knocking on Flynn's door. Becky answered the door.
"Ann! Mr. Flynn is making tacos. He says there's lots if you want to eat with us." Becky took Ann's hand and pulled her into the apartment. Ann was surprised by how much it felt like coming home. "We got you a hobby."
"You did what?"
Flynn came to the kitchen doorway in time to hear her exclamation. He gave her his most devilish grin. "Ann! How nice to see you. Becky, why don't you go get Ann's hobby. I'm sure she must be wild with excitement. Are you going to be joining us for dinner?"
"That depends." She checked to make sure that Becky was out of earshot and lowered her voice to be safe. "Did Becky cook any of it?"
Flynn's grin widened. "She made the instant pudding for dessert."
"Then maybe I'll join you for dinner."
Becky ran back into the room, a gaily wrapped package in her hands. She was a far cry from the ragged little girl Ann had met less than a week ago. Her hot pink cotton play pants and matching T-shirt gave color to her rather pale face. Her hair still needed a good cut, but Flynn had pulled it back from her face and clipped it into two pink barrettes. She looked like a normal, healthy child.
"Here." She thrust the package into Ann's hands, her face glowing with excitement. "Mr. Flynn and I picked it out together."
"Bring it into the kitchen so I can keep an eye on the tacos." Ann and Becky followed Flynn into the kitchen, and Ann couldn't help but sniff appreciatively at the spicy aromas that filled the room.
She set the package down on the table and tugged off the ribbon. Becky stood beside her, hopping back and forth with excitement. "Do you need help getting it open?"
It was clear that Ann's usual methodical procedure was not going to do. She nodded and Becky's small fingers made short shrift of the wrapping paper. When the contents were revealed, Ann didn't know what to say. Lying in the tattered remnants of the wrapping was a paint-by-numbers kit. A picture of a bowl of flowers.
She looked at Flynn who looked back at her with a totally bland expression. "Becky and I thought you'd enjoy it."
"It's wonderful. Thank you." She hoped the comment sounded enthusiastic enough for Becky. She didn't worry about Flynn. After all, he had clearly bought it as a joke. He didn't really expect her to do anything with it. Paint-by-numbers. How silly could you get?
She could never quite explain to herself how it happened. She took the kit home, planning to throw it away, but it seemed a shame to throw it out without at least opening it. And then those little pots of paint looked kind of interesting. It couldn't hurt to dab a few colors on the canvas. And before she knew it, it was midnight and she was still hunched over the table, dabbing little bits of paint into numbered segments on the picture.
And damned if she wasn't having a thoroughly good time!
Chapter 6
" I 'm sorry, Mr. McCallister. I wish I had more news for you. We'll keep looking but, frankly, we're beginning to run out of directions to go."
Flynn nodded, his eyes on the rather bilious floral print that hung over Leon Devoe's desk. Leon Devoe fit neither his name nor his profession. Everyone knew that private investigators were either tall and stunningly handsome with a slightly world-weary attitude, or short and slimy and out to cheat every client who came within reach. Leon looked like an ad for Mr. Average. Average size, average looks, average honesty. But he came with high recommendations.
"Perhaps if I could talk to the little girl. She might be able to tell me something that would help me to locate her mother."
"No." Flynn shook his head. "I don't want to involve Becky any more than we have to. She's scared enough without having someone asking questions. I've told you everything she knows about her mother's disappearance."
Leon shrugged and shuffled the papers on his desk. "I don't suppose it would do much good anyway. Frankly, there are a number of odd things about this woman. I
"Ann! Mr. Flynn is making tacos. He says there's lots if you want to eat with us." Becky took Ann's hand and pulled her into the apartment. Ann was surprised by how much it felt like coming home. "We got you a hobby."
"You did what?"
Flynn came to the kitchen doorway in time to hear her exclamation. He gave her his most devilish grin. "Ann! How nice to see you. Becky, why don't you go get Ann's hobby. I'm sure she must be wild with excitement. Are you going to be joining us for dinner?"
"That depends." She checked to make sure that Becky was out of earshot and lowered her voice to be safe. "Did Becky cook any of it?"
Flynn's grin widened. "She made the instant pudding for dessert."
"Then maybe I'll join you for dinner."
Becky ran back into the room, a gaily wrapped package in her hands. She was a far cry from the ragged little girl Ann had met less than a week ago. Her hot pink cotton play pants and matching T-shirt gave color to her rather pale face. Her hair still needed a good cut, but Flynn had pulled it back from her face and clipped it into two pink barrettes. She looked like a normal, healthy child.
"Here." She thrust the package into Ann's hands, her face glowing with excitement. "Mr. Flynn and I picked it out together."
"Bring it into the kitchen so I can keep an eye on the tacos." Ann and Becky followed Flynn into the kitchen, and Ann couldn't help but sniff appreciatively at the spicy aromas that filled the room.
She set the package down on the table and tugged off the ribbon. Becky stood beside her, hopping back and forth with excitement. "Do you need help getting it open?"
It was clear that Ann's usual methodical procedure was not going to do. She nodded and Becky's small fingers made short shrift of the wrapping paper. When the contents were revealed, Ann didn't know what to say. Lying in the tattered remnants of the wrapping was a paint-by-numbers kit. A picture of a bowl of flowers.
She looked at Flynn who looked back at her with a totally bland expression. "Becky and I thought you'd enjoy it."
"It's wonderful. Thank you." She hoped the comment sounded enthusiastic enough for Becky. She didn't worry about Flynn. After all, he had clearly bought it as a joke. He didn't really expect her to do anything with it. Paint-by-numbers. How silly could you get?
She could never quite explain to herself how it happened. She took the kit home, planning to throw it away, but it seemed a shame to throw it out without at least opening it. And then those little pots of paint looked kind of interesting. It couldn't hurt to dab a few colors on the canvas. And before she knew it, it was midnight and she was still hunched over the table, dabbing little bits of paint into numbered segments on the picture.
And damned if she wasn't having a thoroughly good time!
Chapter 6
" I 'm sorry, Mr. McCallister. I wish I had more news for you. We'll keep looking but, frankly, we're beginning to run out of directions to go."
Flynn nodded, his eyes on the rather bilious floral print that hung over Leon Devoe's desk. Leon Devoe fit neither his name nor his profession. Everyone knew that private investigators were either tall and stunningly handsome with a slightly world-weary attitude, or short and slimy and out to cheat every client who came within reach. Leon looked like an ad for Mr. Average. Average size, average looks, average honesty. But he came with high recommendations.
"Perhaps if I could talk to the little girl. She might be able to tell me something that would help me to locate her mother."
"No." Flynn shook his head. "I don't want to involve Becky any more than we have to. She's scared enough without having someone asking questions. I've told you everything she knows about her mother's disappearance."
Leon shrugged and shuffled the papers on his desk. "I don't suppose it would do much good anyway. Frankly, there are a number of odd things about this woman. I
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