Lost Innocents by Patricia MacDonald Page A

at the various cunning outfits.
    “Does he like giraffes?” the girl asked, pulling out a pale green sweatsuit adorned with jungle animals.
    Ellen gazed at the little suit. “He loves all animals,” she said.
    “What about cars? Is he into cars yet?” the girl queried, liberating a royal blue and canary yellow combination with a race car motif.
    “He’d like that one, too,” Ellen said.
    The girl went down the row, selecting a half dozen outfits, all of which Ellen agreed to purchase. Pleased but a little surprised by the malleability of her customer, the salesgirl brought them back to the counter to tote up the prices.
    “His mother’s going to be thrilled with all these,” the salesgirl said.
    Ellen looked at the girl warily. “What do you mean?”
    “Well, I mean you’ve got a whole wardrobe here, practically. And all very nice outfits. If there’s anything she already has, or wants to exchange, just tell her to bring it in. We will cheerfully exchange it.”
    “That’s nice. I’ll…tell her,” said Ellen.
    “What’s his name?” the salesgirl asked.
    Ellen squared her shoulders. “Ken,” she said. “His name is Ken.”
    “That’s a nice name,” the girl said placidly, laying the clothes on the counter. She removed the tags from each outfit with a tiny nail scissors. “Which card will you be using?”
    “Cash,” Ellen said hurriedly, digging through her purse for her wallet. She took out the newspaper and laid it on the counter, the headline and pictures facing up. At last she found her wallet, while the girl carefully folded her purchases and placed them in a pale blue shopping bag festooned with curling white ribbons.
    The salesgirl glanced down at the paper. “Terrible, isn’t it?” she said, shaking her head. “About that missing baby….”
    Ellen looked up at her, startled. “What?” she asked. “Oh yes,” and she handed the girl a wad of bills, knocking the paper to the floor in her nervous haste. She bent over to pick it up.
    “Who would do such a thing?” the girl said, shaking her head as she took the bills over to the register. “It’s unbelievable. Those parents must be beside themselves. I don’t know what this world is coming to.” She spoke in the world-weary tones of the elderly. “I don’t understand it,” she went on absently as she entered the prices from the tags in her hand into the register.
    The girl finished her transaction and turned to give Ellen the receipt. The customer and the package were gone. The salesgirl frowned and shook her head. She knew what would happen. Sometime next week the mother would come in, looking to exchange four of the outfits without the receipt. “Why are people so careless?” she asked aloud to the empty store. Shaking her head, she picked up her feather duster from behind the counter and started to flick it over the display of photo frames. As she dusted, she suddenly noticed the expensive-looking, cognac-colored wallet lying on the counter. The doorbell jingled and the salesgirl looked up, expecting to see the woman, who had surely realized her mistake and returned. A pretty young blond woman came into the store, pushing a stroller, and began to browse as the salesgirl picked up the wallet and looked inside.

Chapter Nine
    M addy walked down the hospital corridor, looking at the numbers above the rooms. She had dropped Bonnie and Sean off at the hospital this morning and had now come back, as promised, to pick them up. Maddy stifled a yawn. It had been a long night, with Sean fussing and Maddy hardly able to sleep for worrying about the insurance situation. She felt completely exhausted by the events of the last few days, she wished she could just go away somewhere and hide from the world. Unfortunately, she did not see any hope for escape on the see on horizon.
    At room 304 she stopped, craning her neck to look inside. There were no visitors in the room. The man in the first bed was sitting up, reading a newspaper. He