and traffic might be tight this time of day.”

Copyright © 2025 by Amanda DuBois