Donny smiled sideways at me. “Dunno, kiddo, that’s why we’re going to meet him.”
We met with the PI at McDonald’s. He was a grungy-looking guy named Greg DeWitt (8-17-2041). He wore a coffee-stained sweatshirt, dirty jeans, and a beard that looked like it still had some of his breakfast in it. Also, his breath could’ve peeled paint. He was so repugnant that I offered to stand in the long line to get us all dinner simply to get some space from him. By the time I returned with the tray of food, DeWitt was gone and Donny was peering into a large manila envelope.
“Where’d he go?” I asked, setting the tray carefully on the table.
Donny looked up at me. “Huh? Oh, he had another assignment.”
“What’s in the envelope?”
Donny tucked it down at his side protectively. “Nothing I want you looking at.”
I scowled. “That’s nice.”
From the tray Donny picked up the burger I’d gotten for him. “It’s not like that. I just don’t want to upset you.”
“Yeah, because I haven’t been upset by any of this so far.”
Donny rolled his eyes but grinned. “DeWitt found a case that might help us. I want to take it over to the feds tomorrow, and I’d like you to come with me.”
“What’s the case?” I asked.
But Donny shook his head. “You’ll hear about it tomorrow. Tonight, I want you to relax. You’ve been through enough the past couple of days.”
I frowned hard at him, but he wasn’t budging.
We ate together in silence. His evasiveness put me right out of the mood for casual conversation. As soon as we finished up, Donny drove me home. “I’ll try to get a morning appointment with Faraday and Wallace, and I’ll call you when I’m on my way. After we talk with them, we’ll see about getting your bike replaced.” I nodded and climbed out of the car, but Donny called me back. “Maddie,” he said, and I could feel a lecture coming on. “Do me a favor, okay? Try and dress up a little tomorrow. No hoodie and jeans combo,” he said, motioning at my outfit. “Try a sweater and a skirt. And do something with your hair. Every time I see you, you’ve got your hair in a ponytail.”
I clenched my jaw, my cheeks burning. All of a sudden I was acutely aware of my appearance.
Donny’s features softened. “You’re a pretty girl, Madelyn Fynn,” he said gently. “You’ve got your mom’s cheekbones, your grandma’s nose, and your dad’s eyes—and that’s a killer combo. Your dad always used to kid around that he was gonna have to invest in a bat-making factory to beat off the guys.”
I opened my mouth, but Donny wasn’t finished. “And today you proved to the superintendent of all Grand Haven schools that you’re also smart as a whip. Meanwhile, you walk around trying not to get noticed…and I get it, I really do. I can’t imagine what it’s like to see what you see, or have people know you can tell them the exact date they’re going to die—but, kiddo, if your dad were alive today, he’d never put up with this shrinking violet act. You’ve been trying to turn invisible for too long. Guess what: you’re not invisible anymore. And like I said back at the school, looking like the gorgeous girl next door can only help us when the feds try to make you out as a villain. So, it’s time to stand up to all these people who want to label you as weird or a psycho or weak or dumb or a witch or whatever, and show them what you’re made of. You’re a Fynn, Maddie. And Fynns don’t hide. We stand up and we stand out. Period.”
I could feel a retort forming, but Donny didn’t wait for a reply; he offered me a three-finger Scout’s-honor salute and drove off. I watched his flashy car cruise down the street, and had no choice but to consider what he’d said.
The next morning, Donny called to say that he couldn’t get a meeting with the feds until after three, but he’d be by a little after noon to take me to lunch and pick out a new bike.
He showed up at twelve thirty, took one look at me, and broke into a sideways grin. “Afternoon, gorgeous,” he said.
I’d paired my nicest skinny jeans with a camel cashmere hoodie from J. Crew, which Ma had given me last year for Christmas. I’d also blown out my long hair and dabbed on some mascara and lip gloss. Finally, I’d substituted leather booties for my usual sneakers. I figured it was as close to meeting Donny halfway as I was going to get for now.
We had lunch at a sandwich shop in Grand Haven that Donny liked, then headed to the bike shop. And after much debate, I finally got to pick out a new road bike that was light as air and fast as lightning. I was dying to hop right on and take it for a spin, but we needed to get to our appointment with the feds.
We arrived at the bureau a little before three, and Agent Wallace came to the lobby to escort us to Faraday’s office. As we entered, Faraday’s back was to us and he was speaking angrily into his cell. “Jenny, if he wants to try out for the team, then I say he can.” There was a pause, then, “You know what? I can’t listen to this right now. He’s got my okay. Sorry you don’t like it, but what else is new? I’ll expect a call from your attorney.”
Wallace cleared his throat loudly, and Faraday registered our presence. “I gotta go,” he muttered, jabbing at the end button with his thumb. We took our seats, and as we did, I saw Faraday and Wallace exchange a knowing look that seemed to be about the call.
Wallace pulled his chair in from the glass office behind Faraday, and they adopted identical expressions of Yeah?
Donny cleared his throat and reached into his briefcase. He extracted the same envelope he’d been so careful to hide from me, and handed it over to the agents. Faraday took it and opened the flap to peer inside. I saw his eyes widen, and then he dumped out the contents on his desk. Even upside down I could tell that the envelope contained some gruesome crime scene photos. My breath caught, and Donny laid a reassuring hand on my arm.