Delilah held her palm to Henry’s face; he stared at her with deep, unending devotion, holding her close. Every single one of them had played a role in getting us here—from the day I’d met Henry until now.
Fingers curled against my own. Sloane’s. Her beautiful face was a shimmering mix of peaceful and ecstatic—her smile was sensational, body vibrating with happiness. I dipped my mouth to hers and kissed her. My mind spun, erupted with brightness. I pulled back but kept our lips close.
“Nice work back there,” I said.
“Thanks for trusting me,” she replied. “We did it, together. And while you were on vacation at that.”
My mouth curved into a smile. “I wouldn’t have had it any other way, believe me.” I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Maybe this chaos between us isn’t reckless at all. Because if it’s not coincidence, I’m fairly certain we could call this fate.”
The look that came over her face stopped my heart with its all-encompassing hope, trust—and a deeper emotion I wasn’t sure was possible so soon.
Love.
I was pretty damn sure Sloane Argento was staring at me with love. Codex had a world of work still ahead of us and a long list of questions. Capturing these five people tonight didn’t mean everything was automatically closed up and tied off. I sure as hell didn’t know what would happen next between Sloane and me when we returned home to our respective cities, hours apart. But when she kissed me breathless, all of the unanswered questions vanished.
A familiar bellow roared through the busy scene. Instead of its usual cheer, this time the voice was filled with despair.
“Humphrey,” Sloane gasped, stepping back. We turned toward the source of the pain. There was giant Humphrey, in his Sherlock Holmes best, standing at the edge of the crowd with his equally distraught husband.
“Bernie?” he asked, arms outstretched toward his best friend in handcuffs. The police officers placed him in the back of the car. Bernard didn’t acknowledge him once. Startled, Humphrey turned, spotted us.
“Devon? Daniel? Wait… is that Henry?” Humphrey’s hands flew to his head. “What in the bloody hell is going on?”
Resolute, Sloane stepped forward and touched his arm with a look of pure compassion. “Come sit with me for a second, Humphrey. I need to tell you a story.”
47
Sloane
While the Codex team slipped into the pub for a celebratory bottle of champagne, Humphrey, Reggie, and I sat on the sidewalk directly outside. We could see them in there, framed by the window, laughing together as they celebrated their hard-fought victory.
Next to me, Humphrey was in total shock. Reggie less so. I got the impression he’d always suspected Bernard was off. But this wild tale of book theft and manipulation still surprised the quiet academic.
It had taken an hour, but I’d finally finished the long tale of Bernard Allerton—and who we all were. Per the usual, Humphrey had reacted with dramatic gasps and outbursts at every secret and true identity revealed. Now he sat morosely next to me, Reggie’s arm around his shoulders. This sad mountain of a man was even harder for me to accept than his surprise and outrage. I’d never wanted to actually hug a stranger before. Now that’s all I wanted.
“Sixty years of lies,” he said, accent thicker the sadder he became. “You were right, Reggie. You noticed it. Did everyone? Was I a joke?”
I shook my head fiercely, thought about Henry and his bright light of sincerity. Humphrey was the exact same—with an uncomplicated zest for life that was easily mocked and manipulated by con artists like Bernard. What Bernard had said back there about this man—he’s a golden retriever—betrayed Bernard’s total lack of empathy or understanding of being a human. Humphrey Hatcher was the most alive person I’d ever met.
“You were never a joke,” I said fiercely. “Bernard chose you to manipulate because you are so good. Caring and sincere, would do anything for the people in your life. That makes you the kind of person this world should be filled with. That makes you the kind of person people want to keep in their lives.”
I stopped, a rush of emotion pricking my eyes, even though the last time I’d cried in front of another person was Debra. But this, all of this, was now over—and would I ever see Humphrey and Reggie again?
“Why on earth would a person do such a thing?” he said.
I exhaled, toeing the sidewalk with the tip of my shoe. “Some people view others as tools, chess pieces to move around, walking wallets to steal.” I touched his arm. “Some people view others as the friends and family we need in this world to keep going. View those relationships like a garden to be tended. Treasured and cared for. You’re that kind of people.”
“I am an unstoppable force of valiant passion,” Humphrey said—this time with a small smile. I laughed, relieved.
“You are,” I said, patting his arm again. “You truly are, Humphrey.”
He nodded inside, at the pub. “That’s your family.”
“Them?” I asked, turning to watch the five detectives, glowing in the cozy light. Abe must have felt me staring because he turned. Gave me a smile that curled my toes and set my pulse racing.
“Yes, them,” he said. “You, your Mr. Royal, these detectives. They are quite clearly yours.”
“Mine,” I repeated, rolling the word around on my tongue. Recognizing it for the truth that it was. “I don’t have a biological family.”
“You don’t need one,” he said, waving a hand through the air. “Friends are better.”
“Trust me,” Reggie said. “Once Humphrey meets you, you’re instant family.”
I gave them a long look, feeling shy. “If you both,” I said, voice nervous. “If… if you both wanted to come visit me, back in America, I’d like that.”
“A visit to see the enchantress across the pond?” Humphrey exclaimed. “Why, we’d board the next flight! Isn’t that right, Reg?”
“That is right,” Reggie said kindly.
I breathed out again, happy to see a bit of Humphrey’s lightness return. It was going to be a long journey for Humphrey to accept the real role Bernard Allerton played in his life and the significant loss of a friendship he’d held dear for six decades. It wouldn’t come easy.
Maybe the tiniest amount of good could come out of this. Shifting the scales of justice, making the world better—bit by bit, person by person.
Abe, Delilah and Henry, Freya and Sam. Humphrey and Reggie. Over one week’s time, the circle of people I could trust had expanded to include all of these names.
“You two would make a fine pair of uncles,” I said, nudging his arm. Humphrey guffawed, clapping his hands in the air. He was going to be okay in the end. I could tell.
“And Reggie and I have often longed for a niece,” he exclaimed. Reggie nodded, laughed.
I smiled, chin in my hands, feeling less and less like the daughter of two con artists and more and more like the woman with a future she’d never seen coming.
“Now go get in there and be with your family,” Humphrey said. “Reggie and I will need to make some arrangements for the Society, start to unravel this shit mess Bernard and Eudora have landed us in.”