Chapter 18 - THE S-TRAP
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Hank O’Leary wiped a smear of pipe thread sealant on his heavy canvas overalls and looked at Sarah across the counter of his small dispatch office.
"I remember the call," Hank said, his voice guarded. "Older lady. Said her grandson flushed a toy, completely shattered the interior porcelain trying to snake it herself. Told me to just rip the whole thing out and take it to the dump."
"Did you take it to the dump?" Sarah asked, keeping her voice perfectly steady.
Hank hesitated. He looked out the window at his work trucks. "Look, lady, I don't want any trouble. She paid me a five-hundred-dollar premium on top of the invoice to keep my mouth shut about what was in the trap."
Sarah’s heart hammered against her ribs. "It wasn't a toy."
"No," Hank said quietly. "It was a waterproof titanium capsule. About the size of a cigar tube. Heavy. It was wedged so deep in the S-curve that the water pressure was forcing it backward instead of down the line."
Sarah gripped the edge of the counter. "Where is the capsule now?"
"She took it," Hank said. "Washed it off in the sink, put it in her purse, and handed me the cash."
Sarah walked out to her car, her mind racing. Linda wasn't a psychopath trying to murder a baby out of jealousy. Linda had been trying to flush something physical, something small and heavy, right as Sarah walked in.
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But why was the baby in the water?
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