Page 5

CHAPTER 5

Costa found that it was impossible to have a conversation with a crying, flailing baby in the middle of it. Diana impatiently reclaimed the baby and started trying to soothe her with inexpert jiggling. Costa made a couple of attempts to politely offer corrections, which got him glared at. He decided to take advantage of the opportunity to go upstairs, get properly dressed, and call Auntie Lo and let her know that he wasn’t going to be able to make it tonight.

He got Auntie Brill instead— oh good, the nice one —and unchivalrously threw the entire blame on Diana.

“Sorry, Auntie B. Di’s working tonight, and I promised to keep her company.”

“Oh, you dear ,” his aunt said. In the background there was clattering, shouting, and a babble of voices that gave him an odd blend of homesickness and relief to be missing the circus. “What a sweet boy you are. —No, not with those, that’s the nut-free batch! Isn’t she a helicopter pilot?” she went on without missing a beat, while someone complained in the background. “How are you going to help with?—”

“She’s on call for search and rescue,” Costa said swiftly. “So it’s just going to be hanging around drinking bad coffee and seeing if she gets called out, but I didn’t want to let her do it alone.”

“It sounds like things are finally working out for you two,” his aunt said hopefully. The entire family seemed to be convinced that his relationship with Diana was on the rocks—accurately enough, to be fair—but could be repaired with time and family meddling. “Well, you just have a grand evening, and we’ll make sure to put aside some nibbles for you.”

The nibbles would probably feed him for a week.

“Give my regards to Uncle Roddy,” Costa said with a rush of sudden guilt. “Tell him I’m sorry I can’t make it.”

“Jay-Jay will be sad he can’t see you. He’s training his new pony, and he can’t wait to show you the new tricks they’ve learned.”

Costa closed his eyes briefly at his nephew’s name. “I’m sad I can’t see him, too. Please tell Jay and Jenny that I’ll—I’ll try to get out to the ranch this weekend, at least for the afternoon, but I don’t know what work’s going to be like, so I can’t promise anything.”

“We’d love to see you, dear.” His aunt’s voice was gentle, even though she had to raise it above the commotion in the background. “Honey, I said not there ! —Do bring Diana too if you can, love.”

“I will.”

He hung up, cutting off the babble of loved voices into sharp silence. Downstairs, he could hear an occasional soft giggle or coo, so it seemed like Di had gotten the baby calmed down again. Costa took a deep breath, grabbed a previously worn shirt off the back of a chair, and went downstairs as he shrugged into it.

Diana was walking around the living room with the baby cradled in her arms, her head bent low over the small bundle, speaking in a soft voice.

The lamplight cast her in soft shadows, and her face, bent over the baby, was gentle in a way that he had almost never seen it.

The picture she made was so gorgeous, so domestic, that for a shocked instant it took his breath away. He stopped with one hand on the buttons of his shirt. Then she looked up and saw him, and the softness faded into her more usual expression of slightly sardonic curiosity.

“What were you doing up there?” Diana asked.

“Calling the family and letting them know we can’t make it.”

Diana shook her head. “You shouldn’t have to cancel on my account. We could—uh—we could take the baby with us, maybe? We just have to make sure she doesn’t shift?—”

“No,” Costa said, as horror sank through him like a knife through soft cheese. “No, no, no. There is no universe in which the two of us going to see my family with a baby would end in anything other than endless requests for baby pictures and a wedding date. We would never know peace again. Do not do this to me, Di, I beg of you.”

Both corners of Diana’s mouth curled up into a smile she was evidently struggling and failing to suppress. “Okay, no baby.”

“You were telling me what she turns into when she decided to throw a fit.” Costa went into the kitchen. “Actually, since we’re not going anywhere, how about I open this wine and also pull out this fruit plate.”

“Quinn, I was in the field for six hours today, and I’ve been taking care of a screaming potato ever since. I do not want a fruit plate. I want something massive, greasy, and full of protein.” She sighed wistfully. “An enormous platter of your aunt Maura’s enchiladas would go down really nice right about now.”

“They’re an hour’s drive away, but tell you what, I can Doordash something if you will just, for the love of God, tell me what that child turns into.”

“Oh,” Diana said. “Sorry, I didn’t realize I hadn’t. Uh, she turns into a winged antelope.”

There was a brief pause, punctuated by some small cooing noises from the baby in Diana’s arms. Then Costa said, “A what?”

“A baby antelope, with wings. She’s very cute. But you can see why I brought her here.”

“Are you sure ?—”

“Cesar Quinn Costa, are you about to ask me whether I’m deluded or simply lying?” Diana asked, her eyes flashing dangerously.

“No, not at all, I’m just saying, there could have been a tree branch behind her, or?—”

“It was not a tree branch , for the love of?—”

The baby began to fuss louder.

“—socks and little monkeys,” Diana said, modulating her voice to a baby-soothing rise and fall. She continued in that tone even as she went on speaking to Costa. “This kid has wings. I didn’t just see them, I touched them and felt the draft when she flapped them at me. I don’t have any idea what she is, or why she was next to a crashed plane in the middle of nowhere, but I didn’t want to risk having her vanish into a lab or worse, if the wrong person saw her, and that’s even aside from the risks of a shifter going to a normal hospital. You get me?”

“I get you,” Costa said, similarly quiet and calm. He put a hand over the baby’s head, uncomfortably aware of how her small, fuzzy scalp nearly vanished under his large palm and his sun-tanned fingers with their light dusting of reddish hair. “We’re going to want our agents to take a look at the crash site, and we’ll need to share info with the other agencies already working there.”

Diana let out a sigh, and her body relaxed a little, making Costa realize how tense she had been. Her eyelids half closed for an instant. “I knew you’d be the right person to bring this to.”

* * *

Half an hour later, they were settled down on the couch with the baby between them and a pizza on the coffee table. (Costa had drawn the line at ordering enchiladas; he knew it would be a pale shadow of the far better Tex-Mex spread he was missing at the family ranch.)

Costa had texted Mavis Begay, head of the Arizona SCB’s medical and science department, to come by his place this evening when she had a chance. Then Diana filled him in with a much more detailed and less chaotic description of her day. When she wasn’t panicking, as it was now clear to him that she had been earlier, she was a thoughtful and careful witness, even providing photos of the crash site on her cell phone.

“What agency is investigating the crash?” Costa asked. He had opened the bottle of wine after all and poured them both glasses.

“National Transportation Safety Board and the local authorities.”

“What about any items from the site—evidence, that kind of thing? Where’s that go?”

Diana shook her head. “The NTSB will be looking into the cause of the crash, so they’ll have the flight recorder and any other evidence they retrieved from the airplane’s body or engine. But there are also, obviously, concerns that it might have been used for drugs or other smuggling, so the sheriff’s department will be working with the DEA and ... oh, I don’t even know who else. These kinds of situations are a jurisdictional mess.”

“Then I’ll add to the mess and get the SCB involved tomorrow,” Costa said cheerily. In a perverse way, he enjoyed wrangling with other law enforcement departments. It was like a martial artist having a throwdown with a good strong rival of an equal fighting class. He’d take it in a hot minute over having to talk to drunk college students or the bureaucrats who controlled the bureau’s funding.

“Do you think I did the wrong thing?” Diana asked anxiously. “Taking the baby, I mean.”

The reminder that Diana had in fact committed a serious crime washed over him. It was followed an instant later by a mental reminder that running a secret federal bureau that dealt with crimes which were often unprosecutable meant a lot of coverup. The fact that Diana had chosen to run her own freelance coverup didn’t make it morally wrong. If one of his agents had done the same thing, he would have yelled himself blue in the face and then backed them up.

“I agree with you that it’s better to keep her out of the official reports for now.” Without meaning to, Costa ran a hand lightly over her sleeping head, once more feeling the soft brush of her peach fuzz on his palm, and noticed Diana following his hand with her eyes; he had to wrench himself back to business. “One thing I definitely want to do tomorrow is contact our Seattle bureau. A couple of years ago, they had a case involving shifters being experimented on in labs. This might be another branch of the same operation, or someone connected to it. Actually, maybe I’ll send an email tonight.”

He was tapping out a brief note to Pam Stiers, the Seattle bureau chief, when there was a sharp knock at the door. Diana got up and, after some murmured conversation, came back with Mavis Begay. She was a small, brisk Navajo woman from a family of pronghorn antelope and deer shifters. Although she had been at the SCB since before Costa’s time, there was only a faint streaking of gray in her black bun.

“I was afraid of this,” Mavis said tartly. “You do a couple of house calls, and everyone expects it. Where’s the little one? Oh .” She picked up the baby with great care, producing a sleepy stirring of the small, plump limbs. “Hello, darling. Oh, she’s lovely.”

If there was one thing Costa had not expected, it was his no-nonsense department head turning into a mushy sap over a baby. But that continued to be the situation as Mavis gave the baby a thorough examination on a folded blanket spread on the kitchen island, cooing baby talk in between asking Costa and Diana a series of cogent, sharp-tongued questions.

“Ohhhh, who’s a perfect bababa, youuuu, right here? —and what was the elapsed time between the disappearance of the plane and the time you found her on the hillside?”

“I’d say about five or six hours,” Diana said. Her usual rock-solid confidence wobbling, she looked like she had been called into the principal’s office. “She was a little dehydrated when we found her, but not otherwise injured. My partner examined her on the scene and later at home,” she added defensively. “He’s a paramedic.”

“Ooh yes, you’ve got toes ,” Mavis informed the baby, “ten little toesies—Any reports of a missing child in the last few weeks, anything like that?”

“We haven’t had time to look into it,” Costa said. He could hear a note of defensiveness in his own voice, not unlike Diana’s, and reminded himself firmly that he was Mavis’s boss, for cripesakes. “You’re the first person I called. I wanted to get your take on this before I alert the night shift.”

“Caine?” Mavis asked, and Costa nodded. “Could be worse. He’s very discreet. Why don’t you have him come here?”

Costa muttered a curse under his breath. He had temporarily forgotten one of the most useful things about Caine, and he and Mavis were two of the only people who knew it. Reaching for his phone, he tapped in a text. I need to consult on something at my place when you’re free. In person. But don’t come in directly, I’ve got company.

Setting the phone down, he smiled at both of them. “I texted him when I contacted you, Mavis. He ought to be here any minute.”

Diana looked slightly mulish. “You didn’t mention anyone else.”

Costa had been keeping Caine’s secret for years, but still his heart panged a little at lying to her. He wondered if Caine would be willing to let Diana in on it. “Caine’s discreet, like Mavis said.”

“Toesy-woesies! Ten of them! I need a hand,” Mavis said with an abrupt switch back to an adult register. “I need someone to distract her while I do a blood draw.”

Diana ended up with this duty, because Costa went to answer a knock at the door. It was Caine, arriving not two minutes after he’d received the text. He was just slipping his dark sunglasses back over his eyes against the bright lights of Costa’s foyer.

“Phone calls aren’t good enough?” Caine asked.

“No, I need you to see something in person.” Aware of the women in the living room, Costa lowered his voice. “Where’d you come through?”

“Garage across the street. Almost set off their alarm getting out.”

Costa snorted. “Now I’m picturing you blundering around like the Home Alone burglars.”

Caine’s expression didn’t change in the slightest. “Fortunately this particular family didn’t have a psychotic ten-year-old, just a Stairmaster that had clearly seen little use. I would have used a nearer shadow, but your building is unfortunately well lit, unlike most of this city.”

Due to the nearby Kitt Peak observatory, Tucson had strict light pollution regulations compared to most municipalities. Many of the outlying suburbs had no street lights.

“Use my garage next time,” Costa said. “It’s under the condo.”

“It’s full of your car. There’s not much room.”

“I’ll park closer to the side if it helps.”

There was a sudden commotion from the living room, a squawk, and a giggle. Caine looked curiously past Costa’s shoulder. “Who are your guests?”

“Mavis and—Diana.” He sensed Caine’s expression changing fractionally. “Do not say a word.”

“That’s right, I seem to recall mention of a hot date,” Caine remarked, the corner of his mouth twitching as he followed Costa into the living room. “I’m guessing things didn’t go as pla—is that a baby ?”

It wasn’t often that Costa had the pleasure of seeing Caine truly surprised.

“I see your professional skills of observation are unparalleled,” Diana said dryly. She was jiggling the baby against her shoulder; there were little sniffling sounds and a fat pink leg dangling down, which Mavis was just tucking back into the crook of Diana’s arm with the rest of the baby. In her other hand she had a syringe. Diana kissed the baby’s head. “It’s okay, honey, we’re done. The mean lady with the needles has taken all the samples she needs.”

“For now,” Mavis murmured, briskly capping a series of tubes. “Well, I can assure you that whatever else this child has been through, she’s in perfect health. She’s also definitely a shifter.”

“We knew that, though,” Diana said, then glanced at Caine.

“Yes, but did you notice how little you can feel it around her? Does everyone else feel that?”

There were nods all around, including from Caine, except Diana. “I can feel it just fine.”

“You met her first,” Mavis said. “She might have latched on to you. Parents can feel it most strongly in their own children.”

Diana looked thoroughly discomfited.

“But it’s pretty common with little kids for it to be wildly variable,” Costa said quickly. “It was all over the place with my younger—with my cousins until their shifting settled.” He noticed Diana give him a swift look, but then, she was aware of everything he was talking around.

“You said she’s definitely a shifter,” Caine said, observing Mavis with unnerving steadiness through his dark glasses. The smoked lenses made it hard to tell, but Costa thought he wasn’t blinking. “Are you talking about something other than the usual feeling?”

“Mostly just her reflexes,” Mavis said. She paused for a quick brush of her fingers across the cheek of the baby, who had stopped sniffling against Diana’s shoulder and was now observing the adults with wide eyes, framed with tear-matted lashes. “Are we friends again, beebee? I thought so. You are a very calm one. She’s not unused to being stuck with things,” she told the adults matter-of-factly. “What I meant was that she’s responsive to stimuli in the same way as a shifter. There are differences between us and humans, you know.”

“She—” Diana began, then stopped, looking at Caine.

“Okay, I want us on the same page about this,” Costa said, hands spread. “Azarias, you’re here because I’ve got a job for you tonight. For now, it’s going to stay off the books. I want open sharing of information between the four of us, but I want it to stay out of the reports and strictly need to know for now—okay?”

After there were nods all around, he and Diana began another abbreviated summary of the sequence of events that had ended with Diana showing up at Costa’s place holding an arguably kidnapped baby. At least by now they were getting the retelling down to a science, including why they wanted the baby to stay off-book.

“Winged antelope?” Caine repeated.

“I’d get her to do it for all of you, but she hasn’t shifted since I brought her here.” Diana adjusted the baby. She had moved to the couch, holding the little girl in her lap. “Oh, she’s asleep again. Poor little tyke.”

“Let me take her,” Costa offered. Diana’s arms must be tired. The sleeping baby twitched a little as she was transferred to his grasp, and then settled back to sleep, warm and heavy. Once again he was caught off guard with a gentler version of the way he felt when he looked at Diana with the baby, a soft flood of emotions sweeping through his inner landscape, changing it in some way he wasn’t sure how to deal with.

He became aware that the conversation had stopped and everyone was looking at him. Both women looked uncharacteristically soft. Caine was, as usual, inscrutable.

“ What ?” Costa said flatly.

“I don’t know how to tell you this, Quinn, but if you carry that baby around at work, you’re going to be breaking hearts and exploding ovaries all over the building,” Mavis said.

“Can we—” Costa began in his usual “back to business, people!” attention-getting meeting voice. Everyone wildly hushed him. “—stay on topic,” he finished hastily in a much lower register. “Azarias, I’ve got a to-do list for you that ought to keep you busy on tonight’s shift. You can outsource some of the less sensitive aspects to the interns, but use your discretion about what might be too revealing.”

Caine gave a simple nod.

“Okay. First of all, contact the Seattle bureau and get them to send down their files on the case last year, or maybe it was the year before, involving human experiments on shifters. I want everything they’ve got, and I especially want to know where the principle culprits got off to.”

“Missing kids,” Diana murmured.

“I’m getting to that. I want unresolved missing kid reports pulled up for—how old would you say she is, Mavis?”

“About seven or eight months, give or take a little. Although shifter children are often precocious, which might cause human agencies misinterpret her age. If she was a foster child in a human household, they could take her for a bit older.”

“Okay. Let’s say a year, just in case someone fudged the birth date. Missing child reports for the last year, for any child that could conceivably be her—white or Hispanic, female, born somewhere between six months to a year ago. That’d be a good job to hand off to the interns.

“Third. Find out which agency is working lead on this morning’s plane crash in the Chiricahuas, shouldn’t be hard to find the details, news is probably all over it. Actually, I want that too—news reports, names of reporters writing it up. Another intern job. And start the ball rolling on interagency requests for access to anything they’ve brought in for evidence?—”

He went on with everything else he could think of. Getting access to the evidence and the site. Flight records. When he wound down, he said, “Anyone else got anything to add?”

“You’re going to need to do something with that baby,” Mavis said promptly.

“Oh,” Costa said, his mind going temporarily blank. Right. You couldn’t just park a baby in the garage and feed it twice a day. Babies needed supplies, special food, and high-maintenance, time-consuming care. It was simultaneously not rocket science, something even the least educated person in the world had been able to do since the dawn of time—and totally incompatible with a bachelor’s house and a career that kept him away from it all day. He didn’t even have a dog.

Mavis looked back and forth between Costa and Diana, and then at Caine, who looked equally blank.

“I meant a foster placement,” she said impatiently, and all three of them relaxed, Diana with a little huff of breath—although, just for a minute, Costa thought he caught the briefest flicker of regret on her face. “Oh, come on, you’re all intelligent people, did you not realize there’s an entire infrastructure to deal with this sort of situation?”

“Of course we did,” Diana said, almost huffily. “But this is unusual. We can’t just put her in normal foster care when she might shift at any moment.”

“I know. We don’t have a dedicated shifter social worker here at the Southwest bureau, but the Seattle one does: Nicole Yates. Or I guess it’s Yates-Hollen now. Before I go to bed, I’ll drop her a line. It’s an hour earlier for them right now, so she ought to still be up. Conveniently for you, Quinn, she was also a key participant in the other case you mentioned, the one with shifter experiments. We can see if they’re able to loan her out for a few days, and if not, she can still help us get a local placement for the baby.”

“I remember now,” Costa said, a little impatient with himself, as the details of that case dropped back into his mind. It had been relevant to the other departments as one of the bigger things the Seattle bureau had worked on in recent years. “Thank you. How about for tonight—do you have?—?”

He hadn’t realized he’d made a slight move to hand the baby over to Mavis until she took a quick step back. “Good God, no. My house is the exact opposite of baby proof. I’m definitely not set up to take on tiny houseguests.”

“Well, neither am I. Caine—” Costa began.

“No!” Caine said, so sharply that his low, raspy voice rose to a pitch Costa wasn’t sure if he had ever heard from him before.

“You’re all a great bunch of team players, aren’t you?” Costa said. It was with both reluctance and a kind of strange, gut-deep relief that he resettled the baby against his chest, where she nestled down as if she felt she belonged there. “I’ll keep her here overnight, on the condition that I am tasking both of you weasels with finding a placement for her tomorrow night. If nothing else, we can put her with one of our agents who has kids. We can give someone a couple of days off if we have to.”

“I’ll get on that,” Mavis said, collecting her medical items back into her kit. But then she turned to look at the baby for a long moment. “And maybe soon we’ll have some answers to what she was doing on that plane, and how she got out there.”