Flynn waved impatiently. “You must have figured out I'm an ex-criminal. You said it yourself, remember: a crook or a saint.”
She bounced uneasily on the balls of her feet.
He narrowed his eyes. “And don't even thinkabout getting 'holier than thou', because you have no idea what...”
Sterling interrupted. “What kindof crook are we talking here?”
By this time the high level of ambient stress over the past few hours had put Flynn into a thoroughly foul mood. “Why do you want to know?” he snapped. “Deciding whether to hide the spoons?”
She raised her eyebrows, and he was ashamed of his burst of temper. “Sorry,” he muttered.
“Apology accepted – but I really didn't mean to pry.”
He sighed. “It's...not the part of my life I most like to relive. But it's reasonable that you want to know. General all-purpose thief, if that's even a category. Family business, till dad got busted and I took off.”