T he mayor’s Concert on the South Lawn went forward that weekend, and Bree-yark drove Vega, Tony, and me to Central Park. It was a sunny Saturday in mid-June, not too hot, with a pleasant breeze blowing through the trees. Several thousand people turned out, most of them concentrated around the new bandshell, where a rock group was jamming.
We chose a place on the far edge of the lawn to spare Bree-yark’s sensitive ears. Tony spotted a kids’ soccer game and ran over to join in. As Vega and I spread out a blanket, it seemed impossible we’d battled a goblin brigade here just a couple years earlier and barely escaped a napalm drop.
“Oh, look,” she said. “It’s Mae.”
Bree-yark started and followed her pointed finger. Sure enough, Mae Johnson was crossing the lawn toward us with her pet carrier in one hand and a large wicker basket in the other.
“You ambushed me,” Bree-yark said.
“It’s just a picnic, no pressure.” I clapped his back. “Why don’t you go give her a hand?”
His eyes brightened in alarm, but the squalling of a guitar solo replaced the panic with ear-flattening irritation. Grumbling that he should have known what we were up to, he hustled over to meet her.
“Think he’ll forgive us?” Vega asked.
“Depends on how many times he passes out.”
She peered past me. “Well, would you look at that?” she said with a strange smile. “It’s my partner.”
When I turned to find Hoffman ambling over, I knew I’d been ambushed. He appeared considerably better than the last time I’d seen him. In fact, he had an almost calm look about him, thanks in part to his attire. He was wearing a fishing T-shirt, baggy cargo shorts, and a flipflop opposite his ortho boot.
“Hey, guys.” He nodded at Vega before fixing his gaze on me. The bags under his eyes had retreated back into his face, leaving only faint smudges. “I realized I, um, never thanked you for your help on the case.”
My wife had apparently realized that too. She stood to one side with her arms crossed, watching to ensure her detective partner did the deed properly. Hoffman glanced over as he extended his hand. When I accepted his shake, his emotions seemed to take over. He pulled me into an awkward hug.
“I’m not good at these things, Croft,” he whispered harshly. “But you did save my ass.”
“It was a bit of a winding road,” I managed inside his strong embrace, “but we got there eventually.”
He chortled and jerked me hard against him. “I owe you, buddy.”
Something told me he’d forget the promise the next time we butted heads, but I’d take it for now. I patted his broad back.
“Hey, I want you to meet my family,” he said as we separated.
A middle-aged woman with dark hair and two boys had hung back, and he waved them forward now. The boys looked about ten and eight, their thick builds and curly brown hair marking them as Hoffman’s brood.
“This is my wife, Kay,” he said of the surprisingly pretty woman. “And my boys, Joey and Anthony.”
“A pleasure to meet you,” Kay said in a strong New York accent as she handed me a gift-wrapped bottle.
The boys took my hand shyly, the older one tucking a football under his opposite arm. When Hoffman chuckled and ruffled his hair, I could see how proud he was to be a father. I also understood the fear I’d seen on his face when he’d pulled me aside in Bear’s apartment. He’d needed to keep his job not only for his sake, but theirs. I was especially pleased now that I’d been able to help.
“Why don’t you guys join us?” I said, looking over at where Bree-yark was meeting Mae and taking her large basket. “There’s plenty of food.”
“Aw, we’d love to,” Hoffman said, “but we’ve got a party to get to at her parents’ place.”
“It’s their fiftieth wedding anniversary,” Kay explained, taking her husband’s hand.
“And I’m in charge of the grill,” he added importantly.
“Well, wish them a happy anniversary for us,” I said, Vega echoing the sentiment.
When the Hoffmans were out of earshot, I said, “Thanks for looking out for me.”
“What do you mean?” Vega nudged me. “That came straight from Hoffman’s heart.”
“Sure it did.”
I unwrapped the gift and snorted. It was a bottle of Discovery Select. Hoffman grinned over a shoulder and shot me a finger pistol. I wasn’t going to touch the scotch, but I’d find a spot for the bottle in my library. Something to remember our case by. I watched him and his family disappear beyond the crowd.
“They actually look like a functioning unit,” I remarked.
“Thanks to Kay,” Vega said. “Hoff lucked out with her big time.”
“Speaking of families…” I turned to her. “I’ve had a lot of time to think this past week. Even though the box disappearing from the loft ended up being a false alarm, I talked to the building’s owner yesterday. Turns out there’s a basement efficiency he’s taken a couple stabs at fixing up, but at this point he’s willing to sell. I could use it for casting and storing anything that seems even borderline iffy. Who knows, it might even help with my phobia,” I added.
She smiled. “Whatever you decide is best, I’ll support.”
Given the concern she’d shown, I’d expected her to be staunchly in favor of the move. “Really?”
“I may not always understand Everson, the magic-user…” She rose onto her tiptoes to kiss me. “But I trust Everson, the man.”
“Then I’ll talk with the owner again Monday, see how low I can get him. We’re going to have a little girl who’ll be able to shoot up and down that ladder before we know it. Best if we have something set up well in advance.”
“See?” she said, telling me I’d given the right answer.
Bree-yark returned with Mae’s basket. He still looked distraught, but Mae was chatting away, and by the time the food had been passed around and we were all settled on our blankets, he looked semi-relaxed. Until we heard a familiar voice…
“Yoo-hoo!”
You’re kidding me, I thought with a groan.
I looked over to see Gretchen prancing toward us, this time in blue capri pants and a striped shirt. She’d pinned an actual sailor’s hat atop her tied-back hair, and an airy red scarf fluttered around her neck.
“What are the odds of running into you here?” she panted happily as she arrived. “Well, Enzo and I are finally off on our travels. In fact, we’re on our way to the pier now.” She nodded at her boyfriend, who was standing in another suit and broad-rimmed fedora, his arms loaded with suitcases.
“Our boat leaves in thirty minutes.”
“And your route just happened to take you through Central Park?” I asked dryly.
“Unless of course someone thinks I shouldn’t go,” she continued, ignoring me. “In fact, now would be the time to tell me.”
She looked pointedly at Bree-yark, who was glancing between her and Enzo. But like me, he seemed to be noticing something off about Gretchen’s boyfriend. Standing in full sun, his proportions didn’t seem quite right. And why was she always keeping him at a distance?
When the wind picked up, I angled my cane and released a force invocation just strong enough to send the fedora toppling from his head. A monstrous face with a jutting jaw appeared, causing Gretchen to turn with a start. She snapped her fingers, restoring the hat to his head, but Bree-yark had already seen enough.
“Enzo’s a … shaved bugbear?” he asked.
“Why, of course not!” Gretchen replied with a nervous laugh. “Where did you ever get that silly notion? He’s an amazing, adventurous man, who—”
I displaced his hat a second time, causing the bugbear to go lumbering after it. Suitcases trailed behind him, many of them coming open. All were empty.
With a cry of frustration, Gretchen replaced the hat again and strengthened the enchantment she’d been using to control the fae creature. He stopped and knelt, recovering the luggage like a proper gentleman. But it was too late. Bree-yark was snorting laughter, and I was doing my best not to join him.
Gretchen wheeled on us, eyes wide. I feared the worst, but more mortified than outraged, she snapped her fingers and, in twin flashes, disappeared along with her bugbear prop. She didn’t even bother with the luggage.
“I suspect that will be the end of that,” I said.
“I don’t know what just happened,” Mae remarked, wiping her hands off and turning to Bree-yark, “but one thing’s become clear. Either you’re not ready to make an honest woman of me, or you’re too scared to ask. So I’m going to make this as easy as possible. Yes. Now all you have to do is supply the question.”
Bree-yark looked over at me, eyes bright with panic.
I nodded fervently and made a bandage-ripping gesture across my arm.
He turned back to her. “Will you m-marry me?” he stammered.
Laughing, she shook his ear and kissed his cheek. “I just told you.”
Bree-yark released a surprised chortle, the brightness in his eyes softening to a diffuse in-love-ness. Standing, he bowed low before Mae, then helped her to her feet, in full control of himself once more.
“If you’ll excuse us,” he said, “my fiancée and I are going to take a walk. We have a future to discuss.”
“Congratulations, you two,” Vega called.
“I think he’ll forgive us,” I decided, as he escorted her away.
Vega was agreeing when my phone vibrated. It was a text from Trevor of the Sup Squad.
I know we’re done with the Sven business but I got a message from the tech who was working on his facial recognition match. Nothing came up, but he got a few close hits based on morphology. Thought I’d send one along. Congrats on cracking the triple homicide. Hope to work with you again soon.
An image was uploading, but it was going to take a few minutes on my primitive device.
There hadn’t been any matches because Sven had never existed here, something I’d yet to explain to Trevor. I was snapping the phone closed when a prickling rush of magic told me someone was watching. Off to the right, I spotted a shadowy figure hanging out near the edge of the trees.
“Well, speak of the devil.”
“Is that Sven?” Vega asked.
“Yeah, I left him a message at our spot telling him we’d be here.” I waved him over, but he shook his head and waved for me to come to him instead.
“He’s not still afraid of me, is he?” she asked.
I’d finally told Vega about encountering her shadow, how she’d tried to apprehend me for the murders and discharged her weapon at Sven. She’d only asked a couple questions before dropping it. She said she needed to get used to the idea of a living, breathing version of herself existing elsewhere. I didn’t mention her shadow’s marital status. Probably because I would never get used to that.
“No, I think this is something else,” I said. “Will you be all right for a couple minutes?”
“I will if you drag Mae’s basket over here.” She patted her belly. “We’re ready for seconds.”
I did as she asked, kissed her, and was about to join Sven when I remembered something I’d been meaning to ask.
“Oh, hey, what did Larry and his wife get us for our wedding?”
“The private box for the Mets game on Memorial Day,” she said. “Why?”
I snapped my fingers. Damn. “Because I told him we’d used their gift ‘a few times.’”
Vega shook her head as I left and jogged over to where Sven was waiting. Despite the warm weather, he was wearing gray jeans and a long-sleeve hoodie shirt, the straps of his pack hugging his narrow shoulders.
“Hey, buddy,” I said as I arrived in front of him. “I was wondering when I’d see you again. Why don’t you join us?”
“Nah, I’m good.” But he was blinking his dark eyes nervously. “I promised I’d tell you my real name when this was over.”
“Okay.”
“It’s Alec DeFazio, and I’m actually fifteen.”
“I guessed the fifteen part, but it’s good to meet you, Alec DeFazio.”
I shook his hand, then hesitated. DeFazio. I knew that name.
In a flash, I was back at Gowdie’s Antique Store, the hag sisters circling me as they rattled off my failed relationships. Jennifer DeFazio had been one of them, a girl I’d dated in college before she decided I wasn’t exciting enough.
My flip phone hummed, alerting me that the image of the close match had finished uploading. I opened it to find my faculty photo staring back at me.
I raised my stunned eyes to Alec.
“I’m your son,” he said.