Sleepy Hollow: Children of the Revolution by Keith R.A. DeCandido Page A

she’d been a cop in Pittsburgh before she moved to New York for her husband’s job. But Emmett was a retired stevedore who mostly just liked the quiet of the overnight. He didn’t really sign on for being cut to pieces.
    None of them did.
    That was the great thing about museum securitywork. It was mostly just dealing with stupid tourists who didn’t get the concept of not touching things. The only criminals were either thieves or vandals.
    But murderers? That was a whole other level.
    Bedraj spent the rest of the day wandering around the museum trying not to be conspicuous. He didn’t think he entirely succeeded, but it mostly didn’t matter, because the three cops Tomas had left behind weren’t even trying. The day’s patrons were confused and nervous at the presence of NYPD in the building. For the first few years after the twin towers fell, it wasn’t unusual to see a heavy police presence in any public building in town. If nothing else, it made people feel safer. But that had tapered off over the years, to the point where now such a presence made people
more
nervous.
    He also made contact with the Society of the Cincinnati and the board to discuss the threat. Beth had been right in that it made his life easier this way. It looked like Bedraj did his job well, identifying the threat and bringing it to them instead of the other way around. They were grateful that Bedraj was already planning tighter security, and they all agreed to discontinue the webcam until the threat was passed. IT put up a message saying that there were technical problems with the feed, which Bedraj hoped wouldn’t raise suspicions. The main thing was to cut off an avenue of surveillance for the thieves.
    Bedraj was pretty much a wreck by the time sixo’clock rolled around. For almost two decades, he’d been keeping this place safe, but the worst thing that happened to anyone was that time a sculpture fell on a mover and broke the man’s leg in four places (the sculpture survived unscathed). There was the occasional trip-and-fall, the occasional drunk or high students, but nobody had ever even gotten seriously hurt on his watch, much less killed.
    At about five, he got a text from his wife, saying that she was home from her shift at the hospital and dinner was going to be lamb stew.
    He loved Milena’s lamb stew.
    The three cops left and were replaced by three others, while both Jessica and Emmett reported for their shift.
    At about a quarter past, Irving and Beth both showed up. They all stood at the foot of the Comfort staircase on the first floor, the front doors having been locked, the general public and staff all ushered out.
    “We got this, Bedraj,” Beth said with a small smile. “Get on home to Milena and the kids.”
    “Yeah, I can’t.” He shook his head, the phantom taste of the lamb stew on his lips. “First of all, it’s just Milena—both boys are away at college now. And besides …” He sighed heavily. “I need to make a phone call. Excuse me.” Pulling his smartphone from his pocket, he called their Bronx apartment.
    As always, she answered in Armenian. “Yes, my love?”
    In the same language, he replied, “My apologies, little flower, but I’m afraid I must remain late at work. There is a small crisis.”
    “What kind of crisis? Is everyone okay?”
    Bedraj smiled. Milena was always thinking of other people first. “Everyone’s fine—but I need to remain this evening and do another shift in order to make sure that everyone
remains
fine.”
    “Of course, my love. Be well. I will save some stew for you to heat up when you get home.”
    “Thank you, little flower. I love you.”
    “I love you, too.”
    Now Beth was staring at him angrily with her hands on her hips. “Okay, my Armenian’s kinda rusty, but I’m pretty sure you just told Milena that you’re not coming home tonight.” She smirked. “This is how wives get suspicious of their husbands having affairs, y’know.”
    Bedraj rolled his