Sheyenne gave her interpretation of the old cliché if looks could kill. “What are you doing here? You’ve already pawned the last of our family heirlooms, and I don’t have any more money for you to rip off.”
Travis reacted with clumsily feigned shock. “That’s not very nice, Anne! You’re my sister. Can’t I stop by just to see you?” He noticed the tickets in her hand. I thought he turned pale—and I’m an expert in seeing people turn pale. “Ooh, Shakespeare in the Dark. You’re not one for that highbrow stuff—when did you get so snooty?”
She stuck the tickets in the desk drawer. “Dan and I are going on a date. He’s taking me to the play—alone, without any extra company.”
“Well, la-di-da. Why don’t you go out with me instead? We can talk this out, resolve our differences.”
Sheyenne stared at him in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? I watched you at the press conference! You’re a sock puppet for that vile senator. What did he pay you? And how can you stick up for him, after his people planted a bomb at the Full Moon to kill all kinds of unnaturals—and humans, too?”
“Senator Balfour didn’t have anything to do with that,” Travis said quickly.
“One of his minions called in the threat,” I interrupted. “Sheyenne and I were there when it happened.”
Travis’s expression of indignation looked far more genuine than his previous smiles. “You know, I wish somebody would blow up that place. The Full Moon is a cesspool of unnatural acts. That succubus almost killed me!”
“Only because you went to her!” Sheyenne snapped. “You did it to yourself. You signed the waiver. You were warned, but you went ahead anyway.”
He sniffed. “Doesn’t matter. I should have been protected from myself. I can’t be required to know all the inherent hazards of unnaturals.”
Sheyenne floated directly in front of him, in his face. “I’m an unnatural, Travis, whether you like it or not.”
He looked hurt. “Don’t you realize how embarrassing that is to me?”
“Sorry I came back from the dead and inconvenienced you,” Sheyenne said with bitter sarcasm. “Maybe if you’d been at my funeral you could have told me how you really felt. I forgot what a self-centered, deceitful brother you are, all the crap you’ve pulled over the years. I want you to leave and never come back. You’re dead to me.”
“Dead?” Travis bristled. “Hah! You died first. Family’s supposed to stick together, but I don’t need you anymore. You dug your own grave, now bury yourself in it! Have fun at your stupid Shakespeare play.” He slammed the door on his way out.
Chapter 45
After the bomb at the brothel, Robin’s anger toward Senator Balfour was so great it overshadowed even her loathing for Harvey Jekyll, who was now her client. That afternoon, she called Jekyll into our offices to sign some paperwork for his case.
Still shaken by the confrontation with Travis, Sheyenne kept herself distracted and busy by flitting back and forth to the courthouse filing injunctions to stop enforcement of the Act, then scheduling numerous hearings, traveling so much that I considered adding “courier service” to her already lengthy job description.
She was gone when Jekyll and his bodyguard arrived, so I had to take care of the social niceties. When I offered them beverages, Larry asked for a beer, which we didn’t keep in the office; Jekyll asked for a sparkling water, but we were out, having given the last one to Bill the golem.
Heavily caffeinated but exhausted, Robin led Jekyll into the conference room. “I am determined to get you into your house in the suburbs, Mr. Jekyll. The Patterson case establishes a precedent, and their appalling treatment from the neighbors can only sway sympathy, though it’s going to be an uphill climb, considering your track record.”
“I am no stranger to appalling treatment, and much less accustomed to sympathy,” Jekyll said. “I read your amusing treatise against Senator Balfour, by the way. It must have hurt his delicate feelings.”
“He needed to be exposed. Momentum is building against him. I can feel it. We’ll have the whole Quarter on our side. As of an hour ago, I’ve filed seventeen challenges to various provisions in the Unnatural Acts Act, and I’m just getting warmed up. I plan to keep Senator Balfour’s staff busy twenty-four hours a day. He won’t be able to move forward on any aspect of the Act without facing opposition. We’ll get it repealed—and your case will help the cause.”
“Oh, good,” Jekyll said with dripping sarcasm. “I always wanted to be a bleeding-heart crusader for unnatural rights, since the unnaturals have been so kind to me.” His small hand curled itself into a fist like the legs of a spider sprayed with insecticide. “Why do you think I’m so desperate to move out of the Quarter?”
Sheyenne flitted through the office door with stamped copies of the documents she had filed. She appeared less unsettled now, more corporeal, but when she saw Harvey Jekyll in our conference room, she grew bothered all over again. I was definitely looking forward to taking her out to the Shakespeare play and getting her away from the tempest around the offices.
Jekyll drew a deep breath, calmed himself. “Life isn’t fair, either before or after death. My psychiatrist says I should accept the situation and move on. As the song says, I will survive.” He leaned forward, his narrow shoulders hunched, his bald scalp wrinkling with enough furrows to plant weeds in. “On the other hand, I won’t lose sleep to see Senator Balfour slapped. He deserves as many headaches as he’s caused me.”
“But Balfour is one of your investors in the ectoplasmic defibrillator business,” I said.
“Oh, he’s much more than that. Balfour used to be one of my Straight Edge buddies.” He looked at us, and I admit I wasn’t surprised by the revelation. “Now he won’t give me the time of day.”
Larry furrowed his snout. “Don’t you have a watch, boss?”
Jekyll ignored him. “The senator stopped taking my calls on the basis that it’s not his policy to speak with unnaturals. The nerve! He sent me a notice that my membership in Straight Edge has been revoked. We’ll see about that!”
“I thought Straight Edge had been dissolved and disbanded,” Robin said.
“It is, for the most part, but we still have a group medical plan, and there’s an annual get-together.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe Rupert would do this. He knows who I am . . . and I know damned well what he is.”
“If he’s such a bad partner, maybe you should stop making ectoplasmic defibrillators,” I said.
“Business is business. In fact, I’m paying all my outstanding bills because he just purchased two industrial-size defibrillators. He says he needs to protect himself against ghostly backlash from the Unnatural Acts Act. My defibrillators could disintegrate an entire army of angry ghosts if they came after him.”
“Ghosts aren’t the only ones out to get him,” Sheyenne said. “Every unnatural hates his guts.”