12 - (Shira) walked slowly into the third stall from the door, stepped up onto the toilet seat and felt along the narrow rim of the left-hand partition. There! A bead of paint? Better not try to move it, in case. She jumped down, ran to fetch MacAllister. A moment later, he gingerly lifted down a tiny silver bead.

“Well, I’ll be,” he said, grinning proudly down on her. “You did it. That was pretty smart. How old are you?”

“Nineteen,” she said primly. “Nineteen last month. Leo.”

“Ummm. It figures.”