They both glanced up. It was the same pretty brunette from yesterday. She looked from Michelle back to Tyler and then down at the page.
“I’m really sorry about your dad,” she said.
She was barely five-two, with soft brown eyes.
“Thanks,” said Tyler, not meeting her gaze.
“Michelle Maxwell,” said Michelle, putting out her hand.
The girl took it. “I’m Kathleen Burnett, but I go by Kathy.”
“Are you in class with Tyler?”
“Yes, she is,” interjected Tyler.
“We were just meeting on some stuff, Kathy,” he added in obvious embarrassment. “About my dad.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Tyler. I’ll talk to you later.”
She hurried off. Michelle watched her go.
“She’s really cute.”
“I guess.”
“You’re friends?”
“We’re in some classes together.”
“She was here yesterday before us even though you came over right after school ended. How come?”
“She’s really smart. Skipped a grade and everything. And she doesn’t have a last-period class. She gets out early.”
“Nice to be smart. But she also seems to care about you.”
Tyler was now staring at the page of photos.
Michelle folded it up and slipped it back into her pocket.
“Does she care about you, Tyler?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know, why?”
“It’s good to have people who care, that’s all. Especially during times like this.”
“So what did you find out?”
“Nothing more than you saw in the newspaper. The Pentagon apparently does not want to talk about your dad. I wonder why?”
“I guess they have their reasons.” He hesitated. “So how much do I owe you?”
Michelle gazed blankly at him. “Why do I detect finality with that question?”
Tyler looked up. “What?”
“You just hired us and now it sounds like you want to fire us.”
“I’m not firing you.”