Face of Betrayal
the other pages asked where I was from & told me I had a cute accent. That made me smile. Do I really have an accent? In the state I’m from, we pretty much talk like TV newscasters. On the other hand, you should hear him. And just in case he’s reading this, let me say that he’s the one with an accent.
    Later we were in the dayroom together with a bunch of other people watching TV. Eventually everyone left, until we were the only ones there.
    And that’s all I’m going to say about my birthday.

BLUE MOON TAVERN
    December 21
    A llison found herself scanning the faces of the people on the sidewalks as she hunted for one of Northwest Portland’s scarce parking spaces. Knowing she wouldn’t see Katie, but all too aware that another day had gone by without a break in the case.
    As she walked down the poorly lit sidewalk toward McMenamin’s Blue Moon Tavern, the restaurant Cassidy had chosen, Allison’s thoughts took another, even darker, turn. Whoever had put the threatening note on her car could be anyplace. She interlaced her keys between the fingers of her left hand and held her cell phone ready in her right. Her heels tick-tocked on the sidewalk of the deserted side street. But once she was on the busy main street she relaxed, at least a little.
    She found Nicole inside the restaurant, and the two women ordered. About twenty minutes later Cassidy turned heads as she rushed in. Her customary bright colors—including an orange raincoat—stood out among the jeans and dark parkas.
    “Sorry I’m late,” she said, leaning over to hug Nicole. “The bridge was up.” She gave Allison an air kiss, then stepped back to appraise her. “So how are you feeling?”
    “Fine. The only difference I’ve noticed is that I can smell things a lot better. I was in PetSmart, and I could smell the shavings in the hamsters’ cages and the chemicals in the fish tanks.”
    And Cassidy’s perfume bordered on overwhelming, but Allison decided not to mention that.
    Cassidy went up to the counter. From the guy behind the beer taps she ordered a Wilbur’s Jumbo Deluxe Burger, a pint of Hammerhead, and an order of McMenamin’s famous fries.
    Nicole called out, “Cass, we already have fries!”
    “I need my own,” Cassidy answered, taking the glass of beer and walking back to the table. “Why do you think I picked this place anyway?”
    The Blue Moon had been in Northwest Portland long before the neighborhood’s housing values shot out of sight. Now its funky artwork and battered wooden chairs were a throwback to the time when the area had been a cheap refuge for artists and college students.
    When Cassidy looped her heavy Coach purse over the back of her chair, the seat went up on two legs. With an ease born of long experience, she caught the purse with one hand while slipping out of her coat and draping it over the back of the chair with the other. Just before the whole thing tipped over, she sat down.
    Nicole snorted. “Ever thought of getting a purse with luggage wheels?”
    “Oh, shut up! If you ever need a Band-Aid or a complete change of clothes, don’t come crying to me.” Cassidy turned back to Allison. “Have you been to the doctor yet?”
    “I have an appointment in three weeks. They want to be able to hear the baby’s heart rate, and they can’t do that until it’s bigger.”
    Allison had been surprised by how casually the receptionist at her doctor’s office had treated her. Did they really think that she could do the right thing all by herself? She had spent the last couple of evenings reading What to Expect When You’re Expecting instead of the files she had lugged home from work.
    “So how big is it now?” Cassidy reached over to help herself to some of their fries. “Do you know?”
    “According to what I’m reading, I’ve already gone through the grain of rice and green pea stages. I think it’s somewhere between pinto bean and olive size.”
    “Why is it always food?” Nicole pointed a french

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