Epilogue

Lindsey

Detective Skinner drank our coffee while sending us the hairy eyeball over our kitchen table. "Did you kill him?"

Brody and I shared a confused glance. Feigned, of course, but still confused.

"Uh, no," Brody replied, his voice slow, reluctant. "I showed up at the designated place, and Austin took off. Since Lindsey powered up her phone, I was able to find her. Get her free."

I displayed my torn and bloody, and painful, wrists for Skinner to see. "He had me tied up in the woods. I got my phone out, turned it on. Brody found me and cut me loose."

Skinner nodded, accepting that much. "So. You killed him. Yes?"

Brody rolled his eyes. "No, dammit. Haven't you been listening? Rivers saw I didn't have his cash, then took off. Drove away. Gone. Hit the road. Vamoosed."

"So why did we find his Lincoln at the drop site?" Skinner's brows rose as he looked at us over his cup.

My jaw dropped. Brody sent me a look that I couldn't interpret.

"Uh," Brody stammered. "I don't know. Maybe he had a second car, one nobody could trace."

"Uh, huh." Skinner sipped his coffee.

"Look at my hands," I snapped. "Rivers had me tied up. Brody found me. If he hadn't, I'd still be out there, dying from exposure."

"In summer? The temps at night are like sixty degrees. Sorry, Lindsey, that dog won't hunt."

"What makes you think I killed him?" Brody demanded.

"Because he's gone, his car's impounded, Lindsey's free, and almost unharmed." Skinner smirked over his cup. "C'mon, fess up. Tell your uncle detective what really happened."

"He ran off," Brody yelled. "I found Lindsey and got her loose. That's it. End of story."

"What about the explosion?"

I blinked. "What explosion?"

"Oh, come off it," Skinner roared, leaning over the table, his eyes hot. "The one in the woods. The one everyone in the area saw, including the helicopter I had tailing Brody. The chopper that reported strange fires in the sky, fires that shouldn't have been there. Tell me about those."

I shut my jaw. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Skinner smiled, then sipped from his mug. "You two are dragons. Aren't you?"

If he'd pulled a gun and shot me in the chest, I couldn't have been more stunned. I glanced at Brody, quickly observed his shock, then turned back to Skinner. "What?" I whispered.

"Give me a break," Skinner snapped, glowering. "I know about dragon shifters. And you two have the hallmark traits of dragons. Tell me I'm wrong."

I shared a long look with Brody, not knowing what to say.

"If you know about us," Brody demanded, "then why ask?"

"So I know the truth. No, I won't put that part into my report. Dragons, are, er, not talked about very much. Rivers took off, escaped as you said he did. Stole a vehicle, who knows. Just tell me if you killed him. That's all I ask."

Brody gripped my hand. "Yeah. We did. He'll never deal in fentanyl, or any other substance, again. Is that what you want?"

"Yeah." Skinner smiled, a kind, gentle sort of smile. "It is. He's off the streets, folks are safer, and I don't have to look for him. Thanks for the public service, kids."

I chuckled. "You're welcome."

Skinner stood to shake our hands. "I like a happy ending. Am I invited to your wedding?"

"You know you are."

I leaned over the table to hug him. "And to our baby's birth celebration. Don't leave us, man."

Skinner kissed my cheek. "Never."