“Five thousand dollars for snatching a kid. Pretty paltry, compared with the sentence he’s facing. So.” She turned, found Sebastian in the doorway and offered him a soft drink. “He owes thirty-five hundred to this casino up in Tahoe, and he knows if he doesn’t make a payment soon, he’s going to have his face rearranged in a way that might not be pleasing. So he scouts out a kid.”

He was following her, but Sebastian was also interested in her personal habitat. “Why David?” he asked as he walked past her into the adjoining room.

“I looked into that. Stan worked on his car about five months ago. Stan’ll show off pictures of David to anyone who doesn’t run for cover. So when Parkland figured snatching a kid was better than plastic surgery the hard way, he figured a mechanic’s kid might be the ticket. David’s cute. Even a sleaze like Parkland would have realized a pretty baby makes an impression on a buyer.”

“Um-hmm.” Sebastian rubbed a hand over his chin as he studied her bedroom. He assumed it was a bedroom, as there was a narrow, unmade bed in the center of it. It also appeared to be a living room, as it also had an overstuffed chair piled with books and magazines, a portable TV on a wobbly plant stand, and a lamp in the shape of a trout. “Is this where you live?”

“Yeah.” She kicked a pair of boots out of the way. “Maid’s year off. And so,” she continued, dropping down on a chest decorated with stickers of most, if not all, of the fifty states, “he took the job, got all his instructions from Mr. X over the phone. Met the redhead at the prearranged drop and exchanged David for an envelope of cash.”

“What’s this?”

Mel glanced over. “It’s a Bullwinkle bank. Didn’t you ever watch Bullwinkle?”

“I believe I did,” Sebastian mused, shaking the moose before setting it aside again. “Hokey smokes.”

“That’s the one. Anyway—”

“And this?” He gestured to a poster tacked to the wall.

“Underdog. Wally Cox used to do the voice. Are you paying attention to me?”

He turned and smiled. “I’m riveted. Do you know it takes a bold soul to mix purple and orange in one room?”

“I like bright colors.”

“And red-striped sheets.”

“They were on sale,” she said impatiently. “You turn the light off when you sleep, anyway. Look, Donovan, how long are we going to discuss my decor?”

“Only a moment or two.” He picked up a bowl shaped like the Cheshire cat. She’d tossed odds and ends into it. A straight pin, a safety pin, a couple of loose buttons, a .22 bullet, a coupon for the soft drinks she seemed to live on, and what looked to Sebastian to be a lock pick.

“You’re not the tidy sort, are you?”