I was about to flip the sign on the front door of my office from “Closed” to “Open” when I spotted a bulky black form on the sidewalk. My heart jumped.
Then I recognized my visitor and smiled.
“Papa Bear! You caught me by surprise.” I swung the door open. “Come in.”
I always did love July. But Independence Day ’89 was almost too hot, in more ways than one. I had been in New York since January, so long that my white belts were back in season, theoretically. I was supposed to be on temporary assignment from the DC Metro force, but that loan was…
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When I spotted Sarah Becker enjoying a meal at Luigi’s outdoor café, I ignored my better judgement and approached her. When she saw me coming, she crossed her arms over her chest.
“Detective Jordan. If you remember, my charges over the Gode Tech heist were dismissed.”
I set down a yellowed photograph featuring a man wearing a suit…
Judy Suarez velcroed her orthopedic sneakers and gripped her SIG Sauer. “Of all the days.”
A shotgun blast thundered. Dust cascaded from the bingo hall’s ceiling as the report rattled through my bones. I scrambled beneath the table, hands over my head, mouth dry, heart pummeling my ribcage like a boxer punching a slab of meat.
Ever since the big bad wolf blew down my house of sticks, I’ve lived in my brother Bob’s brick bungalow. I operate my detective business, solving Fairyland’s strange and varied crimes, out of an office in the back wing.
Like many such operations, Frank’s Detective Agency has had its ups and downs.
I flashed my badge at the officer standing guard and ducked under the yellow tape.
“I’m glad you’re here, Inspector Belden.” Officer Fuzzbee’s nose twitched as he hopped over and mopped his brow with a crinkled handkerchief. “I haven’t seen such a gruesome scene since the Heartsville V-day slaughter. Not a pretty sight, I can assure you.”
Let me tell you the story of a dragon who wanted to be a man.
My name is Eleanor Thornhail, and I’m a worldhopper—long story—and I’d gotten myself stranded on a strange world of magic and dragons.
One dragon in particular was my ticket out. I’d found him hiding among the humans, working as a librarian for the Infinite Library.
Whenever a scientist—a certain kind of scientist— “misplaces” something important, I get a call. This time it came to my DC studio apartment at midnight. Instantly awake, I sat up and reached for a light switch. “Give me the details.”
“Yaeger, it’s Mitchell. I need you to find two adult woolly mammoths, hopefully alive.
“Is this gonna hurt?” A wet bead crept down my neck. I wiped it off. Smeared it across my T-shirt.
“No more than a broken heart.” Magnus gave a boisterous laugh.
I forced a smile. Scary-lookin’ dude. He could do more than hurt me.
The bald behemoth winked, then sat next to me,
Inspector Gustav Ackerson removed his bowler hat and knelt next to the corpse. A boy of fourteen years stared at the nickelodeon’s plaster ceiling with glazed eyes. According to the night guardsman, the poor lad had snuck into the theater after hours and had been discovered lying on the floor next to a mutoscope.
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The harsh lights in the interrogation room stung my eyes as Detective Ironflutter smacked her police-issued wand against her palm and fluttered her wings to loom over me. “C’mon, Ivory. Just tell us where the fairy godmother’s wand is.”
I leaned back but forced my eyes to meet hers.
Detective Bixby kneels next to the broken glass. He lifts a tear-shaped shard in his callused fingers. Is it the shape of a tear or half of a broken heart? Either way, it reminds him of the woman he loves. The woman he lost… or, more accurately, never had. With a mournful sigh
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