“Be right back.” Crystal joins Jess and Betty, who points at the point-of-sale screen. “There’ve been quite a few of these purchased over the last few months.” Betty scrolls through initials and partial credit card numbers. “Do you know who you’re looking for?”

“Not exactly. Is there a way to print this?”

“I can’t legally do that, I’m afraid.” Betty points to the credit card numbers. “Privacy.”

“Right.”

“Hey Betty, while you’re here. I was wondering if you could hook me up with a piece of art for my son’s bedroom.” Jess casually motions to the back wall, where a row of colorful paintings hang. “Are these new?”

“They are. Great line from a local artist.” When Betty turns to describe the paintings, Jess signals to Crystal.

Crystal slides her phone from her pocket and takes a few photos of the screen. When Betty realizes she’s left the computer unattended, she turns, but Crystal is already walking back toward Bec. “You’ve been super helpful, Betty. Thanks so much,” Crystal says. Jess busies her with purchasing one of the paintings, which Betty struggles to get off the wall.

“Hank!” She calls someone from the back to help. Jess makes Betty laugh, and Crystal marvels at how Jess puts most people at ease. She’s never been like that, instead wired so tight, she feels she might slice someone apart if she’s not careful.

“Okay, got the list.” Crystal thumbs through the names. “How do we even know who we’re looking for?”

Bec is listening, but appears despondent. Her delicate fingers snake around her cup of lemonade. With her dark glasses and erect posture, she could pass for a statue. Except for the wriggling baby on her chest.

“How many names?”

Crystal hurriedly counts them. “Twenty.”

“Any of them look familiar?”

She scans the last names. “Unfortunately, no. But I’m probably not the right person to ask.”

“Do you mind texting it to Jake?”

“Sure.” Bec recites Jake’s number from memory. Crystal sends him a text and pockets her phone. While they wait on Jess to check out, Crystal leans in. “What can I do to help?”

Rebecca sighs and her face, usually filled with such optimism, crumples. “I don’t know. I really don’t.”

“Well, that was easy,” Jess says as she lugs a small painting of a giraffe toward them. “Ready?”

They walk outside. “Thanks for distracting her.” Crystal pops the trunk.

“It’s what I do best,” Jess says.

Once she’s behind the wheel, she starts the car and glances once again at the shop. Inside, Betty fusses with the front window display. She moves a vintage baby stroller. Its large chrome wheels take up most of the space. Betty pulls back the fire engine–red canopy, adjusts something, and tugs it back into place. Crystal continues to stare. She’d had a stroller just like that when Savi was little.

The color of cherries.