Although I didn’t remember anything about being dead the first time, I had no wish to return to the grave. I couldn’t stand the thought of putting Robin and Sheyenne through the grieving process all over again.
Suddenly I realized that I was not, in fact, disintegrating. The fizzy blue chemical might have stained my suit, but my undead body was still functioning as well as a few minutes ago. I was too stunned to be thrilled by the fact.
Jekyll dove into his pickup and started the engine. The tires spun, kicking up mud and gravel as he accelerated. I didn’t have time to wonder why I wasn’t joining Mel in the glop brotherhood—I had to stop Jekyll from getting away.
I placed myself in the middle of the dirt road, but Jekyll didn’t hesitate. He gunned the engine and came straight at me. Being brave, or just stupid, I stood squarely in front of the truck, and the pickup knocked me flat into the mud. The truck roared over me . . . but the tires missed my body. The undercarriage passed mere millimeters above my face, and the truck roared off, slewing back out of the dump and onto the main road.
I lay sprawled on my back in the soft muck, and eventually I pried myself out of the puddle, reminded of the last time I’d crawled out of the grave. I was drenched, muddy, and humiliated, but not overly damaged.
Saddened and angry, I sloshed over to my friend’s shapeless remains that were spreading in all directions like a red-and-yellow amoeba. In my jacket pocket, the camera phone was mud-smeared but still intact. I looked for a clean swatch of fabric so I could wipe off the lens. I was going to nail Jekyll for a hell of a lot more than a divorce settlement.
On Mel’s lawn chair I saw one of his self-help books, soaked by the rain. Mel had always tried to better himself, to do his best despite his circumstances. The book was titled I’m Dead, but I’m OK. He’d made it only to Chapter two.
Poor Mel. What remained of my heart went out to him, just as when I’d seen Sheldon Fennerman staked to the brick wall of the alley.
Garbage rustled in the giant mounds surrounding his trailer, and I saw gleaming black eyes, pointed snouts, and spiky brown fur as three gargantuan rats emerged from hiding, whiskers twitching as they quested the air.
They came closer to the pile of ooze and let out plaintive squeaks. Rover, Fido, and Spot—he had named them, befriended them. These oversized rodents were misfits through no fault of their own, just as Mel had been. They looked at me now, as if expecting me to make everything better again, or at least to explain. I had nothing to say, not to giant rats, not to anyone.
I patted each creature on the head, trying to console them. “You’ll do all right here for yourselves. You’ve got all the garbage in the world as your home.”
But that didn’t help Mel.
No matter what, I had enough cold evidence for a long list of criminal charges against Harvey Jekyll. McGoo wouldn’t hesitate to take action, I knew that. He’d be perfectly happy to wrap up the prominent case of the melting unnaturals and get a gold star in his personnel file, although it would take quite a few stars to get him reassigned outside of the Quarter.
The chemical drums were still here just in front of Mel’s trailer, but I wasn’t going to touch them. I had no idea why the dissolving substance had left me intact while it had disintegrated Mel, but I didn’t intend to give the stuff a second chance.
I wasn’t going to give Harvey Jekyll a second chance either.
Chapter 39
I had visions of charging into the JLPN chemical factory with McGoo at my side, guns blazing. The two of us would rough up a few of the perpetrators, slap Harvey Jekyll in handcuffs, shut down the whole operation, and emerge as heroes to a crowd of cheering monsters.
But Robin stubbornly insisted that we do everything by the book so we’d wind up with a perfectly clean legal case that would stand up to a long and messy trial. She was a dear kid, but she could be incredibly frustrating.
After I called McGoo with the news, he rushed to our offices, eager to make the arrest. Bursting through the office door, however, he took one look at me and said, “Jeez, Shamble, you look like shit—and you smell bad too.”
“You always say that. This time there’s a reason.” I needed to change out of the chemical-soaked, mud-spattered clothes, but I’d been in too much of a hurry to clean up.
I explained what had happened at the dump. Robin had already downloaded the photos from my phone (after cleaning it as best she could) and displayed them on Sheyenne’s desktop screen.
McGoo scowled. “So Jekyll’s got some chemical that dissolves unnaturals. Then why are you still here if you were doused with the stuff?”
I looked down at the splotchy stains all over me. “Hell if I know.”
“I’m not complaining,” Sheyenne said, floating close.
“There’s enough evidence to warrant Harvey Jekyll’s immediate arrest,” Robin said. “We can get more answers from him during the prosecution.”
McGoo was angry on my behalf. “Damn right he’s going down. You want me to call in the whole force, Shamble? Or should we go in solo, just the two of us?”
“If it’s two of us, then it’s not solo.”
“You know what I mean.”
“We have to be involved,” Robin insisted. “This is our case. We broke it. Chambeaux and Deyer needs to be there during the wrap-up.”
“Miranda’s divorce settlement is our case, Robin,” I pointed out. “This is criminal activity, and the police should handle it.”
“The district attorney has more than enough evidence to get a search warrant for the JLPN factory. I’ve already been on the phone to Judge Hawkins,” Robin said. “After Officer McGoohan serves the warrant and we search the factory, we’ll find all the proof we need to send him to jail.”
“If we’re going out again, I need to change clothes,” I said. “Spooky, is there—?”
“Yes, fresh shirt and pants in your office, shoes under the desk. No jacket, I’m afraid.”
“I’ll survive.” That might not have been the appropriate thing to say. I shrugged out of my sport jacket, touched the clumsily sewn bullet holes, decided I liked them. “But I will need this one dry-cleaned.”
“I’ll take care of it tomorrow,” Sheyenne said. “Let’s get the bad guy tonight.”
I went back into my office and half-closed the door for privacy as I began peeling off mud-encrusted clothes. McGoo brought me a wet towel from the restroom. “Wipe yourself down at least. No telling what that chemical might do to you in the long run.”