Sport action simulation games, difficult stunt games, hard skill games. Rating : 9. They are blocking it. This should solve it. Make sure that Javascript is Enabled in your device browser. Make sure that No Ad Blocker is enabled on your browser Many game developers only income source is through ads, so they don't make the games available if ads are blocked.
You need a High Speed internet connection because some games use large files which take a minute or two to load for the first time. Playing on a different device or browser with different settings can often solve the issue. Games are not available in all jurisdictions outside of the USA. He wants to return the Priest, the King of Atlantis and the Ancient Emperor so he can use them to create a new world order!
Claire and her friends must find out who the villain is and stop him and all his minions. Family Puzzle. Grand Master Chess 3. Portal of Evil: Stolen Runes. Word Quest. Lovely Puzzle. Underwater Puzzle. Funny Chess.
Apothecarium: The Renaissance of Evil. Royal Jigsaw. Rainbow Web 2. Jigsaw Boom. We'd make a good team, you and me. I know a ton of people who are always looking for private investigators. Dad's friends and all. In fact, there's one woman in our neighbourhood who just lost a diamond necklace.
She told my mom she thinks it's stolen but that she can't exactly call the police about it. I don't know why. But she's really upset. Wouldn't that be a great case for you and me to solve? And then he's gone. Sitting at the head table with his dad and Johnny Jr. His words play over and over in my head.
If only. That would have been the end of it except that the next day when Mom comes home from work, she has an envelope for me and is looking at me strangely. She hands it to me. It's from Harry Phillips, she says. I blush. Goofy, I know. But it's the way Mom is looking at me.
Like maybe I have a crush on Harry Phillips or maybe, totally unlikely, he has some kind of interest in me. But I rip open the envelope because I'm eager to read what he has to say. The creamy white paper has the Phillips company logo with the address, phone number and email address below.
Dear Miss Carmichael, With regard to our business proposition discussed on December 4 th , at p. I think it would be mutually beneficial to both of us. I eagerly await your reply regarding this matter. Yours sincerely, Harry Phillips Division manager The unlikely association of Meg and Harry 8 Phyllis must have typed it up but Harry's signature is boldly written across the bottom and he's been careful to add his direct extension beside it.
Maybe if I weren't so desperate, I would ignore the letter. But as things are, I go to bed knowing I'll be phoning Harry tomorrow at exactly a.
I told my dad I had a business meeting, says Harry, biting into a sandwich. When I phoned and got Phyllis and then Harry , he suggested we meet for lunch. He was so thrilled, continues Harry, reaching for his coffee. He didn't even ask me who I was meeting with. Since this is a business luncheon, Harry tells me to order whatever I want.
His corporate expense account covers business luncheons. I'm having a sliced turkey sandwich and a caramel cappuccino. Harry and I have agreed that it might be wild and it might be crazy, but we are going to give it a go.
He will tell Mrs. Shanklin, the lady who has lost the necklace, that we would like to have a try at solving the case. We'll charge her nothing but the expenses on the understanding that if we succeed, she'll discreetly tell all her friends how wonderful we are.
What will your Dad think of all this? I ask. Hard to say, says Harry, biting into a biscotti. He sure doesn't need me at the office. Phyllis can do my job. I think he'll be glad that I'm doing something. What about your mom?
Will she like the idea? Yeah, the case sounds safe enough. No murders or anything. She knows I want to be a cop more than anything. She'll be cool about it. Dad'll burst his buttons with pride. Especially if we solve it. And we will. You're sure your dad will be OK with this? You know, my mom works for him and all. Yeah, it'll be fine.
Business is good. He's making loads of money. He's happy. Harry reaches for his large paper cup of coffee. My father's an atheist. The love of money vs. So naturally I became a Christian. My eyebrows go up. Its a strange confession. I am definitely not a Christian. Well, I do like to pray occasionally, about matters in my life and all that.
Just don't do it out loud. I'll do my best. Just ignore me if my lips move slightly. He looks at me like he's trying to contain his amusement. Of course, scripture forbids me from being unequally yoked with an unbeliever, so I hesitate to form any kind of absolute partnership with you.
Unequally yoked? I can't believe my ears. You mean, like cows ploughing a field, or. Oxen, interrupts Harry. Oxen plough the fields. The females are used for milking. I'm not an ox and if it will make you feel better, we can skip the whole partnership thing and just split the profits.
I can live with that. I've never really understood the whole business end of things. I kind of suspect his father will be relieved to have him out of the company. Johnny, now he's the one with the brains for business, continues Harry.
But I like to look at things from the perspective of how they honour God. How they honour God? I cant believe my ears. I also cant believe what pops out of my mouth. Shut up, Harry, I say to him. Harry grins. Boy, we're going to be a great team. I've prayed all about this. We'll be fine. Do you think you could lay off the religious talk?
I say. We're heading around a circular driveway that leads to Mrs. Shanklin's front door and our first case. I had met Harry that morning at his house, no, more like his estate, and then we had walked over to Mrs.
Shanklin's estate. In my neighbourhood, the distance would have been covered in five minutes. In Harry's neighbourhood, thanks to large properties and houses about a mile back from the road, it has taken 40 minutes. Just wanted you to know, says Harry. I feel more at peace with something when I've taken it to God. Taken it to God? I turn to look up at him. Harry, you're a sap!
We're going to solve this mystery! I've got brains, you know! Harry doesn't look too upset. You can persecute me all you want, he says. But you can't stop me from praying. Prayer makes a difference. Persecute you? How exactly did I persecute you? In fact, I welcome the rude remarks. It makes me feel part of the greater Christian community. Christians are persecuted in China, you know.
And in most parts of the world they face a certain measure of hostility depending on the government in power. Shut up, Harry, I say. We are at the front door now. I run a finger through my long hair now coated in snow -- before pressing the doorbell.
Harry, I notice, doesn't seem nervous at all. His brown hair is dishevelled and he's wearing a leather aviator's jacket with jeans. His ears are warm because he's wearing an absurd pair of purple earmuffs. On the other hand, despite the cold, I'm in a dress, pantyhose, heels and my mom's winter dress coat. Great outfit if you want to go from the car straight into the restaurant, but lousy for a minute hike on a snowy day.
Shanklin doesn't answer her own door. I'm sort of expecting some butler-looking guy to answer the large wooden door, but it's a middle-aged maid wearing a simple black dress with a white apron. She opens the door wide enough to allow us to enter and tells us that we are expected. We are directed to wait in a cool sitting room that runs off of the large foyer.
I say sitting room because it doesn't feel like a living room. There is nothing cosy about it. It looks more like a museum paintings on the wall, some of them several feet long. The furniture could be scattered around Versailles. I gingerly sit down on something that looks about two hundred years old and feels lumpy. Harry is more comfortable with the whole arrangement and collapses onto a chaise longue. Shanklin enters the room and Harry stands right up again. She is older, older than my mom anyhow, with a grey bob, a simple navy blue dress with pearl earrings and a pearl necklace.
The pearls are real, I'm sure. Her smile is for Harry and only covers me in the periphery. It is to Harry that she talks, sitting down across from him in a chair that matches the one I'm perched on. I'm so glad you called, she says. Her weary smile is genuine.
Is this a new venture for you, then? It's something we've just started. I hope he doesn't blow this. And when I heard of your situation, I knew we could help you. He's actually projecting confidence. Well, I'm glad you called. To be quite honest, I didn't know where to turn. If I call the police, they'll think I'm a lunatic. And I'm so worried about Jett I can hardly think. Harry nods sympathetically.
Who's Jett? I'm looking back and forth at Harry and at Mrs. Shanklin, but they aren't looking at me. I'll have to pick it up as it goes along. I know Jett doesn't have anything to do with this, continues Mrs. But he's all I can think about right now. Shanklin's voice drifts off as she stares at a painting on the wall, a field with people in the distance, maybe harvesting something. I don't think she's really looking at the picture.
I know, I know, says Harry soothingly. There's a pause and I almost have time to get nervous. Actually, the first thing I want to do is to talk to Jett, says Harry. Shanklin looks at him. There is interest in her eyes. I think we should find Jett first. And that's why Meg and I are the right ones to investigate this. Shanklin glances at me, like she's seeing me for the first time. Now, of course, continues Harry.
In all fairness, I have to tell you we're just getting started. So we won't charge anything to investigate your stolen necklace.
But we will have to bill you for our expenses. Boy, he's good. He sounds humble and capable at the same time. Shanklin waves a hand. I understand. I wouldn't have it any other way. Do you really think you can find Jett?
Harry nods. Its quite possible, yes. This is the first hope I've had in days. Shanklin's eyes are focused entirely on Harry. The unlikely association of Meg and Harry 14 I totally understand, says Harry. And he really sounds like he does. Now, I say, leaning forward. Even though this is the first time Ive heard of Jett, I think it's time to insert myself into the conversation. I think what we need to do is. I think we need to see Jett's room, says Harry, standing up.
Of course, says Mrs. Shanklin, also standing up. My feeling is Jett may know something about this, Mrs. Shanklin, says Harry, as we exit the sitting room. I am forced to follow along behind them.
So often, people know more than they realize. You might be right! From her tone, you would think she is talking to Sherlock Holmes himself. Jett is so observant about things! And he was so close to his grandmother. He spent entire summers with her, you know. OK, so at this point, I would make a wild guess that Jett is Mrs.
Shanklin's son. What his grandmother has to do with it, I have no idea. But I would go so far as to presume that Jett and Mrs. Shanklin's necklace disappeared at about the same time. I really wish that I had taken the time to grill Harry about this case.
Why wasnt I thinking? Now he's in the lead and I'm trailing behind. We are going up a winding staircase. Large chandelier above us. The upstairs hallway is lined with more well-framed pictures of nothing in particular. The doors are shut and there are occasional little end tables with floral arrangements between the doorways.
Honestly, this house could be a Hollywood set. I expect Jett's room to be a total contrast. Black, I suspect. Everything black. Somehow my mind has put Jett and black together. I am expecting heavy-metal posters on the wall and an unmade bed. But his room matches the rest of the house. It's blue, with a nautical theme. Not babyish, but definitely boyish. There are paintings of tall ships out in the middle of the ocean.
Everything is neat and orderly. The bed is made. The bedspread is blue and white with small anchors around the edge.
At this point, I have no idea as to what the relationship between Jett and the missing necklace is. It's too much to expect that it will be something obvious. Shanklin would have already found a receipt for a plane ticket or would have noticed a Frommer's guide to Mexico sitting around on his dresser.
This is the point where I will have to take over. Discreetly, I open a dresser drawer and start to carefully move stuff around. Shanklin is eyeing me as if I might do some damage. The top drawer is full of miscellaneous junk.
Kind of like that kitchen drawer that gets everything thrown into it. This drawer has an old doorknob, some keys, a lot of old coins, some unidentifiable brass objects, rocks, a whole collection of model dinosaurs, some dry pine cones, an old piece of paper.
I have my doubts that this drawer will be of any use to us. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Mrs. Shanklin pulling a handkerchief out of her sleeve. That's his treasure drawer, she says, dabbing at the corner of her eyes. He's been collecting things since he was a little boy. Always picking things up off the ground.
It's a filthy habit and we strongly discouraged it. I shut the drawer. I open the next drawer and am almost knocked off my feet by Harry who has suddenly appeared at my side and is opening the top drawer again. What the. I shut my mouth when I realize Mrs. Shanklin is looking at me with disapproval. Harry has pulled out the piece of paper and moved back next to Mrs. What's this, ma'am? Shanklin glances at it. A map, I think. Harry is diplomatic enough not to sarcastically say that any half-brain could have figured that out.
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