I almost say thanks but no thanks and then stop. I’ve often heard people who commit crimes stay close just to see how the victim reacts. What if the kidnapper shows up in a large group? I know it’s unlikely, but it seems logical. “Excuse me. Can you read this to me?” I lift my cane. “I’d love to come, but I’m assuming you don’t have flyers in braille?”

“Oh, sorry. Sure. It’s right in downtown Elmhurst from two to five today. Fun for everyone and free to the public. Lots of cool things for the little ones too.”

I thank the woman and wonder if I can talk Jess and Jake into coming with me to scout things out. I fold the flyer and tuck it into my pocket.

“Okay.” Jake approaches. “I got a few names of women who were here yesterday. I can start with them.” He flips a page on his notepad. “Bec, I’d suggest we call Prentice Hospital for the footprint. Since this child doesn’t have identification, you’re going to have to see if they will scan him.”

Suddenly, I have an idea. “What if I take him to Elmhurst Hospital? It seems likely that he would have been born here, not in Chicago.”

“Worth a shot. Let me finish up here and we’ll head over there.” He retreats for a few more questions.

I listen to all the happy children—just not mine. Jess clears her throat. “I know this must be excruciating.”

“You have no idea,” I whisper. I unfold the flyer from my pocket. “I want to go.”

“Why?” She takes it.

“Jackson could be there. Some crazy person could be playing house and bring him out in public.”

“Rebecca, you won’t be able to see anything.”

“You will.”

Finally, she sighs. “Let me check with Candace.”

“Okay, I’ve got the names of all the women with strollers.” Jake returns and rattles off the names of the other women here yesterday: Jess and me, of course, then Lanie Jenkins, Ramona Thompson, Barbara Wang, and Sandra Phillips.

Jess confirms. “You know what, I think that’s right. A few were on the other benches, but I remember their strollers. They have the top-of-the-line stuff: thousand-dollar strollers, all the fancy models.”

My heart drops. “So what you’re saying is that no one could have taken mine by mistake.”

“Look, we’re doing our due diligence,” Jake says. “Jess, can you get their addresses and I’ll pop by for questioning? Meanwhile, let’s hit the hospital.” Suddenly, Jake’s phone buzzes. “Shit. Hold that thought. Donovan.” He answers and barks orders in short, professional clips. The phone call is all of thirty seconds, but I know, even before he hangs up, that he’s about to leave me. “Bec, I’m so sorry…”