for the Smile Syndicate. I wondered if you had any comment on that?”
Her expression remained stony beneath her bright yellow mop of hair. “The Smile Syndicate is about to open a line of gift shops, and we obtain product from numerous vendors. That inventory comes from private contractors, and we have no idea where or how the items are made.” Missy rattled off the explanation so rapidly and cleanly that she must have rehearsed it in front of a mirror.
“And you’re not at least surprised to hear it?” I asked. “Not sympathetic to the plight of downtrodden golems?”
She found a speck of lint on her white blazer, plucked it off, and held it between two fingers. She extended her hand toward Angela, who scrambled from behind the desk, relieved her boss of the offending lint, and deposited it in a trash can beside her desk.
Missy turned back to me. “Would you rather we bought our souvenir items from child-labor organizations in Third World countries?”
“Are those the only two options?” I asked.
“Mr. Chambeaux, the Smile Syndicate sees great commercial potential in the Unnatural Quarter. We have followed all appropriate laws and ordinances, and we hope to be good neighbors as well as equal-opportunity employers to our monster friends. Angela, please give Mr. Chambeaux a coupon for a free appetizer at the Goblin Tavern, valid once we reopen it as a family-friendly establishment.”
As Angela rummaged in the top drawer of her desk, I said, “Thanks, but no thanks. The place just won’t be the same. You’re already letting our favorite human bartender go.”
“Marketing feels that a monster bartender will better fit the needs of the customers,” Missy said. I doubted she knew that Ilgar the original goblin owner had already tried that with a succession of unnaturals, but Francine was the only bartender who had lasted more than a week.
But I’d had enough fun for today. I had accomplished my intent: I’d met Missy Goodfellow, sized her up, seen the place. I doubted the company would make any sloppy legal mistakes, but sooner or later I was sure one of my cases would point back to them.
As I left Smile HQ, Angela called after me in a chilly voice, “I hope your day is a sunny one.”
CHAPTER 14
Sheyenne’s brother graced us with another visit. My excitement was immeasurable because devices had not yet been invented to detect such minute amounts.
Travis had found lodgings, or at least found somebody to let him use a shower; he was freshly washed, his hair still wet and slicked back, his cheeks smooth from a close shave. Even I could smell the liberal amount of cologne he had applied. Robin, who did not have a deadened sense of smell like mine, wrinkled her nose, but tried to be pleasant.
Travis had brought doughnuts as a gesture of goodwill, but Sheyenne wasn’t impressed. “I’d rather you paid back the money you stole from me. What am I going to do with doughnuts? I’m a ghost.”
He turned to Robin and me, grinning. “I thought maybe your office mates would enjoy them.”
“I can’t taste much anymore,” I said.
“Too much fat and processed sugar,” Robin said.
Travis took a jelly doughnut for himself and enjoyed the treat, making a powdery mess everywhere.
Sheyenne busied herself brewing a fresh pot of coffee, using a new urn that Robin had picked up from a normal thrift store, since my negotiations with the gremlin pawnbroker had been unsuccessful.
“Remember when we used to go out for Halloween, sis?” Travis was good at that charming-and-disarming thing, but Sheyenne had obviously had a lifetime of seeing it all before. “How about when you were in eighth grade, the last year we went trick-or-treating together? I dressed up as a hobo, rubbed coffee grounds all over my face, took some old clothes, and you . . . you were an Arabian princess, right?”
“That year I was a witch,” she said. The coffee started brewing. Her voice was wistful. “Pointy hat and all, and a magic wand with a star on the end.” She caught herself and her voice grew hard again. “We were just kids, of course. So innocent. In fact, the whole world was innocent.” As if against her better judgment, Sheyenne gave a wan smile and offered a memory of her own. “Remember when you were about to get beaten up in the fifth grade?”
Travis frowned. “I was always getting beaten up in fifth grade.”
“Not when I was around. I took care of it, and I took care of