“Who's that new guy with the snooty accent who came out and talked to the police?" Evan persisted. "He looks like some kind of male model.""That's just my cousin Ian," Amy explained."Not much of a family resemblance," Evan noted sourly."He's like a twenty-fifth cousin, ten times removed."Evan was not satisfied.”

“Who's Evan?" Ian asked."Amy's boyfriend!""Amy, since when do you have a boyfriend?" Ian probed."Since none of your business!”

“Where's Amy?" Ian put in. "Will you please get her to call that Evan character? He rings here twenty times a day. He's either the most mule-headed person who ever lived, or he really likes your sister. She has to have mercy on him–on all of us!”

“Sinead broke in. "The cops need to know what to do with Evan, Amy. What should I tell them?""Shoot to kill?" Ian suggested.”

“It was no place for a Kabra, not even a poor one living in exile with a psychopathic cat.He approached the counter and rand the bell with authority. The clerk turned around.Evan Tolliver."You're Amy's cousin!""Yes, I am," Ian confirmed. "I have here a list of items–""Have you heard from her?" Evan interrupted. "Is she okay?""Her health is excellent.""No, I mean–"Ian sighed. "Why should you care? She promises to phone you, and she doesn't. You were nearly arrested, thanks to her. There's a message in there somewhere, don't you agree?"Evan nodded sadly. "I kind of think so, too. But we were awesome together. She's smart, fun to be with, and not immature like most of the girls in our school. It's as if she has an automatic switch for when it's time to be serious–she can almost be old beyond her years at times. Where do you learn something like that?""I have no earthly idea," Ian lied.”

“Dan was suspicious. "How did he find out where we were staying?"Amy frowned. "I think that's the message inside the message. He wants us to know that he has a long reach–that's he's rich and powerful.""Like we'll see his giant mansion and assume he works at Burger King," scoffed Dan.”

“Amy turned to Nellie. "Can you create a diversion to draw the clerk outside?"The au pair was wary. "What kind of diversion?""You could pretend to be lost," Dan proposed. "The guy comes out to give you directions, and we slip inside.""That's the most sexist idea I've ever heard," Nellie said harshly. "I'm female, so I have to be clueless. He's male, so he's got a great sense of direction.""Maybe you're from out of town," Dan suggested. "Wait–you are from out of town."Nellie stashed their bags under a bench and set Saladin on the seat with a stern "You're the watchcat. Anybody touches those bags, unleash your inner tiger."The Egyptian Mau surveyed the street uncertainly. "Mrrp." Nellie sighed. "Lucky for us there's no one around. Okay, I'm going in there. Be ready."The clerk said something to her–probably May I help you? She smiled apologetically. "I don't speak Italian.""Ah–you are American." His accent was heavy, but he seemed eager to please. "I will assist you." He took in her black nail polish and nose ring. "Punk, perhaps, is your enjoyment?""More like a punk/reggae fusion," Nellie replied thoughtfully. "With a country feel. And operatic vocals."The clerk stared in perplexity.Nellie began to tour the aisles, pulling out CDs left and right. "Ah–Artic Monkeys–that's what I'm talking about. And some Bad Brains–from the eighties. Foo Fighters–I'll need a couple from those guys. And don't forget Linkin Park..."He watched in awe as she stacked up an enormous armload of music. "There," she finished, slapping Frank Zappa's Greatest Hits on top of the pile. "That should do for a start.""You are a music lover," said the wide-eyed cashier."No, I'm a kleptomaniac." And she dashed out the door.”