regret—or maybe their necks had simply been damaged.
“All right, that’s it. Show’s over,” McGoo said. The zombies shambled off in opposite directions.
McGoo raised his voice, shooing the crowd away. “Nothing to see here. You all go home.”
The crowd dispersed, and McGoo let out a long sigh of relief. “Some crazy night, eh, Shamble? What is this, a full moon?”
“Full moon is tomorrow night. This is just a warm-up,” I said, then glanced at my watch. Miranda would be waiting for me. “I’ve got an appointment.”
CHAPTER 35
Miranda Jekyll had suggested meeting at Basilisk, claiming it was one of her favorite nightclubs. I doubted any Straight Edgers would set foot inside a place like that, so we’d be safe enough from any of her husband’s goons.
I felt more uneasy about having Sheyenne join me there, but she was adamant. “I’m in this with you, Beaux. I slipped into Jekyll’s study, I got the ring, I was there when you got shot—you obviously need my help.” She had given me a mischievous smile. “I’ll meet you at Basilisk.”
Sheyenne hadn’t been back to the nightclub since her death, and I was afraid the visit would be a traumatic experience, but she insisted she had to face it. She had her own reasons: The meeting with Miranda gave her an excuse to keep an eye on Ivory.
After leaving McGoo and the brawling shamblers, I headed across the Quarter to Little Transylvania, arriving at Basilisk only a few minutes late. I entered the dimly lit lounge and looked around, expecting to find Jekyll’s wife waiting for me, impatient, annoyed.
Miranda wasn’t there yet. Naturally. She hated to be on any schedule at all, and was pathologically, rather than fashionably, late. I should have known.
A semitransparent Sheyenne appeared next to me with an uncertain expression. I could practically see the flood of memories crossing her face as she looked around the nickel-appointed bar and the tables bunched close to the stage where Ivory would sing. I wanted to put my arm around her.
“This place . . .” Sheyenne said, fighting off a shudder. “Right now, I could really use a hug.”
I reached out to air-pat her arm; it was the best I could do. “It’ll be all right—I’m here. I won’t let anything else happen to you.”
“So many memories. How can I not hate this place?”
I forced a smile. “They’re not all bad memories, are they? This is where we met.”
She responded with a wistful expression. “No, not all bad, I guess. But given the choice, I’d rather still be alive.”
“So would I.”
At the bar, Fletcher Knowles gave me a cautious nod, then his eyes widened when he recognized the ghost beside me. “Sheyenne! You’re back—It’s good to see you.” He bustled out from behind the bar. “Really sorry about what happened . . . and then Dan got killed too. What a mess.” Standing awkwardly in front of us, Fletcher shook his head. “Did he tell you I was the one who found his body in the alley? Small world.” He let out a nervous chuckle. “Quite a testimonial to Basilisk, I guess—my customers keep coming back even after they’re dead.” He glanced at the still-empty stage. “Now here’s an idea—I can make it open-mic night, if you like. These people would love to hear you sing again.”
“I don’t know, Fletcher,” she said. “What would Ivory think?”
“I’m the boss. She can move over if I tell her to.”
I wasn’t convinced who would win in a shouting match between Fletcher and the big vamp diva, but Sheyenne wouldn’t change her mind anyway. Eventually, the manager backed off. “Okay, suit yourself. Can I at least buy you a drink?”
Sheyenne looked uncertain, glanced at me, then back at Fletcher. “I haven’t had one in a while. What do ghosts usually drink?”
“Oh, any sort of distilled spirits.”
“I’ll take you up on it—as long as you’re buying for Dan too.”
“No problem.”
Fletcher pulled me a beer, then poured a double bourbon and water for Sheyenne. I said, “Let’s go find a table close to the stage—if you’re ready for that.”
“Oh, I can’t wait. When that bitch starts to sing, I want to be up close, right where she can see me.” Carrying her drink, Sheyenne drifted across the room. We picked an unclaimed table up front. I looked around—still no sign of Miranda. Twenty minutes late now. I thought she would have been anxious to hear what we had found in her husband’s study....
Taking care of business, I handed Sheyenne the Zom-Be-Fresh sachet