We followed Doc to the reception area and bade farewell to George and Spike. Neither of them seemed upset at the idea of parting from us, and unlike Michael and me, they weren’t particularly good at faking it.
“Here, let me help,” Michael said, taking Spike’s leash so Doc would have both hands to hold George’s cage.
“I’ll meet you down at the car in a minute,” I said. “I just need to get a few things from the reception desk.”
“You’re not going to take all that to California?” Michael said, looking dubiously at the copier-paper box I was packing.
“No, but I don’t want to have to come in here to get any of it when we get back in town,” I said. “Way too dangerous - before you know it, I’d agree to help out just for a little while.”
“Good thinking,” he said. “See you down at the car.”
As I was finishing up my packing, Chief Burke strolled up.
“I guess I have to thank you,” he said, offering his hand. “Not that we wouldn’t have figured out who the Ninja really was sooner or later.”
“Might have taken you a while,” I said. “Up until she pulled a gun on us, I thought she was the Iron Maiden.”
“Oh, no,” he said, chuckling. “You were the Iron Maiden. We found several earlier versions of that blackmail file on his hard drive, and the first time the Iron Maiden appeared was a day or two after you came on board here.”
“That’s the last mystery solved, then,” I said. “I can leave with a clear conscience.”
“You’re leaving?” he said.
“Not leaving Caerphilly, except for a vacation,” I said. “But yes, my days at Mutant Wizards are over, thank God.”
“That’s a pity,” he said. “I guess you won’t get to work on that new game your brother talked me into helping him with.”
“Let me guess: he’s doing Cops from Hell.”
“Please,” the chief said with a frown. “Police from Hell.”
“Sounds like a winner,” I said. “Good luck with it.”
“Ah,” he said. “Here they are.”
Several uniformed officers appeared, escorting Roger. The chief watched with satisfaction as they herded him out the door, then tipped his hat and followed them out of the office.
“So you’re leaving us.”
I turned to see Jack Ransom leaning against the entrance wall.
“I’ve done what I set out to do,” I said. “And running an office really isn’t my line.”
“That’s a pity,” he said. “You’re good at it. Only a couple of weeks, and already things are light-years better.”
“That’s because all the real problem cases have been killed off or arrested,” I said.
“And just when I thought things were going better for me, too,” he said. “Did you hear about my promotion?”
“No - what to?”
“Head of all development,” Jack said. “Apparently Rob was waffling on who to choose - wasn’t sure I had the necessary daring and creativity, he said. But when he found out I was responsible for the Nude Lawyers from Hell version, that clinched it.”
“So all’s well that ends well,” I said.
“Almost all,” Jack said. “I was hoping the absent boyfriend would turn out to be… well…”
“Permanently absent?” I suggested.
“Or maybe a myth to scare away people like Roger,” he said.
“Sorry,” I said.
And I was. Sorry, that is. Not that it changed anything. But with Michael waiting for me in the next room, I felt safe admitting, at least to myself, that the chemistry worked both ways. I was attracted to Jack, and if things had been different, it would have been fun finding out if it was more than a passing fancy. And he was right - I was good at this office stuff. Not managing the switchboard, but organizing things, keeping them moving. Running things, so Rob and the programmers and artists could do their job. All the stuff I’d been doing the past few weeks - and all the stuff Liz had been doing, too. Rob needed someone to do all that. If I didn’t have my blacksmithing career, I might find I could be very happy working at Mutant Wizards, and if I didn’t have Michael…
I allowed myself, just for a moment, to imagine that there was another Meg. A Meg who, instead of falling in love with wrought iron at twenty was still, in her thirties, looking for her place in life. A Meg who hadn’t ever walked into a dressmaker’s shop to be fitted for a bridesmaid’s gown and met the most drop-dead gorgeous man she’d ever seen. I could see that other Meg very clearly. I could see her staying on at Mutant Wizards, gradually taking over the practical side of running things, getting to know Jack better. It wasn’t a bad life she’d lead. Maybe even a better one in some ways. Or maybe it only seemed better because I didn’t know the complications it would bring, while I knew all too well the complications of the life I had - the financial instability of blacksmithing, the chaotic juggling act that would probably always be part of Michael’s and my life together. Yes, probably a good life. But it wasn’t my life. Not the life I’d chosen and was choosing again.