Dining Off


So, for the sixth anniversary of having an independent show, Conrad took us out to dinner to mark the occasion. Really, he just needed an excuse to go to a new steakhouse.

The Cattleman was built out of logs, with movie-frontiersman decorations inside. Conrad scored us a table by the flagstone fireplace.

A real wood fire was burning there, waves of heat radiating out and across the table. I loved basking in the warmth for a while, then hiding behind his water glass to cool off.

Cher stuck to the far side of the table, getting just enough heat to be able to stand it, without having to cower or grab ice-cold glass every so often.

Conrad ignored both of us, Delli was monopolizing his attention. She was walking the menu in front of him, looking over what was on offer.

“What about this?”

“I can’t see what ‘this’ is, Delli.”

“Oh.” She moved. “Now?”

“The glazed salmon? You want fish in a steakhouse?”

Delli pursed her lower lip way out. “If ew wuvved me…”

In reply, Conrad pinched her little hips and lifted her across the menu. “I guess that’s an answer,” Cher said. Conrad glared at him, then tapped the menu, right next to Delli’s feet.

“Steak and…” she read, then shuffled her feet to finish. “Salmon. Oh! Master gets dead cow and more sophisticated palates can enjoy the poisson!”

“Saying it in French doesn’t make you more sophisticated,” Conrad said. “Just pretentious.”

“Pretentious?” Delli asked. “Moi?”

“Yeah,” Conrad muttered, turning to the beverages page. “Keep working your bilingual status into conversation, see who starts to ride around in Slurpee cup instead of a carrier.”

Delli scurried out from under the turning page, then ran back to grab his wrist. “Wuv EW!” she said.

“I know,” he smiled. He pat her back gently, then put the menu on the corner. I wandered over to the edge for more basking. The stones making up the chimney were roughly cut, and unevenly dressed. I could easily map a route from the hearthstones to the top.

“I think I could climb that,” I said.

“Mm hmm,” Conrad hummed. I turned. He was looking over the dessert card they’d given him with the menu.

“Conrad, you’re not looking!”

“Electra, I would believe you if you said you could climb up a mirror,” he said.

“Mmm hmm,” Cher nodded. I looked at him.

“Are you agreeing with Conrad or are you mocking me?” I asked.

“Lucky day,” he said. “I can do both!”

That was when the waiter brought the bread basket and took Conrad’s (and our) order.

I moseyed on over to see what was under the napkin. I could smell sourdough.

My giant boyfriend took out a slice, tore off the crust (it’s like TANK armor to little sylphs, I swear!), and buttered it. He placed that slice on the bread dish and moved it to the center of the table.

We all said thanks and dove on it.

Dinner eventually arrived, served with a spare plate at Conrad’s request. He cut the salmon fillet in half and moved it to our plate.

We dove on that, too, but not quite as violently.

I had to admit, the Cattleman knew what they were doing with fish. I complimented Delli on her choice, and we all thanked Conrad for ordering it.

He thanked us for six years of wonderful work on Electra’s Sylph Hour. Then we all raised our hands, palm out, to shush him.

He glanced in the direction we were looking, saw that there was a big-screen TV running in the bar, and sat quietly.

“News story?” he asked when we returned to the meal.

“They found that lost hiker up in the Sawtooth Mountains,” Delli said.

“Yay!” Conrad said.

“No,” Cher corrected him. “They didn’t find him… in time.”

“Oh,” Conrad’s expression saddened to match ours.

“But they found his sylph,” I said. “Magic. She’s alive.”

“Yay?” he asked softly, looking at our expressions.

“Not exactly,” Delli said. “She, uh, she…”

“She had to take steps to survive,” Cher said. Conrad looked confused. Well, you have to be clear with Conrad, he isn’t one to catch subtle.

“There was no food in the tent,” I said. “It was all in an airtight bag hanging off a tree.”

“To keep bears from attacking the tent,” he nodded. Then the penny finally dropped. “Oh. She, uh… She had to…”

“She ate him,” I said.

“No one’s going to want her, now,” Cher said.

“No,” Conrad said. “No, that’s not right. Any sylph that’s been in the headlines, their price goes up. No matter what they’re famous, or infamous for.” He glanced in the direction of the TV, though they were now discussing the weather for an upcoming golf tournament.

“But… She ate her owner!” Delli protested.

“Yeah, and notoriety is worth another ten grand. Whoever inherits this guy’s estate just came into a whole lot of money.”

“CONRAD!” I shrieked. People at three whole tables turned towards us. I quieted quickly. “Dammit,” I stage-whispered. “She just had a very traumatic experience! Don’t you think it’s a little soon to be discussing her market value?”

“I’m just saying,” he said softly, “that she’s not going to be institutionalized, not abandoned in the system like a cage fighter or a rescue sylph that’s too broken to help.”

We all looked from face to face, mutually deciding to be mollified by his explanation. It still seemed a little mercenary, but he was right. Magic’s prospects were a bit better than they might have been.

I just decided we’d be following this story pretty closely.

-----

Turned out, Conrad was and wasn’t right.

Marcus Lawson had no wife or children, but his one nephew was quite interested in obtaining Magic.

Darren Lawson flew to Boise to take possession, where he was interviewed by the news. All they showed of that conversation was his report that ‘many’ collectors had contacted him with offers for Magic.

“It’s really amazing what people think she’s worth!” he said.

Problem was, Magic WAS institutionalized. After the interview with the nephew, they showed the sheriff.

Sheriff Tolliver looked unhappy, but unapologetic, as he explained Magic’s status.

“It is the law in Idaho, pets that eat human flesh have to be put down.” A whole raft of hands went up as the press started firing questions at him. He raised his hands to quiet them down. “I realize that the law was written long before there were any sylphs… Or undines, I guess. But that is the law. It’s not the place of this office to choose which laws to enforce.

“The state Attorney General has directed us to put Magic down in accordance with the statute. Mr. Lawson has contacted a lawyer, who has gotten a judge to issue a stay. So she’ll be kept in our jail until the legal matters are resolved.”

I turned around on the table to get Conrad’s attention. “We need to find out who Magic’s lawyer is!”

He was already selecting a number on his phone. “More to the point, we’ll have OUR lawyer find out who Lawson’s lawyer is.” He listened as it rang. “And of course, wait for the Anthonys to call. Hey, Howard! Have you been paying any attention to this Darren Lawson case?”

-----

The sheriff referred all inquiries about Magic’s case to the AG’s office. They wouldn’t return any of our calls.

“What are they hiding?” I asked after yet another hour passed after yet another request for a meeting.

“The AG isn’t exactly a Humans Firster,” Conrad said. “But he does appear to be more sympathetic to them than to sylphs.” He spun around in his chair. He claims it helps him think. I’m pretty sure he only HAS an office so he can have a chair to spin around in.

I watched from the safety of his desk. He also tilts back and forth while he spins, making it a vomit-raising ride for anyone in his pocket or on his shoulder.

Suddenly he stopped, staring out the window. “Maybe we’re going about this the wrong way.”

“What way is that?” I asked.

“You. The show. The sylph issue. They’re not letting anyone in to see Magic. But they’re not letting YOU in to see the AG.” He reached over my head for his phone book.

-----

Conrad’s got a few cousins in the Boise area. One of them was a law student. Trixie was actually doing a paper on the legal aspects of sylphs and readily agreed to try to get into the AG’s office.

The fact that her fee for lawyering on our behalf was another visit to The Cattleman may have had some bearing on her willingness.

They sat us down at a different table, over by the window with a stunning view of the parking lot. But the sourdough was still oven-warm, so all was forgiven.

Conrad made introductions and Trixie shook fingers with all of us sylphs.

Both humans made quick work of the menu. Conrad got the same thing as last time, Trixie was just quick and decisive, as usual.

They ordered and we were alone. Just us sylphs, humans, butter and bread.

We ate idly as Trixie gave us the rundown. “Okay, the AG is, as Grandpa Loudon used to say, a real piece of work. He’s not sympathetic to Humans First. He just doesn’t want to offend them.”

“Are they a political power in the state?” I asked. “I mean, I assume he has ambitions beyond his current office?”

“Exactly,” she said, giving me a nod. And not a condescending one. “Word on the street is that he wants to run for Senate. And he wants to run on a ‘law and order’ platform.”

“Because Idaho needs more lawfulness,” Conrad muttered, “what with the chaos in the streets and buffalo stampedes in our once-proud schools.”

Trixie stared at my owner. Trixie and he had vastly different definitions of the word ‘humor.’ “Anyway?” I asked. “Magic’s case?”

“Yeah,” she said slowly, then shook her head. “Yeah, the sylphs are an easy group to exploit. They have no rights, which is why Magic has no lawyer. Her only rights, like any other pet’s, depend from her owner.”

Her gaze swept the three of us on Conrad’s bread plate. “Sorry.”

“Not your fault,” Cher said.

“Yeah, humans just suck,” Delli observed. Conrad reached a finger over to poke her hip gently. “I mean, as a group,” she amended. “Present company mostly excluded.”

“Mostly,” Conrad echoed with a smile. “That means you’re okay, I’m the one who won’t buy her a chinchilla.”

“Not -A- chinchilla!” Delli protested. “You won’t buy me chinchilla! A fur coat! I think I deserve chinchilla!”

“Anyway,” Trixie said, smiling at the little sylph’s complaints. Silly human thought my friend was joking… “After talking with him, I don’t think he gives a rat’s ass about Magic or the recently departed owner, as long as he doesn’t come out of this looking soft on crime.”

“Okay… Thanks,” I said.

“Anytime,” she said, taking a slice of bread for herself. She sniffed the aroma deeply. “And I do mean, any time.”

-----

We still couldn’t get to see Magic, so I sent Conrad to talk to her owner. Well, I say ‘sent.’ I suggested that after sixteen years of watching me do interviews, he knew enough to talk to Darren.

And I sat in his pocket, to give him tips if they were necessary.

Darren was staying in the Car Go By motel out by the airport exit. He met us at the door and waved Conrad to a plastic seat at the card table.

Conrad sat and looked around the room. “Okay, first off, we could probably get you into the Oxford Suites downtown.”

“Oh, I don’t need luxury,” Darren assured him. He took the other chair. “I’m just here until Uncle Marcus’ estate is settled.”

I could practically feel Conrad’s eyes narrow as he sized Darren up. “Our studio has a budget for putting up guests of the show,” he said. “If we could interview Magic when this is over, we’d pay for the room.”

“Oh!” Darren’s eyes lit up. “Well, being downtown would be more convenient… To the AG’s office and the lawyer’s and… Well, yeah, I’d agree to an interview.”

“Sure,” Conrad said. He dialed the office and told Lisa to print up a contract and make the usual reservations. “I’ll give Mr. Lawson a ride to the office in about an hour.” He hung up and told Darren we’d sign the interview contract and then he’d get a ride to the hotel.

We almost never made guests sign a contract before we gave them a room key. I thought we’d been darn lucky that hadn’t come back to bite us, but now I realized Conrad had not been blindly trusting.

He was pretty astute as a judge of character, for all that he feared math, grammar, and Clue.

We’d been wanting to talk about Magic. How she came to be Marcus’ pet, why he took her into the wild, what his lawyer was saying about her case.

Darren only wanted to talk about the various offers to buy her. “I mean, I know the standard for a sexy, house-trained female sylph is $30,000. But I’m getting offers of ninety to one hundred grand!”

“Have you ever met Magic?” Conrad asked.

“I’ve said hi at a few reunions,” he said, waving that off as insignificant. “Marcus never wanted to discuss her market value. And that was before she was in the headlines. Now, man, I even have one offer for her body, if she does end up getting put down.”

I sank down deep into Conrad’s pocket. This was going beyond creepy. I couldn’t help but think of how the collector would display her remains. Freeze dried and posed? Or floating in a Mason jar?

I lost track of the conversation going on above me, trying to drive those images out of my head.

Suddenly I felt a spike of irritation from Conrad’s emotions. I knelt in the pocket and peeked out.

“That’s only if the state releases her to your custody and you can make the sale,” Conrad said.

“Well, yeah…” Darren agreed.

“And that’ll be before lawyer costs and court costs.”

“Yeah…” Darren was clearly wondering where Conrad was going with this. So was I.

“But I will buy her from you for forty thousand dollars, right here, right now.” He paused. “Well, in about an hour, at my office. I’ll write a check. You can settle up with your lawyer and be on your way.”

“Forty?” Darren snorted. “But that’s not even half…!”

“Yes,” Conrad said. “If the state releases Magic, you could get a lot more. But if they don’t, you could get nothing. You know the law forces them to cremate animals that are destroyed, right?”

“Cremate!?” He sounded surprised. I would have sounded gleeful. No formaldehyde.

“Call your lawyer,” Conrad said. He leaned back, radiating confidence. It seemed like a good deal from Darren’s viewpoint. A bird in the hand and all that.

I knew we had the money. Or Conrad did. Part of his fear of math was a phobia about loans. He never quite understood how interest worked, and remained suspicious about escrow.

He woke up some nights, absolutely terrified that he’d missed a house payment. He would be certain that people were going to show up at sunrise and kick us to the curb.

He saved up money for each major purchase. He’d written a single check for every car we’d ever owned, as well as washers, dryers, stoves, the Set, Cher’s Christmas workout set, Delli’s birthday Chinchilla (don’t tell her!). And for Delli and Cher, now that I think about it.

This would put a delay in replacing the Tantive-IV, but I figured we could live with that.

Hopefully Magic would live with that, too.

----

An hour after the deed was transferred, Lisa had driven Darren to the airport. Conrad was on the phone to our lawyer. Howard was not impressed with the purchase of Magic, calling it an emotional whim, not a responsible act. It certainly couldn’t be counted as an investment.

Conrad wasn’t arguing. “Yep,” he kept saying. He wasn’t just humoring the man, he was quite comfortable with irresponsible whims.

Cher and Delli sat by me on the desk, listening in as our lovable owner was dressed down by his legal counsel.

“After that outlay,” Cher asked, “how’s he going to pay Magic’s legal bills?”

“The studio will pay for that,” I said.

“Is that legal?” Delli asked.

“Helping sylphs in need is part of our purpose,” I assured her. “He’ll just have to run it past the board of directors.”

“We have a board of directors?” Delli asked.

“Sure. Wade, Julie, Chip and Chrissy.”

“Who’s the chairman?” Cher asked.

“Mom,” I said, using my ‘obvious even to Conrad’ tone of voice.

Just then, Glenda ran into the office and turned on the TV.

The AG was walking into a press conference. “I’m going to have to call you back, Howard, the plot is developing.” Conrad hung up and we all watched the TV.

It turned out, the judge had just issued his ruling.

It was the opinion of the court that the purpose in putting an animal down was that they couldn’t unlearn the idea that human flesh was proper food.

This did not apply to a sylph, who could understand death and the sanctity of human remains. It was strictly a matter of desperation, not like she’d begin roaming the streets of fair Gotham, marauding for human flesh.

Or, you know, words to that effect.

The AG’s statement hit the high points of the ruling (nothing about Gotham or marauding, of course). We all cheered. Well, everyone in the office except Conrad. He was tense, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

It dropped.

The AG announced that since the judge’s decision revolved around the sylph’s intellectual capacity to know that eating people was wrong, he was not going to appeal the ruling. And just when I thought that was good news, he went on.

“Rather,” he said, “Under Idaho state law, Title 18, Chapter 50, Article 18-5003, the sylph will be charged with cannibalism. If found guilty in a court of law, she can be imprisoned for up to fourteen years in the state penitentiary.”

“Oh, no,” Delli moaned.

“It’s not over yet,” Cher told her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

I turned to Conrad, hoping for some commiseration. To my surprise he was smiling. “Idiot,” he said.

“Who? Darren?” I asked, confused.

“What? Oh, no, he’ll probably think he dodged a bullet on this deal. No, the AG? He’s really put his foot in it.”

“What? How?” I demanded.

“Trust me,” he said.

“Implicitly,” I replied. “Now tell me how he’s an idiot!”

“Yeah, what are you talking about?” Cher asked.

“I don’t want to jinx it,” he said. He lifted his hand, fingers crossed.

“Oh,” I said, turning to Cher and Delli. “He’s going with the emotional irresponsible whim thing again.”

“It did work out so far,” Delli said slowly.

So he kept his cards hidden. Lousy, smug bastard that he was.

We sat and listened as he filed a formal appeal through the board of directors to fund Magic’s legal defense. Mom said of course. And “I assume this is a formality?”

“Just dotting the t’s and crossing the i’s,” he told her.

“Don’t do that, you make Electra queasy,” she told him.

“Oh, come on,” he protested. “I haven’t made her want to vomit for...” He glanced up at the wall calendar. “Hours.”

He put the handset down so we could talk with the TV trio for a minute. He left the room while we visited with our step-siblings.

When we were done, he came back in and hung up the handset. “Okay, shopping list,” he said, taking up a pen and paper.

“For…?” Delli asked.

“For visiting Magic,” he said, imitating my ‘obvious even to Conrad’ tone. I hate it when he does that. “She’s been charged with a crime. That makes her a prisoner. She can be visited by family and her lawyer. Howard will meet us at the jail tomorrow morning at 09:00.”

-----

Sheriff Tolliver himself met us at the jail lobby. He recognized Conrad and gestured at the carrier. “I have not approved any interviews with the sylph.”

Conrad handed over the bill of sale. “I’m her owner. I want to meet her and tell her. I also want to introduce her to the other sylphs I own.

“If possible, I’d like to give her a bath and wash her hair. Figure you probably don’t have secure facilities for sylphs in here.

“And I also assume you don’t have any prison outfits in her size?”

Tolliver sounded defensive when he started to say, “The cost of a set of custom-“

“Not a problem,” Conrad said. He tapped the carrier. Delli reached out the window, dangling an orange jump suit from each hand. “If it’s okay with you?”

Tolliver nodded. Conrad thanked him. “When this visit is over, we’ll formally contact your office to try to arrange an on-screen interview. I’m willing to keep that separate from being her owner and paying for her lawyer.”

Tolliver nodded again. “Okay, Mr. Loudon, I think we can work together.” He nodded to a deputy and they started processing us for entry to a visiting room.

Howard stepped up to have his briefcase searched. “Why did you even bring me here?”

“To pronounce the big words,” Conrad said. Howard laughed. Silly human, he thought my friend was joking.

They held our carrier at the front desk. We were allowed to take soap, shampoo, the thermos of hot water, the tub, the clothes, the towels… No cameras, no phones, nothing that could be a weapon or an escape tool.

Exactly how she was going to dig through a foot of concrete with an hors d’oeuvres fork was beyond me, but there you go.

We sat on the table and waited.

They brought her out in a rusty fishing tackle box.

We waited as they opened it and lifted her out.

She blinked at the light, looking us over. We waited as she adjusted.

Magic was naked, as we’d expected. Her hair was tangled, and she’d been crying. Again, not a big surprise.

She was a redhead, a little older than me. That might have been the weathering of her features, though, she’d been exposed to the elements quite a bit.

She looked scared and confused. Sylphs don’t get a lot of attention from bureaucracies, we’d found. There was a good chance no one had spoken directly to her besides get into the box, get out of the box, and maybe stop screaming.

“Who are you?” she finally asked.

Conrad leaned down. “I’m Conrad Loudon. I bought you from Marcus’ nephew, Darren. He inherited your owner’s estate.”

“You own me?” He nodded. “Why?”

Conrad shrugged. “Because I thought you needed a friend more than Darren needed an auction.” He gestured to the three of us. “These are my other sylphs, Electra, Cher and Ghirardelli.”

“I know who you are,” she said to me. “I’m sorry, but we don’t… We didn’t watch much television.”

“That’s okay!” I assured her. I grabbed Delli’s elbow. “We brought clothes!”

“And a bath,” Cher said. “You want a bath before you put clothes on?”

“Wha- I… I can’t…” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Please?”

They gave us a huge washbasin to bathe her in. There was no chair so Conrad held her in the water while Cher and Delli fussed over her.

And they can fuss professionally. She was washed, her hair was cleaned and conditioned, her nails trimmed, and I helped towel her dry.

We, all of us, ignored any and all tears during this time.

Finally she was dressed in a jump suit (that had been searched four times on the way in) and seated on the cup from the thermos.

We sat around her on folded towels. She kept stroking her sleeve. “Is this for the interview?”

“Only if you want it,” Conrad said. “We’re leaving that and three others here with you.”

There was a moment of silence, everyone looking at each other. “What do you want?” Magic asked.

Howard had sat through the spa treatment without comment. He leaned forward and introduced himself. “I’m your lawyer, can you tell me what happened?”

“My… I need a lawyer?” She looked shocked. “I thought… They made it sound like I needed a confessor?”

Howard brought her up to date on her status. The judge’s decision on the AG’s first course of action, then his response to the decision.

“That’s actually a law?” she asked. “I thought it was just, you know, taboo.”

“Idaho is one of the few states that actually legislated it. I believe the goal was to also legislate that it wasn’t a crime if it was done… “ He glanced at a note on his legal pad. “Under extreme life-threatening conditions as the only apparent means of survival.”

“It was!” Magic said. “I had to! He TOLD me to!”

“And we just have to convince a jury of that,” Howard assured her.

Conrad stroked her hair with a finger. “If it comes to trial,” he said.

“Why wouldn’t it?” Cher asked.

“I-“ he started.

“Don’t want to jinx it,” Delli, Howard and I said together, in varying degrees of exasperation. Magic looked confused.

“Don’t worry,” I assured her. “This is normal for us.”

“So, if you could tell us what happened?” Howard reminded her.

“Um, okay, well.” She started, then stopped, wringing her hands.

“Why Magic?” Conrad asked.

“Oh!” She went for the talking point like a trout hitting a fly. “I sylphed while I was skiing at the Magic Mountain ski resort. One minute I’m doing a turn at the top of the slope, then I’m naked, holding the back of one boot, going straight down the mountain!”

“Oh, God!” Delli said.

“Marcus caught my ski. And caught me. And saved me from frostbite.” She looked wistful for a moment in memory. “And he’s protected me ever since.” She shook her head. “I mean, he had been… Protecting.”

“So he took you out into the wild?” Cher asked her.

“He promised me I wouldn’t have to stop living life on my terms,” she said. “I went everywhere with him. Skiing, canoeing, hiking…”

“All the stuff Conrad hates,” I said, teasing him a little bit.

“I can’t promise skiing,” he said slowly, “but we can go to, like, the park? Picnics?”

“Yes, sir,” Magic said with a smile. “I’ll take whatever I can get.”

“And on that trip…?” Howard pressed, but gently.

“Oh. He, uh, Marcus had a heart attack.” She paused again. Delli and I scurried to move over to sit beside her, each of us grabbing a hand.

“I couldn’t DO anything!” she cried. “I had to stand there, watching. Watching my best friend. Die.” She squeezed my hand. I felt Conrad reach over to touch her back. Just a touch, a fingertip. To remind her she wasn’t alone. Like Delli and I were doing.

Cher reached over to put a hand against her knee.

Howard didn’t touch her, but I’m not sure there was any room for him to do so if he’d wanted to.

“I mean, we knew the phone wasn’t working. He just grabbed his chest and fell down and… And…”

We waited patiently for her to go on. Even Howard waited. She swallowed and took a deep breath.

“He said… He said they wouldn’t look for me for a few days. And then it’d take a week to find me. I told him to shut up and breathe. He… He said he wasn’t going to make it.”

“And his last thought was of you,” Conrad said. “For your sake.”

“That’s a friend,” Cher said.

“Yeah,” she smiled through the tears. “Protecting me, to the end. The bitter, fucking end.” She let go of me to wipe her eyes. “He told me to… To do what I had to. To survive the week.” She barked a brief, bitter laugh. “His last words, ‘Not the face!’ just like…”

“Blazing Saddles!” Conrad identified.

“Yes!” Magic cried, looking up at the human. “That was his favorite movie!”

“We own it,” Conrad said. “We can watch it on Marcus’ birthday. If you’d like.”

“I’d… I’d like that.” She turned to nuzzle her face against Conrad’s knuckle in gratitude. Not even a moment of worry that she might not be with us on that day. Conrad’s confidence was contagious.

“So, anyway, I… Not the face. I didn’t. I ate his… I mean, I cut from his…” She let go of Delli to gesture at her own right forearm.

She insisted that her owner had encouraged her to eat him once he was dead. Howard assured her that it was a textbook case of ‘the only apparent means of survival,’ even without any corroboration of the deceased’s acquiescence. Without pausing, he turned to Conrad and defined acquiescence.

So we made plans to visit again, just as the guard told us to wrap it up.

He gently put Magic back in the tackle box and bore her away.

Conrad gave his other sylphs a moment to collect ourselves. It was a bit emotional, having to leave her there, carried off in her dark, rusty box. I hated that.

“We have to fix this,” I told Conrad. He nodded. Howard, quite used to the way this sylph gave orders up to her owner, nodded as well.

“This is a clear case,” he warned us, “but it may take a while to convince everyone of that.” Conrad just winked.

“God DAMMIT!” Cher lost it. “Will you just TELL us what it is you’re not jinxing?”

“A hint?” I begged.

In reply the sonnuva bitch just looked at his watch. “Soon enough,” he promised.

Howard turned to us and slowly, methodically, rolled his eyes in solidarity.



-----
Index

147. Undining

149. Dinging Off