"Well," I said sighing, "You do certainly paint an interesting picture of Hook."

  Barnaby shook his head and sipped his tea.

  "Hook is likely the least of your worries since he's the person paying you, despite your concerns about the clock. I've never heard of anything like what you've described, and while that doesn't mean it's not possible, I will discretely ask a few people who might know something."

  I nodded. "So, who do I have to worry about?" I emphasized the word do.

  "Pan."

  "Isn't he.." Began Anne.

  "I kinda doubt it." Barnaby shook his head. "Anyone who can go toe to toe with James Hook for as long as he has is likely still alive." Barnaby sighed.

  "The problem is,..." Barnaby began before pausing.

  "What?" I asked and Barnaby suddenly grew nervous.

  Barnaby sighed. "If I tell you two, nothing I say leaves here or we're all dead." The normally rosy man was suddenly pale and it started to make me nervous.

  I looked at Anne and she nodded.

  "Yeah." Was all I said.

  He sighed. "Not sure where to begin with this one." It took him a minute to gather his thoughts.

  "You know the basic story of Peter Pan right? A teenage boy with fairy dust who takes unwanted children to never land to fight pirates and go on adventures?"

  We nodded.

  "It's just that, a story. A fairy tale you tell people you don't want to worry, like all those dogs living on farms in the country. only in reality it's children and I have no idea what happens to them."

  I gulped nervously. "What do you mean?"

  "He takes children alright, but what really happens to them I haven't been able to find out. They just vanish. Just like in the movies they fly away but what happens after, I don't know. They could be fighting pirates, but if they are they never come home. Any of them."

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  By the time he finished his voice was nearly devoid of what I would describe as life. The jovial man whom my aunt had introduced me to was gone and I could tell that talking about this hurt him.

  "None?" I asked, the lead ball growing in my gut. I reached up to stroke Anne and after a moment pulled back. She was as stiff as a board.

  "In the years since the book came out, not a single verifiable record of one of the lost boys returning has popped up. There have been over a dozen stories of them returning, but when looked into them none of them hold weight."

  "What do you mean?" Anne asked and I heard anger in her voice. "Did you really try to find the boys?"

  "I've spent decades," Barnaby snarled, "looking for them! So don't you dare accuse me of not trying."

  "Then why don't you publicly ask about it?" I asked as I stroked a visibly upset Anne who was now on my lap.

  "Because people who make an enemy of Peter Pan tend of have short lifespans." He said as the anger began to fade from his voice if not his posture. "He has powerful friends, which is why I'm warning you because I am friends with your aunt. While I doubt you will, I think this is a case you should drop."

  On my lap I heard Anne Sigh. She somehow knew what I'd say before I did.

  "No." Was all I said.

  "Just my luck," Anne said, "First case is something entirely creepy."

  We left the store after that and Barnaby kept the store closed behind us. I stood there for a moment simply enjoying the silence before Anne spoke.

  "So, what do you make of that?" She asked.

  I frowned. "I dunno."

  "Yeah, me either. Question is, does it matter?"

  "What do you mean?" I looked at Anne puzzled.

  "The job we were hired to do was to find the clock, not solve a centuries old conflict."

  I nodded. "True. But the difference might end up being between doing what is right and what is easy."

  She sighed. "I was afraid you were going to say something like that."

  The autumn weather had begun to chill down during the half hour we were in the Witch's Brew and as I watched tiny snowflakes began to fall.

  "So what next? Anne asked after a moment.

  "Our options are limited as our knowledge of the magical world is limited."

  "Aunt Margaret's house." Anne sighed.

  I chuckled. "Her cat's aren't bad."

  Anne sighed louder in an entirely fake way that I knew meant she was looking forward to the treats she always got at my Aunts house.

  We headed down towards my aunt's apartment building. She lives in the Gravesend borough of Brooklyn, which was a block from where I'd first found and met Anne.

  "Do you remember the day we first met?" I asked Anne.

  She snarled. "I remember it was very wet."

  I'd been walking to my aunt Margaret's house to meet her for the first time and had taken a shortcut down an alley when I heard a tiny torte cat meowing only to be hit in the face by a soggy cardboard box.

  "I also remember that wet box hitting you in the face." Anne laughed and I joined her.

  The box had been what Anne had been staying in. She didn't talk much about her life before we met but she did say that her mom had gone out for food and never come back. I thought about bringing it up but I knew she would talk about it when she was ready.

  "Thank you." Was what she said next and it took me by surprise.

  "For what?"

  "Rescuing me that day. I never thanked you for saving me."

  I smiled as I looked up at the window to my aunt's apartment and saw the fat orange cat Cheddar that was always there.

  "You saved me too that day." I said simply.

  We stopped walking and she jumped onto one of the rocks that the kids usually played on in Gravesend park.

  "Thanks." I said, looking at her.

  She knew I hadn't meant the day I'd met her.

  "You saved me first." She smiled, momentarily breaking the tension between us. "It only seemed fair."

  Anne hopped on my shoulder. What she asked next made me sort of trip over my own feet.

  "How's Maple doing?"

  Maple was my daughter. I'd never met her, but her mother Julie, the chief of police had sent me her photo simply to torment me. She wanted me to teach her magic, something I couldn't and wouldn't do.

  "You never talk about how you and Julie got together." Anne said.

  I stopped walking and sighed. "It's complicated."

  "Well UN-complicate it." She emphasized the "un" with plenty of snark in her tone.

  "She ended up coming back into the room and crying, acting like she was the victim."

  It was Anne's turn to sigh. "And it worked."

  I was suddenly getting pain in my temples and I was pretty sure it was shame.

  "Yes."