Holy cow. Missed the boat on that one. “Oh, those memos. I totally knew that.”

“You’re not even reading them, are you?”

“I thought they were optional.” Note to self: Stop making paper airplanes out of Cookie’s memos.

“You’re using them as paper airplanes, aren’t you?”

“What? No way, José. But I kind of just skimmed the last one.” Skimmed the top of my ceiling fan. Stealth fighter: best design yet. I was hoping to master the F-14, but… “What did it say about Marika?”

While Cookie told me what she’d found out, I grew more and more in awe. “And, Garrett? For real?”

“For real. There are parts of the world where he’d be considered royalty. And now this? If this baby is who I think it is, we could write a book.”

“Dude, this is the coolest thing ever,” I said, pulling up to Garrett’s.

“Tell me about it. No, really, take notes or something. I want to know everything.”

“You got it.” I hung up and pasted on a smile. “Sometimes the world is a really cool place.”

“It’s even cooler without hellhounds,” said Reyes.

“True. Killjoy.”

He grinned. “I call ’em like I see ’em. This is his house?”

“This is it.”

He raised his brows either in approval or distaste. His brows were mumbling. The message wasn’t quite clear. Garrett’s house wasn’t anything to write home about, but it was cozy and comfortable, with lots of plants and greenery outside and beer on the inside.

“Rife,” I said as we walked up to the door.

“Rife?”

“I need to use more complex words. Beep will be able to hear soon. No time like the present to incorporate a more colorful vocabulary. And I definitely need to use the word rife more.”

He laughed softly as Garrett opened the door.

“Is she still there?” he asked, craning his neck.

Since his shirt was unbuttoned, I first took in the lovely sight of his manly chest and abs. He must unbutton his shirt the moment he comes home every day. Every single time I’d come over, it hung open, exposing his six-pack. Not that I was complaining.

I finally turned to see where he was looking. A maroon sedan sat down the street about half a block away. “Are you sure that’s her?”

“I’m sure. She hasn’t been back in months. Why now?”

“Maybe she wants to introduce you to your son?”

He ushered us in and went for a beer, grabbing one for Reyes, too. They had become quite chummy over the past few weeks. I loved it. Of course, it could be Osh’s influence and Swopes was the lesser of two evils. Whatever worked.

“So, what are you going to do?” I asked as he handed me a diet orange soda, a drink he stocked just for me.

“I’m not going to do anything. You’re going to go talk to her.”

“Why me? She doesn’t even know me, Swopes. And did you ever figure out if she’s actually married to that guy I saw her with before?”

“No. I thought they were, but they aren’t.”

“He looked a lot like you,” I said. “I’m telling you, it’s weird.” I used to think that had everything to do with her getting pregtastic until Cookie’s report, but I wasn’t going to tell Garrett that. Marika needed to spill the beans on that one herself.

I sat on his sofa. Just like the last time I’d visited, he had old books and documents scattered about the place. “Are you still trying to figure out that prophecy?”

“Sure am. That’s why Dr. von Holstein is coming in. He was supposed to be here already.” He checked his watch. “He’s going to text me when his plane lands so I can pick him up.”

“Cool. It’s all very rife with mystery.”

Reyes grinned as he sat down and started picking through the stacks of papers.

“Okay,” I said, “what are we doing again?”

Garrett took a swig and went to look out his window. “Just go talk to her.”

“You do realize how odd it’s going to be when I just walk over there and knock on her car window.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want her boyfriend seeing us talk, just in case.”

“Fine. I’ll be back.” I swung my legs to give me enough momentum to get out of the chair. It was a really comfortable chair.

After achieving enough escape velocity for success, I walked out and marched directly up to Marika’s car. Reyes followed me to Garrett’s front door, but let me go to her vehicle alone. It took a while. She was half a block away. The walk was awkward, especially after she spotted me. Should I make it clear that I was walking right up to her or pretend I was just out for a stroll instead and surprise-attack her at the last minute? So many decisions. I was just beginning to feel the pressure when her gaze locked onto mine like a laser-guided missile. Marika had dark blond hair and beautiful hazel eyes that rounded the closer I got.

I waved and knocked on her window. When she rolled it down warily, I said, “Come inside. We need to talk.”

“I can’t,” she said. “I have the baby.” She had a soft French accent that seemed very appropriate, given her background.

Her son was asleep in the backseat, and Betty White leapt in her chest cavity. “He’s so adorable. Just pull up to the house and bring him in. It’ll be fine.”