“Philip—” Weatherbee said patiently.
“Did you find out who the Wordmonger was? Did you catch him? There hasn’t been anything on the news, but that’s hardly surprising, is it? Everyone’s so tight-lipped when it comes to the royal family. I heard the king has dogs—big ones for hunting. Did you see his dogs?”
“Philip—”
“Were the accommodations lavish? I’ll wager they were. I stayed at the Savoy once, and that was really nice, but we’re talking about Buckingham Palace. Were you allowed to take photos? Oh, I’d love to see photos from inside the palace. Were the—”
“Philip!” Weatherbee cried, and Philip immediately cut off.
“Sorry,” he said in a small voice. “I was doing it again, wasn’t I?”
Bob stepped out from behind Philip, bearing a tray covered in small cups. “Tea?”
“Oh, lovely,” Weatherbee said, grabbing a cup and saucer and taking an immediate sip. He sighed contentedly. “Remind me to put you in for a promotion, Constable Frapples.”
“Yes, sir, I will,” Bob said.
The others gathered around and took their own cups. Hissie turned to Weatherbee.
“Dad?” she said. “May I have a private word?”
“Of course,” Weatherbee said, and they walked the length of the room and turned into Weatherbee’s office. Bob and Philip looked at one another, then at Dick.
“‘Dad’?” they asked together.
“Oh yeah,” Dick said. “The inspector is Hissie’s father.”
“Who is Hissie?” Bob asked.
“Ms. Fits,” Big said matter-of-factly. He turned to Dick. “Though I guess she’s Constable Frienderfoe now, isn’t she?”
“Yep,” Dick said.
“I think we need to be brought up to speed,” Bob said.
A few minutes later, Weatherbee and Hissie returned. She looked terribly excited, and he looked resigned to something.
“My daughter has something she’d like to ask you, Dick,” Weatherbee said.
Dick exchanged a glance with Big. “All right . . .” he said warily.
“Lieutenant Shonnary,” Hissie said formally, “if you’ll have me, I’d like to return to America with you and become a member of Typo Squad.”
Dick looked from Hissie to Weatherbee and back again. “You what?”
“I want to come with you to the States and join your team.”
“I see,” Dick said. “And you’ve talked this over with your father, I take it?”
Weatherbee nodded. “I confess that I shall miss her terribly, but she made quite a few fair points. You’ll be down an agent with Ewan remaining here. It will be an excellent chance for her to experience a different worldview. And she’ll be judged fairly on her skills and abilities, without a father’s bias.”
Dick thought it over for a few moments, and then turned to Big. “What do you think?”
“I don’t know,” Big said seriously. “Finding the right replacement for Ewan is a weighty problem.”
“So are you,” Hissie said without hesitation.
“Bam! And she knocks it out of the park!” Big said, delighted. He pulled a grinning Hissie into a tight, rib-crunching hug. “Welcome to the team!”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
They spent the remainder of the afternoon recounting their adventure at the palace for Bob and Philip, who listened with rapt attention. Dick had just reached the medal ceremony part of the story when the front door swung open and two men in black suits with dark sunglasses stepped in. Behind them entered Anne.
“Will you two wait outside, please?” she asked crossly. “Honestly, it’s like having nannies with me wherever I go.”
The two men wordlessly exited the building.
“Anne!” Ewan said, and crossed the room to embrace her. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, I had to be sure that your comrades hadn’t convinced you to return to America with them, didn’t I?”
“As far as Ewan’s concerned, there is no America,” Dick said. “There’s only you.”
Anne smiled widely as Big made loud, exaggerated gagging sounds.
“Speaking of America,” Weatherbee said, checking his watch, “hadn’t you better be off to the airport?”
Dick looked at his own watch.
“You’re right, we should.” He reached inside his pocket and withdrew Jack’s card. “Bob, would you call our car service for us, please?”
“Of course,” Bob said, excusing himself to his desk.
“It seems my timing was perfect,” Anne said, approaching Dick. She held out her hand, seemed to think better of it, and stepped forward, putting her arms around his neck and hugging him. Dick hesitated, then returned her embrace.
“I guess I should be thankful you sent your goons outside,” Dick said. “They probably frown on commoners touching royals.”
Anne laughed as she released him. “They frown on everything.”
She made her way around the room, hugging everyone in turn, and then stepped back to look at them all.
“How can I ever repay you?” she asked, a hitch in her throat. “For catching the Wordmonger, for keeping my family safe, for delaying the decision to accuse my father of a capital crime, and for bringing Ewan back to me. From the bottom of my heart: thank you.”
“You’re entirely welcome, Your Majesty,” Dick said. “Just do me a favor and keep Ewan out of too much trouble, will you?”
“Oh, I daresay I’ll have him in more trouble than he’d find on his own,” Anne said, and everyone in the room laughed.
The front door opened again and in came Jack, their driver.
“Oi! These two wankers insisted on patting me down and one had a proper feel of my bum. What’s going on here, anyway? You tossers need a ride or what?”
He spotted Anne standing among those gathered and froze.
“Your Highness! God bless me, my apologies, I didn’t realize—”
Anne waved him off. “Don’t worry, child, don’t worry. We shall dispense with the hot pokers. This time.”
“We’ll be right out, Jack,” Dick said. “Grab those bags?” He indicated his suitcase, Big’s, and Hissie’s. Jack pulled them together clumsily and scurried back out the way he’d come.
“Dick,” Weatherbee said as everyone commenced their goodbyes. “Look after my Hissie, won’t you?”
“Like she was my own,” Dick replied. “Take care, Weatherbee.”
Dick said farewell to Siya, Bob, and Philip, and saved Ewan for last.
“Typo Squad just won’t be the same without you,” Dick said, grasping the old man’s hand.
“No,” Ewan said, looking over at Hissie, who was saying goodbye to her teammates. “It will be better.”
The two men regarded each other.
“Listen, Richard,” Ewan said, “will you say my goodbyes to the rest of the team? To Anna and Autumn and the others? I fear it will be too difficult for me.”
“Of course I will.”
“Well, so long, Crypt Keeper,” Big said, shoving his way into the conversation. “Enjoy whatever time you have left.”
“Farewell, tubby,” Ewan replied. “Your mother was the best I’ve ever had.”
The two men regarded one another, and then embraced tightly.
“C’mon,” Big nudged Dick after letting Ewan go. “Before I get weepy.”
On their way to the airport, Jack had one eye on the road and one in the rearview mirror, admiring Hissie.
“I see you traded in one of your team for a younger model while you were here,” he said, laughing.
“What, her?” Big said. “She’s not a replacement team member. She’s a souvenir. Here’s hoping that they allow her as a carry-on item.”
“Try and put me in the overhead bin, chuffy,” Hissie said. “See what happens.”
Jack let out a loud guffaw and pounded his hand on the steering wheel.
“Oh, you’ll have your hands full with her, won’t you boys?”
> They swept up a long access road and Dick could see planes taking off in the distance. Jack pulled the cab over at the passenger drop-off, and retrieved their bags from the cab’s trunk.
“Jack,” Dick said, shaking the young man’s hand, “it’s been a real pleasure. I hope we meet again someday.”
“The pleasure’s been all mine, sir,” Jack said. “Have a safe trip home.”
Dick, Big, and Hissie made their way into the terminal.
“Before we go any farther,” Dick said, stopping, “let’s get out of these monkey suits and into something a little more comfortable.”
“That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day,” Big said, tugging at the collar of his dress uniform.
“Do you have utilities?” Dick asked Hissie, who nodded. “Good. Let’s change.”
An hour later, Dick, Big, and Hissie found seats in the departure lounge and settled in. They were once again in their tactical black uniforms, Hissie’s only differing from theirs by the patch on her arm. Big looked around and spotted a small coffee shop nearby.
“C’mon, kid,” he said to Hissie, and they both rose. “I’ll teach you how to get free food by pretending there’s a bug in it.”
They marched off, and with a long inhale, Dick powered up his phone. There were even more messages and emails than when he’d looked at the palace, and he knew he’d have to sort through them all eventually.
The emails were all day-to-day drudgery, and he tired of them quickly. He switched to messages. Some were from colleagues wishing him and the rest of the team good luck, or people just saying hello, but the majority were from Thea.
There was a picture of her with Autumn and Anna, all three toasting with wine glasses at Dick’s mountain cabin. There were snaps of her acting like she was kissing the phone’s camera. And there were a few that Dick would have to remember to delete at some point, but only made him miss her more in that moment.
The last photo was a selfie of Thea standing in front of the beautiful Church of the Pronunciation in downtown Las Palabras. This was captioned, “No pressure, but this would be a lovely venue for a special occasion! As you can see, subtlety is my strong suit!”
Dick laughed out loud. He had missed Thea more than he’d ever dreamed he would, and had actually been entertaining the notion of asking her to be part of a special occasion. The idea frightened and thrilled him in equal measure.
Just as he was calculating what time it was in Las Palabras, and whether or not he’d be waking her from a sound sleep, his phone rang and the image of his girlfriend with a great big smile and a silly, exaggerated wink filled the screen under the name THEA SAURUS. Dick smiled.
He pressed the answer icon and raised the phone to his face. “Hey, you. I was just about to call.”
“Shame, shame, shame, Dick,” came the silky voice of Anton Nym. “You should know better than to leave your toys lying around when you’re not playing with them.”
DON’T GO YET!
HERE’S AN EXCLUSIVE
SNEAK PEEK AT
TYPO SQUAD III!
It was late.
The building was as quiet as an undiscovered tomb. Dick sat in his office, his chair turned toward the windows, watching the full moon as it made its way slowly across the sky.
A light tapping at the door roused him from his reverie, and he slowly spun the chair around. In the doorway were Big, Hissie, Autumn, and Anna.
“Hey, buddy,” Big said, leading the others into the room. “Just wanted to check on you. See how you were doing.”
“Thanks,” Dick said flatly. “I appreciate that.”
“So?” asked Autumn. “How are you doing?”
Dick looked at her silently.
“Right, sorry, stupid question,” Autumn said, examining the floor.
“Considering everything that’s going on, you do seem eerily calm,” Big observed. “Are you on meds? Oh shit, does our new headquarters have its own pharmacy? And if so, can you give me very specific directions how to get there?”
“Hey, listen,” Anna said, cutting across Big, “we’ve been talking with Hissie, and Her Majesty’s Royal Typo Brigade actually has some pretty advanced methods of finding those who don’t want to be found. Thought maybe you might want to hear about some of them.”
“No,” Dick said. “That won’t be necessary.”
“Excuse me?” Anna replied. “I thought you’d want to pursue every possibility here.”
“It’s all right,” Dick said. “I’ve taken care of it.”
“What does that mean?” asked Hissie.
There was another light tapping on the door, and everyone turned to see who it was. The figure stood in shadow in the hallway just outside Dick’s office. Dick motioned for the figure to enter.
The door swung in, and a tall man crossed the threshold. He was middle-aged and handsome, with jet-black hair that was going silver at the temples. His suit and overcoat looked expensive and were impeccably clean. The only thing about the man that looked at all strange was the tattoo on the left side of his neck. It looked very much like the Typo Squad insignia, except that inside the red circle, instead of a pen tip, there was a skull.
“Hey there, Dick,” the man said. “How they hangin’?”
The women watched the stranger impassively, but Big was on his feet in an instant.
“Dick,” Big said, not taking his eyes off the man, “what the fuck is he doing here?”
“Hey there, Big,” said the man. “I heard you were keepin’ in shape. I didn’t know that shape was round.”
“Fuck off, Nero!” Big shouted.
“Hey now, easy there, big fella,” the man said. “You’re gonna make me feel like I ain’t welcome.”
“You’re welcome to kiss my ass, you piece of shit!”
“Big,” Dick said quietly. “Calm down. I invited him.”
Something seemed to click in Big’s brain and all the color drained from his face. He turned to Dick.
“Oh no,” Big said. “No. You didn’t.”
“What choice did I have?”
“Excuse me,” Autumn interjected, “could someone please tell the rest of us what’s going on here?”
Dick rose from his chair and came around to the far side of his desk. “Ladies, this is Nero Pharr. He’s an old friend of mine.”
“He also happens to be head of the Typo Mafia,” Big spat.
The words hung in the air as everyone processed them.
“There’s a Typo Mafia?” Hissie asked.
“I don’t care much for that term,” Nero said. “There are special units in the military that do the dirty work regular military can’t do. My associates and I are, y’know, like that.”
“Oh yeah, you guys are real heroes,” Big said, taking a step toward Nero. “Dealing in black market typos. Arranging typo hits. And why don’t you tell them about the errorotica dens?”
“That’s a public service,” Nero said, smiling widely. He turned to Autumn to explain. “Y’see, there are some folks out there who, let’s say, find worldly pleasure in a good typo. We provide ’em with a safe space to enjoy themselves.”
“And charge them a fortune,” Big said.
Nero shrugged. “Hey, a guy’s gotta make a livin’.”
Big shook his head. “You haven’t changed a bit.”
“Big, how do you know Mister Pharr?” Hissie asked.
“Mister Pharr,” Nero smiled. “I like her.”
“Oh, Nero and I go way back,” Big said with disdain. “We graduated from Typo Academy together. In fact, Nero was Typo Squad before he decided to go into business for himself.”
“Yeah, well, not everyone wears as bright a halo as you, Big,” Nero said. Big took another step toward the man.
“All right, that’s enough,” Dick said, stepping in between them. “Big, I understand how you feel, but Nero can get us the results we can’t get on our own. Right?”
“Right,” Nero replied.
“You’ll get Thea
back unharmed from Anton Nym?”
“Without so much as a hair outta place.”
Dick turned to Big. “See?”
“Yeah?” Big asked. “And what are you going to want in return?”
“That,” Nero said with a wide, shark-like grin, “is a matter for a private discussion.”
ALSO AVAILABLE
BY STEPHEN LOMER
Stargazer Lilies or Nothing at All
Typo Squad
B.B. and Red
Hell’s Nerds
Belle’s Christmas Carol
JOIN TYPO SQUAD TODAY!
Visit www.typo-squad.com to join our ranks and pick up some cool Typo Squad merchandise to show your pride!
The best way you can show your support for an author—besides buying and enjoying his or her books, of course—is to post a review on amazon.
If you enjoyed Typo Squad Book II: Return of the Wordmonger, please post a review today. Thank you!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
A grammar nerd, Star Trek fan, and other things that chicks dig, Stephen Lomer is the author of the hugely popular novel Typo Squad, the short story collections Stargazer Lilies or Nothing at All and B.B. and Red, and the novellas Hell’s Nerds and Belle’s Christmas Carol. He also has featured stories in the anthologies UnCommon Evil, Once Upon a Time in Gravity City, and My Peculiar Family II.
Stephen is the creator, owner, and a regular contributor to the website Television Woodshed, and host of the YouTube series Tell Me About Your Damn Book. He’s a hardcore fan of the Houston Texans, despite living in the Hub of the Universe his whole life, and believes Mark Twain was correct about pretty much everything.
Stephen lives on Boston’s North Shore with his wife, Teresa.
Return of the Wordmonger Page 13