“No!” Myra snapped again. “I suggest you get rid of those chains around your neck if we’re going to be breaking and entering. I can hear you clanking when I’m a mile away.”

“You’re such a poop,” Annie sniffed. “What else, Charles?”

“There’s not much that’s going to happen through the night. Our surveillance is ongoing. I have a conference call scheduled with Lizzie and Maggie in the morning. Ted is going to see the Dawsons and the Evanses first thing in the morning to prepare them for whatever plan Maggie and Lizzie decide to run with. We don’t want to tip our hand this early in the game.”

“What about Adel Newsom? Who’s checking her out?” Myra asked.

“I have it all right here,” Charles said, tapping a dark blue folder. “She’s a one-lawyer office with two paralegals and two secretaries. She does not do pro bono work. Never has. She drives a high-end car, wears only designer clothing, has a luxurious apartment complete with terrace. She likes fine wine and gourmet food. She also has a summer house at Rehoboth Beach. She spends many weekends there. Mr. Snowden’s people visited her office here and her apartment and found nothing in either place to help us. I would like her to realize her security has been penetrated at the same time Baron Bell realizes it. That’s when the rats start to scurry. Then Maggie follows up with her headline, whatever it turns out to be. At that point, it’s all in your hands, ladies.”

“Do we know who has the Evanses’ baby?” Annie asked.

“Not at this moment in time, but we should know sometime within the next few days. We know where the twins are at the moment. By the way, the twins’ names are Robert and Rita. The Evanses named their baby Benjamin. They called him Benjy. If it looks like the Dawsons’ surrogate is going to flee, Mr. Snowden will deter her in some manner.”

“I suggest we adjourn for the evening,” Annie said as she offered up an elaborate yawn. Myra looked at her suspiciously, but Annie was oblivious to her friend’s stare. “’Night, you two. I’m so happy for both of you. I can hardly wait for the wedding.”

“Will you help me, Annie?” Myra whispered. “I want it all to be perfect.”

“Absolutely,” Annie said as she pulled on her boots. “We’re all so happy for you. The girls were worrying about what color you want them to wear.”

“Ice blue,” Myra answered. “What color do you want to wear, Annie?”

“Well, I love purple, but that might clash with the girls. Whatever works for you, dear. I’ll see you in the morning.”