Page 47 of Be A Detective, They Said. It’ll Be Fun, They Said

Epilogue

One month later…

Hank sat ever so patiently as Olivia and Charlie braided his long hair, laughing and smiling while their small fingers worked through his thick mane.

“You’re a good sport, dude,” Nina said, slapping him on the back.

Hank’s eyes twinkled—now that we could see them, that is. His warm personality and gentle nature had won us all over.

Yes. We’d done as promised. We invited Hank to have dinner with us and meet the children, and he was everything we’d hoped for.

He’d shown up at Nina’s castle, handpicked flowers in hand, smelling like he’d been dipped in sunshine and rose petals. His chocolate brown hair was fluffy and full, shining beneath the murder basements lights like he’d come directly from a Pantene commercial shoot.

He barely fit through the doorway, but we’d managed to squeeze him in, and now he was playing with the children, proving he was indeed a good sport, judging by the number of multicolored ribbons he had in his hair.

Hank turned out to be a true delight, a conversationalist extraordinaire and incredibly smart.

Arch had prepared a meal to feed a kingdom in preparation for Hank’s visit. Prime rib roast and roasted pork with sauerkraut, honey ham, au gratin potatoes, noodle casserole, peas and carrots…and Hank had eaten all of it quite gratefully. He claimed he’d never eaten much else but the berries and herbs he found in the woods.

Arch couldn’t bear to hear of the culinary delights Hank had been denied, so he promised to whip up a few batches of food he could take with him until the next time he came for dinner.

Now, as we digested the fabulous meal and gathered in small groups, I smiled, watching my Sam and his father, along with Uncle Keegan, Darnell, Carl and Uncle Greg, play a game of chess.

My heart constricted, a sharp tug at all that could have been lost, but we’d somehow managed to save.

“What’cha thinkin’ about?” Nina asked me as I sipped my tea in the murder basement’s waiting room.

I patted the place beside me on the settee she hated so much. “I was thinking how grateful I am to have everyone here together, and to add a new member to the framily. And that Bigfoot is real and playing dress-up with our girls.”

Nina laughed, wrapping her arm around my shoulders, settling next to me. “He damn well is.” She paused a moment, watching the men and Sam play, then she asked, “Have you heard how Wings is doing? Mrs. Goodfellow?”

Mrs. Goodfellow, being the cheerful sprite she was, had bounced right back, vowing to continue to move forward.

Neerie agreed to seek help for her obsession with conspiracies, even though she’d been right about aliens. Apparently, it had been one of the causes of her divorce from Thad, and now that she was talking to a licensed therapist, she realized it was one thing to chase a theory, entirely another to immerse yourself in them and work your whole life around investigating them.

She’d given up her position in the PTA, offering it to me, but when I thought about how I wanted to spend my time, it was with my family and friends. Not organizing bake sales. So I’d turned her down. Neerie, in turn, passed it on to, of all people, Solange—who she’d profusely apologized to for her poor behavior.

She’d also thanked me, thanked us, for finding her, for returning her safely to her family, and for figuring out what she meant by “it’s in the basement.”

When we asked her who she’d been talking to on the phone at Susie’s, she said it was another paranormal conspiracy theory buddy—someone she thought she could trust with what she believed was happening at the school.

But this friend called her crazy when she brought up aliens, so she deleted him from her phone. Which explains why there were no outgoing or incoming calls for Tottington to track.

Neerie also hadn’t meant to text Earl, just as Melba said. Neerie meant to text Thad, but she never got to finish the text to explain there had once been a basement at the school, before she was kidnapped by the alien.

“She’s doing pretty good. She and Thad are going to try to work things out, and that makes me so happy for little Tamlin.”

“Me, too, Alien-ator. Me, too.”

I giggled. They’d been teasing me about using what I’d seen in Alien to get away from Groot, and it was all in fun, but sometimes when I closed my eyes at night, I still saw him, looming over me, his bulbous eyes watching me…and it left me afraid. I’d tuck myself into Heath, and he’d hold me close to keep my terror at bay, but it still left me worried that I hadn’t done enough.

Groot said he’d come to gather paranormal strength to make a race of super-soldiers, so he could take over Earth. Were there more like him?

Were they here now? Would they come back and try again?

I’d been so terrified, I never asked the questions I should have, maybe sought some information about where he came from, if anyone else was involved in this coup, several months in the making, but I certainly had called for a meeting with the council to make them aware of what I’d learned, and of course, my deep fear they’d come back and try again.

Marty plopped down on Nina’s lap and gave me a hard hug before brushing my hair from my face. “I know that faraway look, Wanda. I know what you’re thinking about. Stop. You can’t predict the future. You can’t play what-if here. Council and clan members alike are aware now. That’s all we can do. Besides, I have some good news that might cheer you up.”

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