“Flynn? You’re not telling me something.”
“I tried, Clara, I really did.”
“And?”
“He insisted the dog, whom he called Hamburger, if you can believe that, was his. Said he had him since he was a puppy, but he mixed up the town where he got him when he mentioned it a second time, which does not bode well for the truth. I could tell he was lying through his teeth too. He didn’t exactly have the best poker face, if you know what I mean.”
“And you allowed him to go on his way.” Clara sighed. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to blame you, not at all. I’d be a really shitty friend if I did that. Did you at least get his name?”
“He said it was Mike. I didn’t get a last name.” Flynn practically whispered the last part, he was so embarrassed and felt so, well, dumb.
“Well, how many Mikes can there be in Seattle? Wait! Don’t answer that.”