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premonitions. That’s when I decided I had to do something myself before anything bad happened to my dad.”
    Those purple eyes of hers were suspiciously shiny. Sully wondered if Phil Munro was worthy of her tears. God knew his own father had never been worthy of a passing thought much less real concern. Iris’s concern worried him, nagged at him.
    “Iris, did you overhear something that scared you? Maybe someone threatening your dad? An upsetting phone call?”
    She looked up at Jessica again and then said, “No, sir.”
    “Iris, look at me, not Miss Daniels,” he ordered sharply. “Are you sure?”
    “Yes, sir. It was just a feeling.”
    Sully wasn’t satisfied, but he let the issue drop for the moment. “Why didn’t you tell the police who you really were?”
    “I got scared that I was doing the wrong thing. Or that Daddy would be mad. And the policeman’s voice was … yuck. Just full of negative energy. I told him I was Madame Evangeline and hung up as quick as I could.”
    Negative energy
? he echoed silently. She had actually shivered when she said it. Despite the number of times she had looked to Jessica for reassurance, this was not a rehearsed act. Little Iris was a bona fide New Age flake in training. Sully stood up and paced a few steps, wondering why he was surprised the day was ending exactly as it had begun—in the company of flakes.
    Unfortunately, he had that tickle at the back of his neck again—the one that signaled trouble. Something wasn’t right, but he couldn’t get a handle on it. Maybe his instincts just needed more time to adjust to a life away from the
badlands
and bad guys. He was so used to being lied to that he assumed the worst. Even of children.
    “Mr. Kincaid, I didn’t mean to make trouble.”
    “She didn’t,” Jessica instantly seconded. “Can’t we just forget this ever happened?”
    At her question he stopped pacing. It was tempting, if for no other reason than he could walk away and the lady would owe him one. Turning to face them, he was struck by the contrasts between the two. Jessica was as dark as Iris was fair. One was an abundantly sexy woman; the other was barely past skinned knees and teddy bears. Most disturbing of all was his impression that the aunt was as guilty as the girl was innocent.
    Iris was certainly a far cry from his usual brand of bad guy. She was shorter, younger, and unarmed. But no matter how sincere her actions might have been, what she did was wrong. He had to impress upon her the seriousness of involving the police without facts. It was his
job
to cut short the career of Madame Evangeline and put the fear of God in Iris.
    So, why did he feel like an ogre? Because only monsters frightened children. Sully knew all about monsters. He’d lived with one for sixteen years and hunted them for almost as long. And then there was the nagging feeling that more was going on here than met the eye.
    Finally making a decision, he spoke to Jessica, “Iris made a false report to the police. This isn’t something we normally ignore.”
    Jessica straightened as she realized what he was trying to convey without tipping Iris. She had barely mouthed a relieved thank-you before he focused on the girl.
    As Jessica watched him, she wondered if he knew how uncomfortable he looked. Obviously reading the riot act to children wasn’t standard procedure for him. Jessica imagined taking a bullet was higher on the list of things he’d rather be doing.
    “Iris, do you know what it means to cry wolf?” he asked sharply.
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Good. Because crying wolf is what you did with that stunt of yours. I’ve wasted an entire day questioning people who had better things to do than talk to me about a hoax.”
    “I-I’m sorry.”
    “Next time you call the police, we might not believe you.”
    “I didn’t think about that.”
    “Well, you think about it, and while you’re thinking, think about the money you cost this city. Money that your daddy may be