Epilogue

"Aviation buffs the world over are clamoring to get to the National Air and Space Museum in Washington to examine what may be one of the most important finds of the aviation age. The museum has acquired the headgear if the infamous Red Baron from an anonymous Los Angeles donor. The Smithsonian believes this prized artifact was unearthed in a Los Angeles cemetery. Reports of that cemetery being Valhalla are unconfirmed. As are reports of a link between the discovery and the five missing people last seen at Valhalla. Police still have no leads in that case. This is Beth Turner for Buzz Wire."

Mick turned off his computer following Beth's report. Beth had called earlier to let him know that she had gotten clearance to air her story and to remind him that she'd be over after work. With that in mind, he headed for the shower to get cleaned up before she arrived. He finished showering, dried off, and got dressed in jeans and his favorite gray sweater. Mick headed back downstairs just in time for Beth's knock. Mick opened the door and stood aside for her to enter the apartment. As she passed him, Beth leaned up and kissed him hello.

"I see the Smithsonian got our package. An anonymous donor?" he asked playfully.

"What was I supposed to say 'vampire rewrites history of the Great War'?" Beth countered

"Who needs fiction when the truth is so much more interesting?"

"That's what I keep trying to tell you." Beth rolled her eyes. "The Smithsonian sent me a package today." She settled down on the couch; Mick took his now-customary place at her side.

"A package? What kind of package?"

"Apparently, the headgear wasn't the only thing in that box." Beth handed him a yellowed envelope. There was no address or any other type of demarcation. Curious, Mick slid his finger underneath the seal, which gave easily. An old photo fell out into his lap. He picked it up carefully. The picture showed Andrew and his buddies in what could only be a Parisian pub. But there was a large person sized hole between Andrew and Moretti. Ernst, Mick thought. This must be the poker game. As a vampire, Ernst didn't appear in the pre-digital photograph. This must be how Dad knew Ernst was a vampire. Mick could picture his father buried under a pile of books, looking for some reason that his friend wasn't in the picture.

"Mick," Beth said quietly.

He looked at her. She handed him another photo; it had fallen on the floor. This one made him gasp. It was his wedding photo, one he had never seen. It was disconcerting because Mick was the only one in the picture. His arms were wrapped around an invisible person. On the back of the photo, Maddie had written Mick and Coraline, May 25, 1952. They knew. His parents had known all along what Coraline had done to him. That knowledge felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. The guilt he'd always carried about them was gone.

Beth leaned in to examine the photograph. "Does this mean what I think it means?"

"Yeah."

"That's good, right? I mean, at least they didn't think you just dropped off the face of the planet. Or that you hated them."

"I never hated them."

Beth laid her hand on Mick's knee. "I know. Look, let's get rid of these." She reached for the pictures in Mick's right hand.

"Wait. I want to keep this one." Beth looked down; Mick's fingers were curled tightly around the poker photo.

"Why?"

"Because I don't have any photos of my dad." He paused. "And because I want to remember this case," he said with a knowing look.

Beth understood. It was because this case was the first step of their journey together. She could appreciate that. Beth walked over to the kitchen and got Mick's lighter out of the drawer. She took the wedding photo and set it on fire. Mick found her eyes from across the room.

"We can replace that one, you know," Mick said as he moved towards his desk.

"How?" Beth asked. Why, she thought.

"With this." Mick pulled his digital camera out of his desk. Then Beth understood. Mick wanted a picture of them together. As they huddled together on the couch waiting for the shutter to snap, they were both thinking the same thing. This one will last.

FINIS