Abbie Mills was having ice cream. It was quite a lovely feeling, standing in her small kitchen in bare feet, eating frozen chocolate right out of the carton. No ex-boyfriends watching her every move, no estranged sister, no domestic calls or drunk and disorderlies.
No gangly half-dead English guy hanging over her shoulder...
Nope, tonight was just Abbie, ice cream and some slow jazz. Abbie swayed in time with the music, closing her eyes as she savored the first icy taste of chocolate against her tongue.
The phone rang.
Later, Abbie swore she could quite literally hear evil calling her name with each blaring ring of the phone. With the very first ring, Lieutenant Abigail Mills knew her night of peace and indulgence was shattered. She reached for the phone. Such a small thing to cause such chaos. She could cheerfully strangle Alexander Graham Bell. If he weren't already dead, that is.
"Mills," she barked into the phone. Let it be a murder, she prayed, an unattended death, a robbery. Anything, anyone except...
"Leftenant," said a posh British voice. "I'm afraid I require your assistance."
Abbie closed her eyes and prayed for patience. Was one night off from babysitting the man too much to ask? She sighed. "What is it, Crane?"
"This infernal device Miss Jenny purchased me has unfortunately..."
"Wait," Abbie interrupted. "What infernal device?"
"She claims it is used to, er, clean teeth. Using an electric, spinning contraption."
"She bought you an electric toothbrush?" Abbie demanded. Good God, the man could barely work the bathroom faucets and Jenny had bought him an electric toothbrush?! Screw the Horseman, her sister and Crane were going to be the death of her. "Okay, you're brushing your teeth. What's the problem?"
"The problem, Leftenant, is that this devilish device has, most unfortunately, become..." His voice tailed off.
"Has become...?" Abbie prompted.
Ichabod cleared his throat. "Entangled in my beard."