He escorted me to a cramped office and showed me to a chair with a vinyl seat repaired with duct tape. He sat on the edge of a metal desk. “So, you say you know our Yankee Doodle?”

I smiled at the thought of that nickname applying to Owen. He’d probably turn red and cringe. “Yes, I think so. As I said, he was turned over to Children’s Services on July fourth thirty years ago at this station.” I took the photo of Owen out of my purse and handed it to Vinnie. “This is him.”

Vinnie studied the photo, creasing his forehead until his eyebrows almost met in the middle. He then gave a long, low whistle. “Damn, but he looks just like his mama.”

“So the woman who brought him here looked a lot like this?” I asked, gesturing at the photo.

“Yeah.” His eyes took on a distant look as his brain went back thirty years. “I was workin’ that morning. We had the bay open, and I was standin’ outside, and not long after dawn this girl comes staggerin’ up the street, holding a bundle. I think she was aimin’ for the church, but it didn’t look like she was gonna make it. She almost fainted on me, and I barely caught the kid. We got her and the baby inside, and she kept babbling about needing to keep the baby safe. Strange thing was, she was wearin’ a wedding ring. Usually, it’s teenagers and unwed moms who leave babies like that, not married women. She had some bruises on her face, so I thought maybe her husband beat her and she was afraid of what he’d do to the kid.”

“Did she give you her name?”

“No. And I don’t know how she did it, but while we were getting a blanket for the baby and some food for her and calling the police, she just vanished, leaving the baby behind. I mean, I barely turned my back on her, and she was gone. Nobody saw her go. Considerin’ that she could barely walk, that was a neat trick.”

There went my theory that Ramsay had taken the child of his defeated enemies and tried to hide him in the mundane world. It had been Mina who’d sent her child to safety just before the final showdown. What did that mean? Did she have second thoughts? Had she known she was about to die, or had she discovered what Ramsay was up to?

Of course, it might not have been Mina at all. Women who are planning to take over the world and start a magical dynasty don’t generally abandon their newborn infants at a fire station. At least, I didn’t think they would.

“There wasn’t anything with the baby that identified him or gave any clue about him, was there?” I asked.

“Nah, he was just wrapped up in an old shirt. Tiny little thing he was, too—must’ve come a bit early. But there was one thing—later that day we found an envelope with a note on it saying to give it to him—and only to him—if he ever came there looking for it. I swear it wasn’t there with the baby. We only found it after the police and Children’s Services left with the kid.” He shrugged. “I dunno, maybe she hid it while she was here, or dropped it on her way in or out. Hell, she may have come back and left it.”

“What did you do with it?”

“We filed it.” He frowned then, as a memory came back to him. “We probably should have given it to the police, but keeping it seemed like the right thing to do at the time—like that was the obvious thing. Funny, I never even thought of it until now.”

I’d been around magic enough to recognize the signs that envelope was enchanted, which meant it was probably important. “Do you know what was in the envelope?” I asked, moving to the edge of my seat. My heart was racing so quickly that I was almost dizzy.

He shrugged—using practically his whole body to do so. “I dunno. I didn’t open it. I knew I wasn’t supposed to. But it felt like there was something heavy in it beyond just paper, like a key or something.”

“Do you still have it?”

“I’m sure it’s still here. But like the lady said, it don’t go to no one but that kid. He comes here, I’ll find it and hand it over. Otherwise, no dice.”

I forced myself to slide back in my chair so I wouldn’t look overly eager. If it was enchanted, then he didn’t have a choice. “Of course. I understand. I’ll have to talk him into coming. This is a big step for him.”

“So, he’s successful now? He’s had a good life? He’s been safe and happy? ’Cause that’s what his mama wanted for him.”

I didn’t want to tell him about the failed adoption, string of foster homes, and the foster parents who weren’t allowed to get too attached, so I focused on the positives. “He ended up with a family that loved him and took good care of him. He went to school, even has a doctorate,” I said. “I think his mother would be very pleased.” That is, if his mother wasn’t disappointed that he wasn’t ruling the magical world.