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“The final decision was made when I was coming down the stairs from the airplane. When I saw you with your mother, my girlish heart nearly jumped out of my chest. Then I saw that you were looking up my dress. I thought, he hasn’t changed. But then I finally decided to take a chance.”

There was a long silence, then Cronley said, “And you did. Why?”

“I just told you. It was my attempt to make a Hail Mary pass.”

“About what?”

“You’re so damn smart, Super Spook, figure it out yourself. Let me know when you have and what you want to do because—”

She stopped when she heard the baby wailing.

“Don’t go anywhere, Jimmy.”

A minute or so later, she returned with the softly sobbing infant, rocking him in the crook of her arm.

“Here,” she said, now holding Baby Bruce out toward him, “hold him while I get his bottle ready.”

“What the hell?” Cronley said. “I don’t know how to do that.”

“It’s simple. Just make sure you support his head. Hold your arm this way.”

She moved Cronley’s right arm as hers had been, cradling the infant in it with his head resting against Cronley’s chest.

“Good. See, Jimmy? Not so mysterious.”

Cronley, with a look that was equal parts terror and awe, glanced from her to the infant.

Baby Bruce, blinking, stared back at him.

He has his mother’s amazing blue eyes.

“I’ll be right back,” she said, then touched his cheek and hurried out of the bedroom and down the hall.

“Hurry, damn it!”

* * *

—

A few minutes later—what seemed an eternity to Cronley—she returned with a baby bottle. She held it out to Cronley.

“Oh, not no,” he said. “Hell no.”

“Oh, hell yes.”

As Cronley met her eyes, she slipped the bottle’s nipple between the infant’s lips. She moved Cronley’s free hand to hold the bottle.

There then came the sound of a contented gurgle from Baby Bruce, and when Cronley looked down, he grinned around the bottle’s nipple and blinked his blue eyes.

“He’s beautiful, Ginger. Peaceful.”

“Uh-huh.”

Cronley felt something warm growing inside his gut.

Jesus, is this little creature making me melt or is that wretched fear?

Next, he felt the infant’s torso begin twisting in his arm. And then Baby Bruce loudly expelled a burst of flatulence.