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later, she almost felt sorry that she had been so hard on Cam when she saw him slumped in the plastic chair, head flopping into his hands, anguish in every line of his body.
    “Cam.” She tapped him on the shoulder. “Talk to me.”
    He raised his head, eyes already red-rimmed and swollen from tears.
    “She…she…it’s bad.”
    “Where is she?” Meredith hoped she sounded more confident than she felt. She’d never seen Cam like this. Even when Kristeene Bennett died, his eyes hadn’t held this kind of despondency.
    “She’s in surgery.” He ran a trembling hand through his tumble of dark hair.
    “Surgery?” Meredith gulped, afraid to ask the question. “And the baby?”
    “They’re doing an emergency C-section now.” Defeat weighted his shoulders. “Our chances aren’t very good.”
    “Not very good? For Kerris? For the baby?”
    “For either of them.” He dropped his head back into his hands. “Oh, God, Meredith. What if they don’t make it?”
    Meredith’s heart pounded in her chest so hard it hurt, like she couldn’t draw breath fast or deep enough. This was when Kerris’s mother should have been here to pray and believe with a mother’s defiant faith. But Kerris didn’t have that, and Meredith felt her absence.
    “Cam, have you called Mama Jess?”
    “No.” Cam sniffed, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “I didn’t…I don’t have her number.”
    Meredith pulled her phone from her purse and searched her contacts. “Dammit.”
    “What?” Cam raised his head again to peer at her through the hair drooping in his eyes.
    “I don’t have her number either.” She sucked her teeth in frustration. “How is that even possible?”
    “You think it’ll be in Kerris’s phone?”
    “I’m sure it would be.” She clicked through her contacts once more, even though she knew it was pointless.
    “I have her purse.” Cam reached behind the chair to pass the bag Meredith recognized immediately as Kerris’s. “The cops gave it to me.”
    She grabbed it, rifling through the contents until she found Kerris’s phone. She scrolled down to find Mama Jess’s number, pausing over another contact along the way. Trisha McAvery. She recognized the name. Kerris had told her Walsh’s assistant, Trisha McAvery, admired her bracelet and was taking it to a friend in New York who might be interested in buying.
    She called Mama Jess, providing the few details she could before urging the older woman to come. Meredith glanced up at Cam, head still in his hand, foot tapping a restless rhythm on the waiting room floor. Meredith stalked around the corner and down to the ladies’ restroom, slipping into the handicapped stall. She started dialing, letting the door slam shut behind her. After three rings, Meredith was about to hang up or hope for a voice mail.
    “Hello?” a sleep-heavy voice asked from the other end. “Kerris?”
    Trisha must have Kerris programmed in her phone, too.
    “No, this is actually Kerris’s best friend, Meredith.”
    “Do you have any idea what time it is, Meredith? It’s freaking two o’clock in the morning.”
    “Sorry about that.” Meredith bit her lip, hoping this wasn’t crazy. “I wouldn’t call if it wasn’t an emergency. And Walsh’s number isn’t in Kerris’s phone.”
    There was a loaded silence before she heard Trisha speak again, her tone more alert.
    “Has something happened to Kerris, Meredith?”
    “Yes.”
    “Oh, God. Is she okay?”
    “No.”
    “Is she alive?”
    “She is, but it’s bad.” Meredith swiped at an errant tear. “I thought…well, she and Walsh…they’re—”
    “Yes, I understand and you’re right.” It sounded like Trisha was now in motion. “Walsh would want to know. Tell me everything.”
    *  *  *
    Three bangs on his door. Insistent. Successive.
    Walsh creaked his eyes open, sat up, and glanced around his bedroom, struggling to orient himself. He’d been in negotiations with Sheikh Kassim all day about a