Page 9 of To Die For

“I don’t know you. I don’t know why you want to know. And I don’t trust you. There you go.Threegood reasons, big guy.”

“You’d make an excellent debater. Especially only being twelve.”

“I’ll be thirteen really soon. But that’s just in calendar years.”

Devine glanced out the window and saw something that once more gave him pause.

He munched on a fry and said with genuine curiosity, “Calendar years? As opposed to what?”

She took another big bite of her burger before answering. “Life-shit years, I call them. With that, I’m twenty-eight.”

“How do you calculate that?”

She swallowed the mass of food. “It’smysecret. I might sell it one day for a bunch of money. Or I might start doing dumb dance moves on TikTok or smearingcoollip gloss on my mouth for millions of my adoring Instagram followers for big bucks.” She made a face. “People are so pathetic.”

“For what it’s worth, you sound more like forty-two inlife-shityears.”

“I hope I live that long actually, in calendar years, I mean.”

He looked startled. Up to now he just assumed she was playing the young smart-ass routine. But this last statement she seemed to actually believe. “Why wouldn’t you?”

“I’ve been around for over a dozen years. That’s a long time for someone like me.”

“Meaning what exactly?”

“Meaning what I just said,” she retorted.

He sat back. “Okay, what can you tell me about your uncle? You ever meet him?”

“Not that I remember, but my mom told me about him.”

“What exactly did she say about him?”

She held up her phone. “There’s this thing calledGoogle. You should try it.”

“Nice phone,” he remarked.

Her face fell. “My dad got it for me a few months ago. It’s… it’s my first one.”

Devine noted the utter sadness in her expression and wanted to say something supportive, but again, he didn’t want to make an awkward remark that would set her off.

Damn, this is tougher than interrogating terrorists.

“So, I heard your parents came into some money recently. You know anything about that?”

That earned him another glare. “No, I don’t! Okay?”

So much for not setting her off.

“All right. Do you want your uncle to adopt you?”

“TheMeatballalready asked me that.” She added wearily, “Like a hundred times.”

“You meanAgent Saxby. So why didn’t you answer her?”

She put her burger down and stared at him for such an uncomfortably long time that he finally said, “What, do I have ketchup on my chin?”

“You look like a nice guy, clueless, but nice,” she said. “So I’ll answer your question and you can run back and tell Meatball, so maybe she’ll get off my back.”

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