Priceless

a child’s burgeoning abilities.
    The drawing on top was simple and reflected the pictures of India in my pocket: A stick girl with dark red hair and a circle drawn beside her head, a child’s rendition of the orb in the pictures. The girl in the drawing was smiling. That was a good sign. As I flipped through the remainder of the stack, I quickly realized India wasn’t only in trouble because she was missing; her powers were coming into their own earlier than they should have been, and they were beginning to drown her out. Each subsequent picture had an additional circle, and by the last picture, the little stick girl was covered by them, her face no longer smiling.
    “She started drawing these the moment she could hold a crayon. Circles, always circles.” Maria wrung her hands, and then fluttered them toward me. “We didn’t know what to do. Do you really think you can find her?”
    I held her gaze, knowing if she saw me look away at that moment, she would never completely believe me, she wouldn’t trust me to find India. Without that trust, I would have the cops on my ass the whole way through this case and that was the last thing I needed. They’d just get in the way. Again.
    “Yes, I can find her. There hasn’t been a case yet where I haven’t.”
Liar liar pants on fire, Rylee
, my inner voice mocked me, hard.
    Handing the drawings back to Maria, I asked, “Is there anything else I need to know?”
    Maria shook her head and clutched the pictures to her chest.
    “She likes tigers. Cats, all kinds of cats.” Don came up behind his wife and placed his hands on her shoulders. “And she loves to braid things, hair, thread, yarn. Even paper.”
    I let him talk; let him think he was helping. Maria caught my eye and I shook my head—no need to cut him off at the knees. She gave the briefest of nods, and for a moment I felt a mild connection with the woman, but I immediately pushed it away. I didn’t like getting attached to the parents. I was here for the kid, not them. Besides, the lack of attachment made it easier to be the bearer of bad news, which did happen more often than I liked.
    “You have the account number to deposit the down payment?” I already knew the answer.
    Maria nodded. “Half now, half when you bring her home.”
    Yup, that was me, taking money to find people’s kids; but at least I did that, I was no charlatan taking money for hope and never delivering.
    I left them holding onto each other, watching me—their only hope to regain their daughter—walk down the carpeted hallway and step into the stairwell. I didn’t wave, and neither did they.

~2~
    B esides the cool, constantly blowing wind that was North Dakota waiting for me to step outside, there were also two FBI agents. My usual stalker, O’Shea, and what appeared to be another new partner. Imagine that. Considering O’Shea’s lack of people skills, it was no surprise. He went through partners like a woman changes her clothes.
    “Adamson.” O’Shea barked at me.
    I flinched at the use of my surname, a name I didn’t use anymore. Not since I’d started searching for kids nearly ten years ago.
    His partner, a shorter version of O’Shea, I barely noticed. No angry vibes coming off that one. With O’Shea as his partner, I suspected he was taking a regular dose of Atavan just to get through the day. I would be, if I were in his shoes.
    “What?” My distant teenage persona came to the surface with the snap back. He
really
brought out the best in me. He didn’t look like your typical Irishman, with his dark eyes and hair. But his temper fit. Standing at least 6’3, he was one of very few men able to intimidate me. And it wasn’t just his height, or the size of his muscled body, it was the history between us. For ten years he’d been trying to pin murder charges on me, and for ten years I’d stayed free. It rubbed him the wrong way for some reason.
    Milly, my closest friend and confidant, long ago suggested I try flirting with him, to freak him out and throw him off his game. Lately I’d been considering it. I’d tried just about everything else and I really just wanted him off my case. Milly insisted it would work, and since she was the sex goddess in our duo, I could probably take her word for it. Problem was I wasn’t sure I could pull it off.
    “I know what you’re doing. Stay the hell out of FBI business or I’ll have you up on charges so fast even your ditzy little head will spin,” O’Shea said,