Tell Me a Story by Dallas Schulze Read Free Book Online Page A

sound so sincere?
    "It was a big deal to Becky and me." The coffee maker pinged, and he turned and got two cups down out of the cupboard. He filled them with coffee and handed one to Ann. "If you don't want it, I'll drink it. Let's go into the living room and get comfortable. We can keep an eye on the balcony from there."
    Once again, she found herself trailing after him, not quite sure how he'd managed to turn the situation around. Somehow, the edge of her anger had been blunted. She settled onto an off-white overstuffed chair and then realized it was a tactical error. The chair didn't just invite you to sit back and relax, it insisted that you do so. The huge puffy cushions practically swallowed her. There was no way she could use any-effective body language in this chair. On the other hand, she couldn't change seats without looking like an idiot. She shot Flynn an annoyed look, wondering if he'd done this deliberately, but he'd settled into an identical chair and managed to look completely in command of himself, the furniture and the situation. Ann felt like a little girl sitting in her father's chair. She could barely move to set her coffee cup down on an end table—the coffee she hadn't wanted, she remembered irritably.
    "What did you want to talk about?"
    "Becky."
    "What about her?" His eyes were cool and watchful.
    "I want to know what she's doing here. And don't tell me that she's playing on the balcony. She said that you found her in the alley last night and offered her a bed. Is that true?"
    "Pretty much."
    "How could you!"
    "You think it would have been better to leave her in the alley?"
    "That's not what I mean!"
    "Then what did you mean?"
    "Mr. McCallister—"
    "Flynn. It's much easier to spit out."
    Ann ground her teeth together. "Flynn. Didn't it occur to you that her mother would be worried about her? You should have contacted her immediately. I've always known that you were irresponsible but I wouldn't have believed that even you would do something like this. That poor woman must be out of her mind with worry.''
    "You've always known that I was irresponsible? You must have amazing powers of observation, Ms. Perry. Considering that your only contact with me over the past two years has been a few barbs exchanged in the hallway. On what do you base this sweeping judgment?"
    Ann opened her mouth but he cut her off with a sharp gesture. "I don't really want to hear it. Your opinion of me is neither here nor there. Becky's mother disappeared two weeks ago. The landlady was about to turn Becky over to Social Services. Becky is terrified of them so she ran away. She's been living on the streets for the past few days. No matter how irresponsible I am, I think I'm a better bet than the streets."
    "That's not the issue."
    "Just what is the issue, Ms. Perry? Do you think I'm going to corrupt her?"
    He was backing her into a corner and she didn't like the feeling. Somehow, he'd managed to put her in the wrong. She felt trapped—physically and verbally.
    "She says you were intoxicated last night."
    "Smashed to the gills."
    "You can't possibly think that's a good influence for a child."
    "I don't think it's going to put a permanent warp on her psyche to see a man drunk."
    "The fact that you drink to excess doesn't make you a particularly good guardian for a child, even temporarily."
    "I do not drink to excess on a regular basis."
    Ann flushed angrily at the prissy tone he used to repeat her words. "I suppose last night was a special occasion."
    "In a manner of speaking. It was my brother's birthday."
    "And that's supposed to make it all right? The two of you go out and—"
    "Not the two of us. I was alone. Mark died three years ago."
    Ann wondered if it were possible to coax the huge chair into swallowing her completely. "I'm sorry."
    There was a moment of silence and then Flynn ran his fingers through his hair. The crooked smile he gave her was half apology and wholly charming.
    "I'm the one who should be sorry. I know