Deirdre and Tweedledee, Ryan McGlynn, were in the foyer, a fact that brought our flirtation, or was it seduction, to a close. As I had predicted, they were dressed very much alike once again. I searched the two men's faces for some family similarity, but the resemblance seemed to stop at their age, which was about the same, their clothes and demeanor. McGlynn was a little heavier, not quite in such good trim as Charles, and more relaxed in outlook. He was smoothly seeing a stately dowager out the door, telling her not to worry, that everything would be taken care of. She looked pathetically grateful, considering what she was going to have to pay to be able to stop worrying. "We've met, have we not?" he said, turning his charm on me. "Ms… ?" "McClintoch," McCafferty said. "Ms. McClintoch is here to see to details about her friend's inheritance from Eamon Byrne's estate." "Of course, Second Chance," he said, shaking my hand. "I must compliment you on your offices," I said. "Mr. McCafferty has been showing me around." "They are grand, aren't they?" McGlynn responded.
