Joy leans back against the paneled walls of the elevator, chewing her bottom lip as she checks her phone for the fifth time. She got a text this morning from Gabby letting her know that they had a case, but so far, her partner-not to mention their so-called consultant-has yet to reply. They hadn't answered Gabby either, so Joy took it upon herself to stop in at Lux. She would have gone to Sam first, but she doesn't know where he lives and honestly isn't quite sure she wants to.

It's been a few weeks since she started working with the father-son duo. They all seem to be working well together, but the bond between them still feels tenuous, as if they aren't a cohesive unit just yet. Joy wonders if this is typical of new partnerships, or if there is something she should be doing to fix it. When she had worked undercover in Narcotics, she had been mostly on her own, checking in with her team back at the precinct only when necessary. And she's never had a partner before, especially not a partner as odd as the one she's now found herself with.

Just her luck, she thinks sourly, that the first partner she's been given in her career ends up being the most unconventional one she's ever met.

Even though she has an open invitation to Lucifer's penthouse, she hasn't been back since she first started. So she is quite surprised with what she sees when she steps out of the elevator.

For a heart-stopping moment she thinks she's walked into the aftermath of a slaughter. Eventually her brain catches up with her and lets her know that the bodies sprawled on the floor and across the couches are just unconscious, not dead. As she looks on, one of the men on the couch lets out a loud snore and shifts to lay his head on the shoulder of the woman sleeping next to him. Half-drunk liquor bottles litter the floor, and there are a few empty pizza boxes stacked next to the bar waiting to be tossed out.

The piano is the only item in the room that seems to have escaped the detritus of what was, clearly, one hell of a party.

She jumps when Lucifer pops up from behind the bar.

"Good morning, Miss Roberts." He greets her cheerfully, as if they aren't surrounded by unconscious people in various stages of undress. "I was just about to call you." He holds up his phone.

"I see you had a party last night?" She says, carefully stepping over a woman curled up around a bottle of champagne. She's given up on him ever calling her by her first name, like Sam does. And she knows she'll never get him to call her Detective.

"Just a small one." Lucifer replies airily. "Not nearly as good as the revelries I used to throw before I married, of course." He picks up a nearby bottle and pours a glass for himself. "Those were far more licentious, I assure you."

"I believe it." Joy picks up an abandoned bikini top with two fingers, wrinkling her nose. "I don't suppose you know who's missing this?"

There's a naughty gleam in Lucifer's eyes, and he smirks at her. "No, but I'm sure we can find out, if you're curious."

"Don't bother." She tosses it away from her with a sigh. "Have you seen-"

She breaks off at the sight of Sam stalking out of the bedroom, leather duffel in one hand, a rolled up sleeping bag in the other. He must have just come from taking a shower-his hair is still damp, though his cream-colored dress shirt is perfectly dry. He tosses the duffel and sleeping bag to the floor with a thump.

"Well, it's not in the closet." He says to no one in particular. "And I checked the bedroom. It has to be here somewhere."

Lucifer eyes his son. "You had it when you arrived, didn't you?"

"Of course I did!" Sam shakes his head. He turns to Joy with a sheepish expression. "I'm sorry that you had to come all the way over here, Joy. We have a case?"

The irritated wind goes out of her sails. "Yeah. I texted you. When you didn't answer, I decided to try here." She doesn't want to admit that she was actually worried about him.

Sam runs his hands through his hair. "I would have replied, but I lost my phone somewhere around here last night and haven't been able to find it." His gaze lifts above her head to the upper floor. "Any luck up there, Eve?" He calls out.

"Sorry, sugar, it's not up here." Eve appears at the top of the spiral staircase, looking far more put together than Joy would after a wild night partying. She's stunning in a black dress covered with blooming, crimson roses, her dark hair flowing behind her as she bounces down the stairs.

She greets Joy with a dazzling smile. "Good morning, Joy. It's good to see you again."

As usual, it's impossible not to smile back. "It's good to see you too, Eve." She means it. She hasn't seen Eve since dinner at Linda's house.

Despite the invitation to attend regular Sunday dinners, Joy has not been back there, either. It's not that she feels unwelcome-on the contrary, Sam's aunt and uncle assured her that she was welcome back anytime-but she doesn't feel comfortable intruding on Sam and his family too much.

"I'm sure we'll find it." Eve is consoling Sam now. "Do you remember the last time you saw it?"

Sam tilts his head back and pinches the bridge of his nose, thinking. "Let's see, I showed up around...nine, and had it then. I know I let Gary borrow it to call his wife…" Sam spins towards the balcony. "Maze? Is Gary out there?"

"He is, and he says he gave the phone back to you." Maze's voice drifts back in towards them from the direction of the hot tub on the other side of the wall. Sam curses under his breath.

Joy scans the crowded room. "It looks like you invited half of L.A. to this thing." She nudges an empty liquor bottle with her foot.

"We would have invited you too, Joy," Sam tells her earnestly, "but Dad's parties can be a little…"

"Stimulating?" Lucifer offers with a smirk.

"Unruly." Sam retorts. "It can be jarring, especially for the uninitiated."

"Besides, this is the first one he's thrown in a long time." Maze adds as she saunters into the room, wearing a black bikini that leaves little to the imagination. "We thought he might have lost his touch."

Lucifer sets his glass down on the bar with a smack. "Just because it has been a while since I have hosted such a large gathering hardly means that I have lost my touch, Mazikeen." He snaps. It's obvious that he takes her comment as a personal affront. "The sheer number of guests that showed up last night based on rumor alone should be proof of that."

Maze shrugs. "They could have just shown up for the free booze." She seems to have an unnatural enjoyment for winding Lucifer up. She gives Joy a cool smile.

Before Lucifer can snarl out a response, Sam interrupts. "When you two have finished your bickering, could you help me look for my phone?" He's now hunting around the unconscious bodies on the couch, shifting body parts around with indifference. "I would like to leave sometime today, you know."

"Don't you have one of those Find My Phone apps?" Eve asks. She rests her chin on Maze's shoulder.

"Those only tell you the general location," Sam grumbles, lifting up somebody's arm and turning it this way and that. "Not the specific room." He lets the arm fall with a thump and sighs.

Lucifer flaps his hand dismissively. "Just buy a new phone."

"I want the one I came in with, Father." Sam glares. "Now are you going to help me or not?"

Lucifer huffs at his son. "I'm certain I'll find it in two minutes."

Sam takes a step back from the couch, holding his arms out as if to say, be my guest.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," Lucifer sighs as he strides out from behind the bar.

He pauses dramatically in the middle of the living room, his head tilted to one side. After only a few moments, he plunges a hand in between two of the girls on the couch and pulls out the missing phone, holding it out to his son triumphantly.

"There, I told you."

Sam snatches it from his father's grasp. He examines it, wrinkling his nose. "Well, at least it's not sticky this time." She hears him mumble before tucking it in his pocket.

"Now that the mystery is solved," Joy says dryly. "Can we get going?"

"Yes, of course." Lucifer grabs his jacket from where it's lying on the piano bench and slips it on. "Maze, be a gem and clean up, will you?"

"Do I look like your maid?" Maze retorts as he passes by her. "I won't-"

"You three go to work," Eve cuts in cheerfully. "We'll take care of things here. Sam, just leave your sleeping bag and duffel. I can drop them off at your place when we're done. It's on the way." She reminds Maze when her girlfriend scowls at her.

"You're a darling, Eve." Slipping into his own leather jacket, Sam leans over to give Eve a smacking kiss on the cheek. He winks at Maze. "You ladies can just go ahead and help yourselves to anything in the liquor cabinet while you're there. Come on, Joy." He nudges her toward the elevator. "Before he leaves without us."

Indeed, Lucifer is already impatiently waiting for them in the elevator.

"Good luck!" Joy hears Eve call out over her shoulder.

She spins to give the women a quick wave before joining Lucifer and Sam in the elevator.

Just as the doors close, she hears Maze murmur, "You're going to need it."

Joy hurries through the doors of the squat, nondescript building that houses their crime scene. Uniforms hang around the front, keeping the spectators at bay, though she's grateful to see that there aren't many. Sometimes they get lucky, and among the bystanders there are a few reliable witnesses, but most times it's just a bunch of curious rubberneckers.

The actual crime scene reminds Joy a lot of an elementary school lunchroom. Metal folding chairs are lined up against one wall and against a wood stage that has seen better days. The windows would let in a lot more light if someone had bothered to give them a wash, and fluorescent lights buzz angrily above their heads. The cheap, black and white linoleum floor has been stained pink by the blood that is currently congealing under their murder victim's prone body.

Their victim had been middle-aged, with brown hair just turning grey. A pair of reading glasses lay next to his head, the lenses cracked. Joy thinks he looks a bit like a librarian, or school principal, though that might have just been the setting.

"Benjamin Gray." Gabby tells them, her voice echoing in the empty room. She takes another picture of the body with her camera. "Forty years old. The pastor found him here this morning." She raises her eyebrows at Sam. "You're late."

"Had trouble finding my phone this morning." Sam replies with a shrug.

"You know better than to bring your real phone to one of Uncle Lucifer's parties." Gabby teases. "Always, always bring a burner phone."

Sam makes a face at her. "It's been a while, all right?"

"What about a pastor?" Joy reminds Gabby.

Gabby spreads her arms out to encompass the room. "Welcome to the New Beginnings Church."

"Apparently so new that they don't even have a proper building." She hears Lucifer say derisively.

"I don't think they're big enough." Gabby says. "The pastor says that they only have thirty members in total."

"He's still around?" Sam asks, crouching down to get a better look at the body.

"In his office." Gabby puts her camera back in her bag and takes out some latex gloves. She hands Joy a pair. "I haven't found the murder weapon yet, but he was definitely hit with something sharp and pointy."

"Well, that narrows it down." Sam comments dryly.

Joy investigates the stage, where she has spotted a podium set off to the side, almost hidden by the curtains. She slips on the gloves as she clambers up onto the stage to get a better look. Nothing much, she observes, except for a worn Bible, some notecards…

Jackpot.

"Gabby, could he have been hit with this?" She holds up the silver cross that was buried underneath the papers.

Gabby comes rushing over. "He could have been." She takes it from Joy with a smile.

Sam is still frowning thoughtfully at the body, Lucifer hovering over him. "This wasn't a planned kill." He speculates when Joy and Gabby return. "Too messy. My guess is he ticked someone off."

"Like the pastor?" Joy motions to the cross she found, but Gabby is shaking her head.

"Not the right size." She tells Joy regretfully. "See the base, here? It would have left a much bigger gash if he was hit with it. I'll put it under a black light to check for blood, but I don't think this is our murder weapon."

Lucifer peers over his son's shoulder "What's that caught in his braces?"

Joy blinks. "What?" The man was forty years old, and his mouth was closed. How could he have something caught in his braces?

"He means suspenders." Sam translates absently. He gestures for Gabby to hand him a pair of tweezers, and he holds up the piece of red plastic that must have gotten caught during the struggle. "Nice catch, Dad."

"Well, I have been doing this for a while." Lucifer says with false modesty.

"I'll take it back to the lab." Gabby slips the piece of plastic into an evidence bag. "You guys should go talk to the pastor. I'll finish up here."

Joy and Lucifer follow Sam out of the main room and into a hall where the church's administration offices are. One of them has the pastor's name engraved on the sign outside.

David Cross

Sam gives the door a perfunctory knock and, without waiting for permission, lets himself in.

The pastor's office is broken up into two rooms, with a small waiting area adjoined to the actual office in the back. The door across from them has been left slightly ajar, so that Joy can just hear somebody talking on the phone. Probably the pastor.

Other than that, the room is nothing special. There is a set of tables and chairs in one corner, a water cooler in the other. A bookshelf takes up one wall next to a standard-size filing cabinet. A couple of houseplants-fake ones, she decides, seeing as this room doesn't have a window-sit on the table and the top of the bookshelf. It could just as easily be the office for an accountant, or one of those personal injury lawyers.

The only difference is all the religious paraphernalia scattered about the room. Joy notes the figurine of the Virgin Mary set among the books on the shelf, the framed Bible passages that are hung above the door of the office.

And the giant painting of Heaven that takes up most of the wall one her left.

At least, she assumes it's supposed to be Heaven. There are a lot of clouds and blue sky. On a set of white stairs sits an angel playing the harp for a bunch of people dressed in white robes.

Perhaps the artist meant for the painting to be a source of comfort and spirituality, but all it does for Joy is creep her out.

"Well, there's something I don't see every day." Lucifer has come up behind her, eyeing the painting with disgust. "It looks nothing like that, for the record."

She can't resist. "Hasn't it been a while since you were in Heaven?" She doesn't need catechism to know the story of the Devil being kicked out.

She meant it as a tease, but as usual, he takes her seriously. "I suppose they could have re-modelled since I've left." He acknowledges. He turns to Sam, who has somehow unlocked the filing cabinet and is going through its contents. "You were up there recently-please tell me it doesn't look like this."

Sam slides the drawer to the file cabinet closed and comes over to stand on Joy's other side. "No, thankfully. Otherwise I'd visit even less than I already do." He taps the angel in the painting lightly. "Why do humans always depict angels playing the harp? I don't know a single one of our relatives who plays. You certainly don't."

"It's not that I don't know how, it's that I don't want to." His father corrects him. Lucifer leans forward to further study the angel. "Who is that even supposed to be?" He huffs after a second.

"Uncle Michael." Sam grins.

"How do you figure?"

"You know how tone-deaf he is." Sam points to the audience members. "Just look at how much pain everyone seems to be in."

He and Lucifer snicker.

Joy sighs.

At that moment, the pastor of the church walks in, rubbing his hands over his face. "I'm so sorry to keep you waiting." He tells them. "I was just letting some of our parishioners know about Benny-Benjamin." He holds out a hand to Joy. "I'm David Cross, the pastor for New Beginnings. Call me Dave."

"Detective Roberts." She replies, shaking his hand briskly. "Did you know Benjamin well?"

The pastor smiles ruefully. He's a pleasant-looking man, with a round face and kind eyes. "We're not a large church, Detective. Because of that, we're all very close. Ben was part of my congregation for five years. He worked as an accountant at a local firm-he also handled the money side of things for us."

"Did he have any problems with anyone? Enemies?"

The pastor widens his eyes piously. "We have but one enemy, Detective."

"Twenty bucks says it's you." She hears Sam hiss to his father behind her.

But the pastor surprises them. "In our church, we believe that we are our own worst enemy." He tells them. Joy hears Sam pull out his wallet to pay his father. "Our vices, our shortcomings, those are what drag us down. Here at New Beginnings, we use the word of God to help us rise above those imperfections, so that we can enter the Kingdom of Heaven." He gestures to the painting. "One of my parishioners made this, as a way to remind us of what we're working towards."

Lucifer scoffs. "If that's what you think you're getting, then you're all going to be very disappointed."

Before the pastor can voice the confusion on his face, Sam breaks in. "I think my partner was asking along the lines of human enemies, Pastor." He says easily. "Has he been arguing with anyone that you know of?"

The pastor shakes his head. "No, but…" He trails off, frowning. "Well, there is one thing. Benny actually hasn't been to church for the past three weeks. He wouldn't tell me why, but it didn't sound bad. He just said he had a lot on his plate for the moment." He shrugs. "I'm certainly not going to force people to attend, but it did seem a little strange. Benny has always been very active in the church."

"If you don't mind me asking, Dave," Joy watches the pastor carefully. "Where were you last night?"

The pastor smiles at her genially. "I don't mind at all, Detective. It so happens I was offering comfort to another one of my parishioners, Sally Johansson. She just had hip replacement surgery. I can get you the names of the doctors and nurses, if you'd like."

"If we could also get the names and numbers of the members of your congregation, that would be helpful."

"Of course."

She waits until the pastor has returned to his office, then turns to confer with Sam. "What do you think?"

"I think he's a few letters short of Corinthians, if you get my drift."

She scowls. "Not that. He doesn't seem like our guy. The person who killed Benjamin had a lot of rage."

"I agree. Besides, killing poor Benny isn't exactly a good step if you're looking to get to Heaven." Sam jerks his head to the painting. "If his alibi checks out, we're going to have to-oh, Hell."

She whirls around to see that Lucifer had cornered the poor Pastor in his office, nattering on about the validity of the painting.

"Thank you for your time, we'll call you." Sam speaks over his father's tirade, grabbing the back of his jacket. "Come on, Dad, outside." He and his father bicker their way out the door.

She takes the names and numbers from the shaking hands of the pastor and follows them out.

Sam pores through the New Beginning's social media page, on the lookout for any suspicious members of Pastor Dave's congregation. Nothing so far, except for a bunch of bake sales and luncheons.

"It's false advertising." His father is slumped in the chair in front of Sam's desk, using a second chair as a footrest. Joy left them almost as soon as they returned to the precinct, offering to go check on Gabby in the lab, which means Sam has been left alone to listen to his father's complaints. "Using that kind of propaganda as a way to force people to better themselves is just cruel and unusual."

"I believe it's called artistic license." Sam replies. One of the most useful skills he's picked up over the years is the ability to work while simultaneously talking to his father. "And it's just a painting, Dad. If the New Beginnings Bunch wants to believe that Heaven is full of harp-playing angels, then that's their problem. Personally, I find it rather funny. I mean really, do you know any other creature on Grandfather's green Earth besides humans that spends all their time trying to visualize Heaven, a place most of them might not even see?" He leans away from his computer to stare hard at his father. "You've never cared about what humans thought of Heaven before. Why are you suddenly so worked up about this?"

His father steeples his hands over his chest, gazing up at the ceiling of the precinct. "Dr. Linda asked me how I felt about going back." He says after a long moment.

Sam's fingers still over his keyboard. He doesn't need to ask what place his father's referring to. "Was this therapy, or just idle conversation?"

"Therapy. Why?"

After Sam's mother died, his father outright refused therapy, even after he had returned from his mysterious six-month disappearance. The fact that he has decided to go back to his weekly meetings with Aunt Linda is just as surprising as the news that he told her about his possible return to The Silver City.

Though it does explain the six missed calls from his Aunt Linda on Sam's phone.

Most of the family assumed that Sam brought his father back as a consultant as a way to pull him out of the bitter isolation he'd been in since his wife died. Sam hadn't told anyone other than Charlie the real reason-that he made a deal with Grandfather to get his dad back into Heaven. He didn't want to get anyone's hopes up, because even now, he's not sure his scheme would work.

Did this admission mean his father was actually reflecting on his eventual return to Heaven? He hasn't mentioned the idea for a few weeks, and Sam has been afraid to bring it up again.

"Just curious." Sam goes back to scrolling through the New Beginning's Instagram page. "What did Aunt Linda have to say about it?"

"She says it's perfectly normal to be nervous about going back." His father sends him an incredulous look, as if to say can you believe that?

"It has been a while since you lived there." Sam says in agreement, privately thinking this is the understatement of the century. "I imagine that there will probably be a short adjustment period."

"What would I have to adjust to?" His father scowls. "I doubt that place has gotten any less boring in the time since I've left."

But Sam isn't fooled. The fact that his father had brought it up in therapy means that it's been on his mind, probably has been for days. It wasn't just being allowed back in Heaven after being so ceremoniously kicked out; it was dealing with siblings he hasn't spoken to in centuries. It was finally being with the woman he loved more than anything for an eternity.

It occurs to Sam that last night's debaucherous party was probably his father's way of distracting himself from all that anxiety.

Vowing that he'll call his aunt as soon as he has a free minute, he gives his father a wry smile. "Don't worry, Dad. I'm sure you won't have to play the harp unless you absolutely want to."

His father makes a sound through his nose that might be a laugh.

Their conversation is interrupted by Gabby, who comes flying out of her lab, Joy right behind her.

"Got us a lead." Gabby tells Sam proudly. She holds up an evidence bag. "I finally figured out what this red thing was that you pulled off of Benjamin's suspenders. It's an acrylic nail...or a piece of one."

Sam takes the bag from his friend. "Our killer is a woman?"

"Or a drag queen." His father suggests, placing his feet on the floor.

"That's not all." Gabby continues excitedly. "Using that, I think I figured out the murder weapon. Based on the size and depth of the head wound, I think he was killed with…" She takes a deep breath, pausing for drama. "A stiletto heel."

Sam blinks. "Someone bashed our guy's head in with a high heel shoe?"

"So, it's true. Beauty really is pain." His father remarks with a grin. Joy makes a face.

Sam thinks about this. "Ok, say Benny gets in an argument with a woman-or drag queen-" he glances at his father. "They lose control and take off one of their shoes and hit him on the head so hard they kill him."

"And they break off one of their nails during the scuffle." Joy adds.

"What are we thinking, angry wife? Resentful mistress, maybe?" He tilts his head as he studies the blood-red piece of nail.

Joy shakes her head. "I checked-he wasn't married, and no sign of a girlfriend. But it might have something to do with this." She hands him a sheet of what looks like rules and regulations. "The techs found that on his home computer."

"The Miss Malibu Beauty Pageant?" He reads aloud. He and his dad exchange grins. "Well, I sure hope he wasn't a contestant."

"Nope. He was one of the judges." Joy is giving the papers in his hands a dark look. "That's probably why he hasn't been to church in a while. He didn't want them to know what he was up to."

He finds her disapproving expression amusing. "Sounds like our victim wasn't the only judgey one around here." He teases. "I take it you are not a fan of beauty pageants, Joy?"

Her eyes flash. "No, I'm not. They enforce the idea that a woman should only be judged on appearance. It doesn't matter how intelligent she is, or if she's a decent human being, just that she looks good in a stupid ball gown."

"I believe that is why they call it a 'beauty' contest, and not a personality contest." Sam's father says laconically. "And it's not as if these women were forced to enter." He grabs the list of rules out of Sam's hands. "They chose to participate. I know that I'm certainly not going to argue over the validity of their choices." He adds righteously and smiles. "Especially when it's beneficial for me."

This earns him a scowl from Joy.

"That doesn't make it any less sexist." Joy crosses her arms over her chest. "But putting all that aside, our case just got more complicated. There's what, twenty, thirty girls who participate in this thing? That opens up a huge pool of suspects. Any one of them could have killed our guy."

"Twenty girls in total." Gabby chirps, scrolling around on her phone. Sam can just see the reflection of the pageant's website in her glasses.

He smiles. Gabby wasn't just a forensic scientist, but also their resident technological analyst. If there was anything online that would help them with the case, his Gabby would find it.

"Plus, you have to include the parade of hair stylists, personal trainers, make-up artists and other professionals who are involved." Gabby continues. "Miss Malibu might not be on the same level as the Miss Universe pageant, but it's still the biggest one in the area."

"That's a lot of ground to cover." He admits. Because he can't help but needle her, he says to Joy, "Maybe you should go undercover as a contestant. You know, narrow down our suspect list a bit. I don't suppose you have a swimsuit to wear?"

She gives him a look that says she would dearly like to take a note out of their murderer's book and beat him over the head with one of her shoes.

"No, it says here they removed the swimsuit competition." His father says in a disappointed voice. "A travesty, if you ask me. That was the best part!"

Joy turns her back on both of them. "Where's the pageant being held?" she asks Gabby.

Gabby checks. "Um, the Four Seasons Hotel. I'll text you the address."

"Right. We'll go talk to whoever is running the pageant-they might know if our victim was having problems with anyone." Joy points at him. "This time I'm driving."

Before Sam can answer, his father practically leaps up out of his chair. "Shotgun!"

It's always easier to let his father have his own way, so Sam just uncurls himself from his chair and bounces up next to Gabby.

"Why didn't you come to the party last night, Gabs? You missed out on all the fun." He says, bumping his childhood friend with his shoulder.

"Dude, you texted me about two hours after the party started." Gabby shakes her head at him as they walk. "You know my rule-you need to call me at least an hour before the party if you want me to show up." She grins at Joy, who has stopped to stare at the two of them "Uncle Lucifer's parties are wild. I need at least an hour to mentally prepare for them."

"Based on what I saw this morning, I can believe that." Joy says dryly, falling into step beside them.

"This has nothing to do with her rule." Sam accuses good-naturedly. "Gabby can party with the best of them. Comes from growing up with my father." He tugs affectionately on her hair. "What, was there a new food documentary you haven't made me watch yet? That last one put me off my dinner for a week."

He and Gabby have been best friends since they were toddlers. She was one of the few people who knew the whole story of his dad, the literal Devil, and actually believed it. Sam didn't know if it was because, out of all his Aunt Ella's children, Gabby was the most like her mother, or if it was because she had been friends with him for so long, or some combination of the two. But not only did Gabby believe the fact that his father had ruled Hell, she was totally fine with it.

Sam wonders if she'll still be fine with it once he tells her that he will be taking over Hell in his father's place.

Her friendship is important to him, and though it scrapes his pride, he hasn't been able to bring himself to tell her that eventually there will be a new King of Hell.

"No, no documentary." Gabby snickers. "Actually, it was because Rafa called. My younger brother." She explains to Joy. "He lives in New York, so I don't get to talk to him much. Time difference."

"How's Julliard treating him?" Sam asks. He and Rafael had always gotten along all right, though he had never been as close to Gabby's younger brother and sister. They were not quite as willing to believe in the whole "my-dad-is-the-devil-no-really" thing as Gabby was.

"He's crushing it, of course." Gabby said with sisterly pride. She turns to Joy with a smile. "Rafa's the musical genius of the family. He plays a ton of instruments, but he's concentrating on the violin."

Joy is suitably impressed. "He must be good, to get into Juilliard."

"With some help from Dad." Sam points out. "Speaking of which…" He gestures to the top of the stairs, where his father is staring down at them imperiously. "We better get a move on."

Gabby gives his shoulder a pat. "Smell you later, Decker." She waves to Joy before veering off to return to her lab.

He sighs. He really wished his Aunt Azrael hadn't taught Gabby that outdated catch phrase.

"Did your dad really help Gabby's brother into Juilliard?" Joy asks in a low voice as they pick up the pace.

"It's not that big a deal. He just made a phone call." He waves it away. "Dad has a great deal of respect for the arts, but mainly he did it because he likes Aunt Ella. He considers her a friend-and he doesn't make friends easily." He gets to the top of the stairs and gives Joy and his father a wicked smile. "Now, let's go act out a personal fantasy of mine-interrogating a bunch of beauty contestants for murder."