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forward, his face registering the kind of excited look he usually got when they scored a dime bag.
    “‘Course they want the kid.” She’d exhaled a blue ribbon of smoke that curled toward the ceiling of their studio apartment. “They paid for it, didn’t they?”
    “Not yet, they didn’t.” He’d chuckled and flattened his hands on the table. Then he told her about the plan. Candy would meet with the couple, tell them she was a little low on cash. “Hint around, you know. Like if you don’t get the money you can’t think about giving up the kid.”
    “Okay.” Candy rubbed her arms and gave a few slow nods of her head. “I think I’m seeing it.”
    “Yeah, and then…” Dave had taken a drag from her joint and held the smoke several beats. He raised one eyebrow, slow and sarcastic-like. “If they cough up a few thousand, we wait a few days and tell ‘em we need more.”
    Candy had worried about that. Not because of her conscience but because it sounded almost illegal. “You don’t think the cops could get involved, do ya?”
    “Nah; the cops got better things to do. Welfare’s just glad we’re getting rid of a kid this time.”
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    Candy had liked the way he said we, because as far as she knew Dave was the baby’s father. But she couldn’t be sure. Lots of crazy nights back before she got pregnant. But this ownership thing was new to Candy. A man happy to lay claim to one of her kids. Unless…
    She twisted her expression. “You ain’t thinkin’ of keeping half the money, are you?”
    Dave had cast her a look that defined disgust. “Of course!” He rattled off a few choice words. “I’m working for it, right?” He waved his hands at himself. “This is me sitting here, right?”
    Candy had thought about that and figured it was okay. The idea was his, after all, and if he helped collect the money the least she could do was split it with him. “Okay.” She’d slapped her hand on the table. “I’m in.”
    The memory died there as Candy stared out the windshield from the backseat of the speeding car. “Hey, Scary, slow down, will ya? I’m knocked up, remember?”
    “Ah, shut up.” Scary was Larry Brown—Dave’s buddy from the penitentiary. He turned to Dave and laughed out loud. Funny stuff, telling a woman to shut up.
    “Listen, Scary, I’m havin’ second thoughts.”
    Dave’ glared at her over his shoulder. “Second thoughts? Look, Candy, we’re in this thing. You and me and Scary. No turning back now.”
    When the money moved from a few thousand to maybe ten thousand or more, they’d brought Scary Larry in. Scary was a forger from the old days—documents, birth certificates, driver’s licenses. You name it; he could forge it. Scary had a plan that took the baby’s price tag to a place Candy hadn’t dreamed.
    Get the couple to pay everything they could pay. Then turn at the last minute and sell the baby to someone else. Forge a paper that made it look like the couple had changed their minds about the baby. Move a few towns down the road, hook up with another lawyer, another rich couple, and make a flat-out killing when it was all said and done.
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    REUNION
    Twenty, maybe twenty-five thousand dollars total. Twice the money for a few easy meetings in the gravel lot of the local park. Scary only wanted five for his part, so that still left maybe ten thousand each for her and Dave.
    Still… Dave turned back toward the front and huffed. “Second thoughts! You’re crazy, woman, you know that? This is the best thing we’ve come across in a long time.”
    Candy stared at her big belly and she could hear the lady. What was her name?
    Erin something? The lady had tears in her eyes when she talked about having a little girl, like having babies was some hard thing for her. That’s what the social worker had said, that being rich didn’t mean you could automatically have babies.
    The lady in the van still deserved the kid, even if they could make a killing switching