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On television, Mr. Tangaroa and Judy’s voices sounded almost artificial, dream-like. A far cry from the hoarseness that had overtaken them during their separation. Ordinarily, Gregory found the television at his office distracting, but this particular program never failed to galvanize him. A man who only desired to bring joy was trapped in detention, and he would suffer a worse fate if Gregory stopped fighting.
Which made him all the antsier to be at a standstill. The prosecution was dragging its feet, and until the trial resumed, there wasn’t much Gregory could do for Tangaroa except check on the preparations for their ace.
Today, however, he wouldn’t be meeting with Detective Badd about evidence, but accompanying Tyrell to a ball game. Gregory couldn’t help a rare smile as he glanced at the clock.
“Dad, look. They’re using blueberries.”
It wouldn’t be long until Tyrell arrived, anyway. Giving up on his paperwork, Gregory walked over to the couch where Miles and Eddie were watching Tangaroa pour a batter into muffin tins.
“That does look delicious,” Gregory said.
“After you save him, you should tell him you want those.”
Gregory withheld a sigh. At least Miles was showing some interest in the show itself. The first time they watched it, he only asked questions about the case.
“I bet Judy has the recipe,” Eddie said, his eyes glued to the corner of the screen where she was narrating Tangaroa’s actions with a song. So even he wasn’t purely interested in the show’s content.
“Perhaps you can make a visit and ask?” Gregory said.
Eddie blushed. “I—I couldn’t bother her with something like that! Not without good news about the case, at least.”
“Why not? She could use some company in the meantime, couldn’t she?” He was only partly teasing; for someone so reliant on her father to be isolated, living at a crime scene of all places…
“Well, yeah, but—”
Gregory’s phone rang, saving Eddie from replying. Tyrell’s quiet baritone barely came through over the call.
“I’m outside.”
“Ah, Tyrell. You’re early.”
The phone picked up the sound of him sucking his lollipop better than his voice. “Hate wasting time…you know that.”
For a man who could spend all night on a stakeout, Tyrell certainly did complain about lines; perhaps it was worth leaving early, but…
Gregory glanced at Miles. Though he remained facing the television, his furtive looks made his eavesdropping obvious. Considering Gregory had never shown an interest in baseball, it must have confused Miles when he announced his plans—without calling it a date. Even Eddie was a recent addition to their little family. For as long as Miles could remember, Gregory had been dedicated only to him and the law, and he was hoping to gradually introduce his son to the idea of him having a personal life.
Which meant a more literal introduction was in order.
“The door’s unlocked. You’re welcome to come up. Miles and Eddie are here,” he said.
There was a long pause, even for Tyrell. “Just come down.”
Tyrell hung up. For all that he had a stalwart heart, Gregory knew better than to expect the manner of a gentleman, but that had never prevented him from maintaining one himself.
“Edward, please prepare a fresh pot of tea. The good detective will be joining us.”
Just in case Tyrell won out, Gregory kissed the top of Miles’ head and grabbed his hat before heading downstairs.
Though the weather was perfect for baseball, Tyrell was still wearing his detective coat. A baseball cap contrasted with his appearance as much as his lollipop did, but as they greeted each other, Gregory’s attention was immediately drawn to the fresh hole in Tyrell’s coat collar. He pulled back the collar with his thumb for a better look. A bullet hole—with no gunpowder residue, and inches away from the man himself, thank goodness.
“What happened?” Gregory asked.
“Hazard of the job.”
“I’m glad you’re all right.”
Without releasing the collar, he leaned up to kiss Tyrell’s cheek and was rewarded with stubble against his chin. Tyrell scratched his other cheek.
“Didn’t you say your boy was around?”
“He’s upstairs. Isn’t that why you’re hiding out here?”
“I wasn’t hiding. I just figured…we should get going right away…”
Checking his watch confirmed that Gregory hadn’t been that caught up in his paperwork. “I’m afraid I’m not quite ready. Why don’t you come up? I brought in a raspberry tea—it’s on the sweeter side.”
That predictably got Tyrell’s attention. He pulled out his mirror and angled it back toward his car, parked so close to the nearest curb it was a wonder he hadn’t crashed into it.
“Then I guess I’d better go get her…”
“Her? Who did you—”
Without explaining, Tyrell hurried to open the car dar. His broad back obscured whoever it was he was fetching. When he leaned into the car, Gregory wondered if he’d gotten a dog—it was easy to imagine him playing fetch with a Doberman, and or even a Pomeranian—but when Tyrell turned around, the bundle in his arms was decidedly furless. In fact…
“Detective, is that…your daughter?”
He hadn’t meant to use the title outside work, but it was difficult to reconcile the fact that the man he’d recently started seeing had just shown up with an infant. A newborn, judging by the size of her, with his same dark hair.
“No! She’s…Faraday’s.”
Gregory chided himself for jumping to conclusions. His other case this year had switched prosecutors due to a sudden parental leave—a premature birth, apparently. Tyrell had been rather scarce around that time, but he rarely explained himself, and Gregory was trying to wean himself off of cross-examining people about personal matters.
He peered more closely at her. It was difficult to tell if she was especially tiny, or simply being cradled in massive arms. If there had been complications at birth, she seemed healthy now, with plump cheeks and bright, curious eyes. A little shock of hair stood up from the top of her head, held in place with a key-shaped hairpiece, and she wore a pink onesie patterned with swirls. She burbled as she looked up at Gregory.
“She’s sweet. What’s her name?”
“Sweeter’n a lollipop,” Tyrell said, a rare fondness in his gruff voice. “Name’s Kay. Faraday put me on babysitting duty…at the last minute…he said something came up.”
That was unfortunate timing. Eddie was watching Miles for the afternoon, but springing an infant on him seemed as irresponsible as bringing her with them.
“Is she really old enough to be at a ball game?” Gregory asked.
“Never too young to become a sports fan.”
Though Gregory had tried throwing a ball around with Miles, the boy inherited his lack of athleticism. It was difficult to imagine that meeting Tyrell would change that, but after retrieving a feather-patterned bag of baby supplies from his car, Gregory still ushered him upstairs and into the office. They caught Eddie singing along with Judy while Tangaroa pulled a tray out of the oven. Even Miles was wiggling his feet.
“The cupcakes one, huh?” Tyrell said.
Eddie cut off his singing. “Oh, Mr. Badd! I thought you said you hadn’t watched the show?”
“I’ve got eyes…and those are cupcakes…”
Miles’ attention was glued to Tyrell, his expression extra serious. He’d never been shy, exactly, but he tended to awkwardly observe new people. Gregory tried his best to smile.
“Miles, this is Detective Tyrell Badd.”
Tyrell grunted in greeting. “So you’re the kid.”
“Wait, who’s the baby?” Eddie asked.
“Kay…she’s Prosecutor Faraday’s daughter.”
“Why is a detective here with a prosecutor’s baby?” Miles asked.
With a cough, Gregory adjusted his tie. It had been hard enough deciding how much to explain before Tyrell threw him an admittedly adorable curveball.
“You cross-examining me, kid?” Tyrell asked.
“I’m going to be a lawyer when I grow up. So yeah, I’ll probably cross-examine you.”
“That so? You know…the courtroom isn’t half bad from the witness stand, either…”
Miles’ brow wrinkled. “I’m not going to be a witness.”
As they bantered, Kay sucked on her fingers, her eyes bouncing between them. Perhaps Gregory was projecting due to her father’s profession, but she seemed startlingly perceptive.
“Edward,” Gregory cut in, “why don’t you pour the detective some tea? I’ll take care of Kay.”
Hiking Kay up to prop her little head against his bicep, Tyrell looked at Gregory as warily as he had when they first met, as if Gregory could be trusted with a crime scene but not an infant.
“Miles was a baby at one point, you know,” Gregory said.
“It’s true! I’ve seen the pictures,” Eddie said.
“You didn’t need evidence for that!” Miles said, his cheeks reddening.
Kay let out a chirp of a giggle. She wriggled, reaching an arm out toward the couch where Miles sat. Tyrell sighed.
“Faraday’ll kill me if anything happens to her,” he said as he handed her over. Gregory took her as carefully as a piece of life-saving evidence. Evidence didn’t squirm, however, and it had admittedly been quite a while since he held a baby. While he adjusted her neck against his elbow, she sniffed his arm, perhaps smelling the bitter scent of tea instead of Tyrell’s unique blend of sweet and salty. She began to kick her feet, making fussing sounds.
Though Tyrell tensed, he didn’t reach for her. “You’re the dad…do something before she starts wailing.”
Pointing out the contradictions in his behavior wouldn’t have gotten them anywhere. Gregory repositioned Kay so she could see Tyrell, then started gently bouncing her.
“There, there. You’re all right. See, daddy’s friend is right there. He might seem scary, but he’s very gentle.”
“Goo?” Kay asked.
“Don’t go…giving her funny ideas,” Tyrell said. Gregory’s smile came a little too easily.
“You know how dedicated I am to the truth, Detective.”
Tyrell only grunted. Miles looked between him and Gregory with an odd expression.
Though Kay didn’t start wailing, she still seemed restless. Silly faces and noises were hardly Gregory’s forte; he cast a look toward his apprentice.
“Eddie, why don’t you try singing for her?”
Having paused the television to pour Tyrell’s tea, Eddie glanced at the image of Judy and Tangaroa mid-dance as if it would improve his musical sense.
“Um, sure! Even babies love the Bake’n’Bop theme. Why don’t you bring her over here so she can get cozy?”
As Gregory stepped toward the couch, Kay tried to dive out of his arms. He held her close to his chest, but she kept waving her hands toward Miles, babbling a string of sounds. Looking faintly alarmed, he pressed back against the couch.
Well, now was as good a time as any to acclimate him to younger children. “I think she wants to meet you, Miles. Say hello.”
Gregory bent to lower her closer to Miles’ level. Miles leaned forward a little, watching her as if she were a strange creature rather than a very small person.
“She can’t understand me,” he said.
“That’s why we must speak to her, so she can learn.”
Though Miles seemed skeptical, he said, “Hello, Kay. Um…you’re a baby.”
“I think she knows that,” Eddie said. “Wait, does she know that?”
Gurgling, Kay reached out toward Miles. When he tilted his chin up away from her, she grabbed his bowtie with a squeal. Was that what had gotten her attention this whole time? It was a rather bright red…
“Cut that out!” Miles said. She only squealed louder, pulling at the tie.
Eddie pried her hand away. “Hey, don’t choke him!”
Covering his tie with his hand, Miles made a face; it must have caught up to him that Kay’s fingers had been covered in drool.
“Careful with that one….she’ll nab the hair from your head. Faraday’s been calling her ‘Little Thief,’” Tyrell said, more distinctly proud than Gregory recalled ever hearing him.
“Then you should arrest her,” Miles said.
“Now, now. She’s just a baby. She doesn’t know better,” Gregory said.
“Besides, she’s so cute!” Eddie said.
“Eeee,” Kay agreed.
“That’s not a defense in court,” Miles said.
“If you want to be the one in charge of arrests…there’s always detective work,” Tyrell said.
That again. If they went on like this, he would try to steal Gregory’s son in addition to his apprentice. He glanced at the clock.
“We should get going,” he said.
Despite Tyrell’s earlier impatience, he didn’t rush to the door. “We still don’t know…what to do with the kid.”
“I’m fine alone. And Eddie’s here,” Miles said.
“The other kid.”
For all of his hurry to grow up, Miles seemed taken aback at the realization that he wasn’t the only child.
“It may not be what you wanted, but we could always watch the game here,” Gregory said.
“If we have to,” Tyrell said, sounding less bothered than expected.
“Oh, sure. We can finish Bake’n’Bop later, Miles,” Eddie said. “Why don’t we play chess in the other room?”
“What? But…”
Gregory mouthed a thank you to Eddie, who winked. As Miles was herded out, he gave Tyrell one last searching look. With things less rowdy, the significance of the occasion belatedly caught up to Gregory. He would have adjusted his tie were Kay not trying to eat it.
“Well, now you’ve met Miles,” he said. For all of his cross-examinations, he was unable to bring himself to voice the obvious question.
“He’s already like a little lawyer.”
Gregory’s mouth twitched. “Does that mean he tramples the scene and obscures the truth?”
Huffing a snort, Tyrell dropped down onto the couch. “Depends who he learns from…I guess.”
With a smile and Kay finally settling down in his arms, Gregory joined him. The afternoon proceeded quietly, the main interjections coming from Tyrell objecting to the referee’s calls, and Kay throwing up her arms whenever the crowd cheered. By the end of the game, she’d stolen Gregory’s glasses and Tyrell’s cap, and Gregory had taken advantage of Tyrell finishing his lollipop to steal a candy-flavored kiss—but the court would never hear about any of it.