Blumenthal stands up. “Stop. Stop right there, Ms. Ryuan.” And, yes, he is speaking in a fairly loud voice.

“No. I won’t stop. This is a good plan. And I know that deep inside you think it’s good, too.” I stand up to face him.

But he’s on a roll. He keeps talking. “No. I absolutely do not think it’s a good plan. Deep inside me or just on my surface, I do not think it’s a good plan. It’s stupid. It’s foolish. It’s unprofessional. These Russians aren’t amateurs. This isn’t a TV show. This isn’t a movie. Don’t you think the Russian couple are part of a larger group? How do you imagine pulling this off? Do you plan on stuffing a pillow in your jeans to fool them? Of course not. Think it through, Lucy. For God’s sake, think it through. They’ll have gynecologists and pediatricians and thugs with guns and knives. Stick to delivering babies.”

That last line—“Stick to delivering babies”—is the one that really kicks me hard in the stomach.

I know Blumenthal is being sensible. Maybe he’s even absolutely right. But now I’m in that weird position of not being able to back down. I search for a defense. And I come up with a really shitty one.

“I’m trying to be proactive,” I say.

“Proactive?” he says, loud enough for a few of the people at the other end of the room to suddenly look toward us. “Proactive? Proactive is the dumbest new made-up word in the English language. It’s a synonym, a synonym for wasting time, for making a lot of noise for no real reason.”

I decide to storm away from the table before he can storm away.

I get to the door of the cafeteria. I turn around and say exactly what I feel like saying.

“Remember this, Detective Blumenthal. Remember that I gave you a golden opportunity. Remember it when another baby goes missing.”

“Wait, Ms. Ryuan,” he says loudly.

The strength of his voice freezes me in place. The next thing I know, Blumenthal is standing close to me. Closer than he should.

“Look. I really do understand your passion about what’s going on. I really do.”

“No. I don’t think you—”

“Take me at my word.”

And suddenly I feel as if I will.

“Take a break. That’s my advice. Get away. Take a break. Go to the beach. Go to the country. Go to the movies. Do something. Take ninety-six hours to stop delivering babies, stop thinking about this case.”

I look into his hazel eyes. For the first time, I don’t have the urge to disagree with him.

“When you get back—after that little break—we can talk again. You have done a lot for this case, and I appreciate the help. You are one smart woman.”

Chapter 37

Chapter 37