Epilogue

Whatcom County deputies recovered Walter De Kamp’s famous missing sculpture Untitled Five, from property owned by the Whatcom County Church of Christ on East Pole Road just before midnight on Halloween. When questioned, organizers of the church’s Hell House event claimed to have no knowledge of how the sculpture came to be in their possession, though an anonymous witness claims to have seen it being unloaded from the back of a black pickup truck decorated with extensive flame decals.

“It could’ve been brought there by the Devil himself for all I know,” stated the witness. “It seems like his kind of mischief.”

No charges have been laid.

Peter stopped typing, marveling at how nearly accurate that witness had been. On November fourth, four months to the day after Untitled Five had been removed, it was cemented back onto its pedestal in the university’s sculpture garden. Both Nick and Peter were in attendance, as were Stephano and Dr. Gerholt, both of whom seemed nervous and unusually quiet.

Though he wanted nothing more than to expose them for their crimes, the fact was he had no proof. The only witness who could place the statue at Gerholt’s house had fled the state with his enlightened goat.

The one bright spot in service of justice was that police, following information provided by a not so anonymous tipster, arrested Rory on charges of animal cruelty.

Stephano’s escape from the long arm of the law didn’t seem to bother Nick. He phoned Bradley and left a message on his voice mail informing him that the insurance claim was no longer being filed so he should probably stop shopping for that new Miata. Bradley responded, through his lawyer, that Nick would still be seeing him in court.

Altogether Peter found the whole thing frustrating but respected Nick’s wishes to keep the entire story under wraps. Because who would have believed it anyway? No one.

As though sensing Peter’s vexation through some sixth sense—most likely the expression on his face—Nick sidled up behind him and laid his hands on Peter’s shoulders. The mere touch and gentle pressure caused his muscles to relax.

Nick said, “My cousin wants to know what we’re doing for Christmas this year.”

“Not snow camping,” Peter pronounced. “I’m over snow. Plus there’s no way to pack Gigi. I don’t want her to be alone for the holidays.”

“Christmas doesn’t mean anything to cats.” Nick started to massage his shoulders gently.

Peter stretched into his touch. “Sure it does. It’s the magical day when the living room is littered with empty boxes to jump into and wadded up balls of paper to destroy. We can’t take away her first Christmas.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Nick kept moving his fingers. Slowly he bent to kiss the top of Peter’s head. “I guess the three of us are a family now.”

Peter smirked, mainly to hide the sappy tenderness stabbing through his heart. “Yeah, we sure are.”