Shock

Once the lunch was served, Deborah's curiosity got the best of her, and she asked Helen about the women.

"They are Central Americans," Helen said, corroborating Deborah's impression. "They're from Nicaragua. It's an arrangement that Dr. Saunders has made with a colleague in that country. They come for a number of months on a work visa, and then return home. I have to say, they have solved a big problem for us by providing kitchen, cleaning, and serving help, which we were unable to find in this area."

"Do they come with their families?"

"No, just by themselves. It's a chance for them to make a serious amount of money, which they send back home."

"But they all look pregnant," Deborah remarked. "Is that some kind of coincidence?"

"No coincidence at all," Helen said. "It's a way for them to earn extra money. But listen, eat up! I really would like to show you the living quarters which I hope we can talk you into taking advantage o£ I know you'll be pleased with the rents. They're shockingly reasonable, especially compared to those in Boston."

Deborah looked at Joa

TEN

AFTER LUNCH HELEN MANAGED to get the two women into the golf cart despite Joa

Even the average workers' housing was charming. The buildings were two-story row houses grouped together in a fashion reminiscent of a rural English village. The two-bedroom unit Helen showed the women was quite homey. Its front windows looked over a small, cobble stoned central square, while its larger rear windows faced south, affording a view over the millpond. Equally attractive was the rent: eight hundred dollars a month.

At Deborah's insistence, after leaving the apartment Helen took them on a short loop around the farm and even around the power plant before bringing them back to the main building. The only downside of the entire excursion was that Joa

"What was your take on those pregnant workers in the dining room?" Deborah asked in a whisper to keep Gladys, the secretary, from overhearing.

"I was blown over," Joa

"Do you think it is some kind of experiment?"

"Heaven only knows," Joa

"The question is, What are they doing with the children?"

"I should hope the children are going back with the mothers to Nicaragua," Joa

"The first thing that comes to my mind is that they are selling them," Deborah said. "Surrogacy doesn't seem likely since they are all so equivalently far along. Selling them could be quite a lucrative business on the side. Being an infertility clinic they certainly have the appropriate clientele, and when we were here a year and a half ago you were impressed with the money this place was seemingly raking in."

"I was impressed with the money they have to be generating from the infertility business," Joa

"I suppose you're right," Deborah said. "There has to be some reasonable explanation. Maybe they are women suffering from infertility themselves. Maybe helping them get pregnant is part of the deal to get them to come."

Joa

"Yeah, well, I can't think of any other explanation."

"Nor can I," Joa

The door to Dr. Wingate's office opened and the doctor emerged with narrow-rimmed reading glasses perched on the end of his nose. Clutched in his hand were balance sheets, which he continued to examine intently up until the moment he placed them on the secretary's desk. He didn't appear to be pleased.

"Call the accountants," he muttered to Gladys. "Tell them I want to see all four quarters of last year."

"Yes, sir," Gladys said.

Spencer gave the balance sheets a final knock with his knuckle; were still mulling over their contents before looking in the direction. He took a fortifying breath and then walked over to where they were sitting. As he approached his expression softened and a tentative smile appeared.

"Good afternoon, Miss Marks," he said, reaching out to shake hand, which he held for an extra moment as he locked eyes with her. Then turning to Joa

"Prudence Heatherly," Joa

"I'm sorry to have kept you ladies waiting,' he said, switching his attention back to Deborah.

"We've been enjoying a chance to sit and relax," Deborah said. She could tell the good doctor was having trouble keeping his eyes off her crossed legs. "Miss Masterson has kept us on a busy schedule."

"I hope your visit has been successful."

"Very much so," Deborah said. "We'll be starting work tomorrow."

"Excellent," Spencer said. "Excellent indeed." He rubbed his hands restlessly and looked back and forth between the two women as if he were trying to make up his mind about something. He pulled a chair over and sat down across from them. "Well," he said. "What can we get you: coffee, tea, or a soft drink?"

"Some sparkling water would be nice," Deborah said.

"Same for me," Joa

Spencer told the secretary to get the cold drinks. While she was doing so, he made small talk about the clinic. When the secretary returned it was with only two small bottles of San Pellegrino.

"Aren't you having anything?" Deborah asked.

"No, I'm fine," Spencer said. But he didn't seem to be. He crossed and uncrossed his legs several times while the women poured their drinks. He was obviously nervous about something.