Only minutes after Mel came back out, a young boy rushed down the sidewalk, a red leash trailing behind him.

“Oh, wow. Kong. Oh, wow.”

In response, the dog leapt to his feet, barking happily. He rushed the boy—like a fullback blocking a tight end. They went down on the sidewalk in a delighted, rolling heap.

With one arm hooked over Kong’s massive neck, the boy grinned up at Mel. “Gee, lady, you sure are a real detective and all. Just like on TV. Thanks. Thanks a lot. You did real good.”

“Thanks.” Mel held out a hand to accept the boy’s formal handshake.

“Do I owe you any more?”

“No, we’re square. You ought to get him one of those tags with his name and your phone number on it. In case he decides to hit the road again.”

“Okay. Yeah, okay.” He hooked the red leash onto Kong’s collar. “Wait till Mom sees. Come on, Kong, let’s go home.” They went off at a dash, the dog pulling the boy behind him. “Thanks,” he called out again, and his laughter echoed on the evening air.

“He’s right,” Sebastian murmured, not bothering to resist the urge to run his fingers through her hair. “You did good.”

She shrugged, wishing she weren’t so moved by the tone of his voice, by the touch of his hand. “I earn my keep.”

“I bet you made a bundle on that one.”

Laughing a little, she turned her head. “Hey, I made two dollars and seven cents. That ought to buy me some popcorn at the flicks.”

He cut off her laughter by touching his lips to hers. It wasn’t a kiss … really … she thought. It was … friendlier.

“What did you do that for?”

“Just one of those things.” Sebastian straddled his bike, then tossed her a helmet. “Climb on, Sutherland. I hate to be late for the movies.”

*  *  *

All in all, it wasn’t a bad way to unwind. Mel had always enjoyed the movies. They had been one of her favorite recreations as a child. It didn’t matter if you were the new kid in school once the lights went out and the screen flickered into life.

Movie theaters were comfortingly familiar anywhere in the country. The smell of popcorn and candy, the sticky floors, the shufflings people made as they settled down to watch. Whatever movie was playing in El Paso was probably entertaining patrons in Tallahassee, too.

Mel had been drawn back to them time and time again during her mother’s wanderings, stealing a couple of hours a week where it didn’t matter where she was. Or who she was.

She felt the same sense of anonymity here, with the moody music and shadowy suspense on the screen. A killer was stalking the streets, and Mel—along with the other viewers—was content to sit back and watch the ancient duel of good against evil.