Page 115 of Evidence of a Folktale

“It’s just the deal’s going to return to his death collecting, and Draven will continue to star in this show, and the world will love him for playing a hero when he’s the worst of us.” She pulled free from his grip and returned to their forgotten coffee.

“You can’t fix everything.”

“But I want to.” She collapsed forward, capturing her face in her hands. “And having you on my side makes me believe I can.”

“If only more people were like you.” Eamon rubbed her back as he kissed her head. “But as you often remind me, we aren’t God. We can only do so much.” He shifted to kiss her neck as a reminder. “And black magic is an art best avoided.”

“I know.”

“Detective…?”

“I know, I know.” She stood up, her stubborn streak struggling not to argue with him, even though he was right.

“I love you, that’s all, and I don’t need any more black magic trying to steal you from me.” He scanned the station, and confident that no one was watching, he slapped her lovingly on the backside. “And on that note, you don’t need me here anymore, so I’llgohang out with your dog. After last night, I feel terrible leaving him alone.”

“Me too. His face when we left this morning made me want to cry.” She rubbed his chest, not ready for him to leave. The storm explained his presence, but if he kept hanging around, officers might ask questions neither she nor Griffin cared to answer. “But with how much time you spend with him compared to me, you’ll have to stop calling him my dog.”

“No. He’s your dog.” Eamon kissed her cheek before pulling out his phone to order a cab. “He won’t become my dog until youbothlive with me.”

“So, we’re back on that topic?” Bel smiled, her heart lighter at the return of his favorite request.

“Yes, we are.” He winked at her as he strode through the station. “And just remember, all you gotta do to shut me up is agree.”

“I can’t believeit was Rollo,” Olivia said as she sank into her desk’s chair. She’d finally returned to Bajka, conveniently after Bel had almost finished the daunting stack of paperwork. “I worked alongside him for months… I don’t understand. Poor Violet. Have you talked to her?”

“I have.” Bel glanced up from her work to study her partner. The blonde hair. The soft features. The southern accentspokenin a sweet voice. She loved her friend, and even if Olivia only ever offered her professional comradery, she’d accept it.

“How was she?” Olivia asked. “Should I stop by after work to be with her?”

“That’s a good…” Bel’s voice stuck in her throat when she caught sight of Griffin over Olivia’s shoulder. He was on the phone, but his movements warned something was wrong.

“What?” Olivia followed her line of sight, and as if controlled by one mind, the detectives pushed free of their chairs and rushed into the sheriff’s office.

“What happened?” Bel asked when their boss slammed the phone back into its cradle.

“Rollo’s transport never arrived,” he said, collapsing into his chair with disbelief painted across his features. “They lost contact with the drivers a few hours ago, and they just called to explain why. There was a crash.”

“Oh god.” Olivia’s fingers flew to her lips to catch her surprise. “The roads are still pretty bad. It’s why it took me so long to drive home. Is that what happened?”

“They aren’t sure,” Griffin answered. “They found the vehicle upside down. The disturbance at the scene suggests it rolled through the snow before hitting the trees.”

“The officers?” Bel asked.

“Alive. They were transported to the hospital, but they were mostly bruised.Seemsthe damage was predominantly contained to the rear.”

“Thank goodness,” Olivia said.

“And Rollo?” Bel asked what they were all thinking.

“Gone,” Griffin said. “The back half of the van was ripped apart in the crash, and there’s no sign of him or his body. They’re organizing a manhunt, but as of right now, they have no leads.”

“Oh my god.” Olivia crossed the floor and sank to their boss’ couch. “He’s on foot, and it’s freezing. I would guess he’sinjured as well, so he can’t have gone far.”

“No.” Griffin pinned Bel with his gaze as if to tell her he suspected thenextwords to fall from his lips were a lie. “No, he couldn’t have.”

“Kitchen,”Eamon called as she opened the front door, and a second later, seventy pounds of black slid across the floor to plow into her shins. Bel shed her snowy boots and oversized coat and then scooped her squirming pitbull into a hug before carrying him toward Eamon’s voice.

“I didn’t have it in me to cook,” he said, kissing her cheek hello only to get a face full of dog slobber as Cerberus joined in. “So, I ordered pizza.”

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