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Genesis’ eyes widen when he sees the money Victoria pulls out of Pazcuso’s wallet.
“That’s too generous, my dear. We were happy to help,” Mr. Minegold waves it away. “But if you could put my share to the Team Paws charity, I would love that. It’s local, you know.”
“Got it. Also, there’s a certain young lady in Ohio who could use this.” I tap the wallet Victoria passes me.
“Good idea. What about the car?” Vic asks.
I look it over. It’s a long, sleek SUV. Black on black.
“I think you could replace that beat-up old thing you drive, Vic. I’m sure Manny could sell it for you on the lot. My pickup has no back seats. We need somewhere to put a car seat when we take care of Emma.”
“Emma? The baby, is she here?” Mr. Minegold cries.
“Not yet, but let me check my phone. I probably have updates...”
THAT’S HOW WE RANG in the new year. Watching a dragon turn five mobsters into ashes, talking about the NICU expansion that Pine Ridge really ought to have, and scrubbing blood out of a crypt. We had to burn Lazarus’ armchair, but we saved the hotplate-slash-camp stove thing. Mr. Minegold assures me the local police are paranormal-friendly and will understand our unique situation.
As for the car?
I know a mechanic who can fudge a little paperwork and make sure that everything is legal about my taking “ownership” of it.
Just as we’re adjusting the seats in Pazcuso’s luxury ride so I can reach the pedals, Lazarus’ phone rings.
“Happy New Year’s, my darlings!” Rhea whispers.
“Hi, Mom!” Laz cries.
“I figured you’d still be up. I can’t talk loudly, because Hannah’s finally asleep, and I’m standing in the hospital hallway. I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”
Genesis backs away, hands up in the universal “I was never here” gesture.
Graham flies off.
Mr. Minegold tips his fedora and seems to melt into the icy mist flowing around the graves.
“Not a thing,” I smile.
“Oh, good. We have some news. I’m not sure if it’s good or not, but it looks like they’ll take the failed cerclage out today—that is, later today. Probably mid-afternoon, I’m hearing, and then Hannah will probably have Emma in the next few hours after that. Almost twenty-nine weeks, and that’s... That’s amazing. A really good chance that all will go well with a few weeks in the NICU.”
“We wish you guys could be here,” Manny’s voice chimes in.
“But there’s no point. She won’t be able to have visitors at first, but in a few weeks, you guys can come up on the weekend. God willing.”
“What a wonderful way to start the new year, Dad,” Laz murmurs, arm around me.
“We can’t wait to meet her,” I say, squeezing him back.
“You two okay? The shop still standing? No more fires, Laz?”
Lazarus and I exchange a look at the large pile of ashes we’re going to sweep up and use to grit the walks around the shop.
“Uh. No more kitchen emergencies,” Lazarus tells the truth.
“You two aren’t fighting, are you?” Rhea’s voice is playfully suspicious.
I look at Lazarus. Bloody. Bullet hole in his sleeve. Torn skin on his arm peeking through.
I look at my arms and hands. They’re covered in crimson spatters.
