“You cool. Just make it fast.” He handed Glenn a key chained to a naked Bite-Me-Betty doll. No way would anyone be walking out with the morgue key.

I gave him an ambiguous smile and headed for another set of double doors.

“Miss!” the kid called, his adopted colorful accent dissolving into farm-boy Americana.

Jenks snickered. “Someone wants a date.”

Sandals scuffing, I turned to find Iceman following us. “Ms. Morgan,” the guy said, his eyes dropping to my twin name tags. “If you don’t mind. Could you leave your coffee out here?” At my blank look, he added, “It might wake someone up early, and with the vamp orderly out getting lunch, it would…” He winced. “It might be bad.”

My lips parted in understanding. “Sure,” I said, handing it to him. “No problem.”

Immediately he relaxed. “Thanks.” He turned back to his desk, then hesitated. “Ah, you aren’t Rachel Morgan, the runner, are you?”

From my shoulder Jenks sniggered. “My, aren’t we the famous one.”

But I beamed, facing the kid fully as Glenn fidgeted. He could wait. I wasn’t often recognized—and it was even more rare that I didn’t have to run away when I was. “Yes, I am,” I said, enthusiastically shaking his hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

Iceman’s hands were warm, and his eyes gave away his delight. “Ace,” he said, jiggling on his feet. “Wait here. I’ve got something for you.”

Glenn’s grip on the Bite-Me-Betty doll tightened until he realized where his fingers were, and he shifted his grip to the tiny key. Iceman had gone back to his desk and was rummaging in a drawer. “It’s here,” he said. “Give me a sec.” Jenks started humming the tune to Jeopardy!, finishing when the kid slammed the drawer triumphantly. “Got it.” He jogged back to us, and I felt my face lose its expression when I saw what he was extending proudly to me. A toe tag?

Jenks left my shoulder, shocking Iceman out of a year’s growth when he landed on my wrist so he could see it. I don’t think he’d even known that Jenks was here. “Holy crap, Rachel!” Jenks exclaimed. “It’s got your name on it! In ink, even.” He lifted into the air, laughing. “Isn’t that sweet?” he mocked, but the guy was too flustered to notice.

A toe tag? I held it loosely in my hand, bemused. “Uh, thanks,” I managed.

Glenn made a derisive noise from deep in his chest. I was starting to feel like the butt of a joke when Iceman grinned and said, “I was working the night that boat exploded last Christmas? I made it up for you, but you never came in. I kept it as a souvenir.” His clean-cut face suddenly went nervous. “I…uh, thought you might want it.”