Matthew walked toward the main gates, holding Catherine’s hand and trying to read the timetable.
“Watch out for the dog,” Catherine squealed as he nearly stepped on the smallest excuse for a four-legged canine he’d ever seen.
“Thanks for the warning, short stuff.”
“You’re welcome. Are you sure you don’t want Uncle Sean to be in charge of the map? He doesn’t get lost.”
Matthew knelt down and smiled into his niece’s upturned face. “Sometimes when you’re lost, you end up in a better place than where you thought you’d be.”
“Not in the supermarket parking lot, you don’t. Dad melted a huge tub of ice cream when he couldn’t find our truck.”
“You’re safe with me,” Sean whispered. “Uncle Matthew and your dad share the same type of challenges.”
“Yeah,” Matthew laughed. “And our biggest challenge is called Sean.”
“Very funny,” his brother muttered. “It won’t be so funny when you can’t find the barrel racing.”
“Or the line for the Ferris wheel,” Catherine added.
Matthew nodded at the solemn expression on his niece’s face. “We’d better hurry up. If we don’t, Uncle Sean won’t be happy.”
Sean handed Matthew his ticket. “Just remember, if you get lost you’ll miss out on cotton candy.”
Catherine gripped Matthew’s hand tighter. “Don’t worry. I’ll look after you.”
He looked down into her trusting eyes and smiled. That was the nicest thing anyone had said to him in a long time.
***
Ashley looked over her shoulder, frowning at the people walking along the sidewalk. For the last week, she’d been worried that someone was following her. She was turning into a paranoid reporter, jumping like a scared rabbit whenever anyone bumped into her.
After speaking to Harry yesterday, she was even more worried. She’d stayed awake for most of the night, going over her notes, searching the Internet for any connection between Jasmine Alfredo and Congressman Welsh.
She glanced at her watch. She’d called Harry on the way to work, hoping he hadn’t left for the day. Something was going on, and it was bigger than anything she’d ever investigated. She pushed the buzzer for Harry’s apartment and watched yellow taxis zoom past his building.
“Come on up,” he yelled over the intercom.
The front door of the red-brick building clicked open, and she ran inside. One of the loveliest features of the building was the wrought iron staircase she was climbing. But the special features didn’t end there. Harry’s apartment was huge compared to hers. It had floor-to-ceiling windows, a gourmet kitchen, and every modern piece of technology money could buy.
She’d met Harry not long after she started working atThe Daily Times.As well as being the best contract photographer the newspaper employed, Harry regularly exhibited his work in art galleries. He’d won prestigious awards and had a reputation that gave him access to New York’s glitterati. He was living his dream—unlike Ashley.
She knocked on his apartment door and waited.
When the door opened, a yawning Harry stood in front of her. His mop of blond hair stuck out at odd angles, and there was still stubble on his face. “Have you just fallen out of bed?”
“I had a busy night.”
“It looks like it. How was yourTwilight Zonemarathon?”
He rubbed his eyes and headed toward the kitchen. “What’s another word for totally awesome?”
Ashley smiled. “I get the idea. Do you want to go over the photos for my story now or later?”
He glanced at his watch and groaned. “Better do it now. I have to leave in an hour and I’ll be gone for most of the day. Don’t tell me you worked on your story all night.”
“You know me—if something bugs me I keep going until I’ve found an answer.”
“What was bugging you?”
