“Mostly, we take baths in bathtubs.”
“You are sad. Is it because of this Herbert Sherbet fellow?”
Henry pasted on a smile. “Just beat.”
A girl and her fella stumbled into the bathroom. “When will these accommodations be available?” the girl slurred. Her date held her up. “I should like to make a resh… reservation.”
“I’m afraid this booth has been reserved indefinitely,” Henry said with an apologetic bow of his head.
The girl peered at him through smeary eyes. “Huh?”
“Scram!” Theta yelled.
The girl pulled up the strap of her gown with as much dignity as she could muster. “I shall complain to the management,” she said and slammed the door behind her.
“I think that’s my cue,” Henry said, pushing out of the bathtub. “Thanks for a swell party, Evie.”
“Oh, Henry! You’re not leaving yet, are you?”
“Forgive me, darlin’. I have a pressing engagement. With sleep.”
“Henry,” Theta said. Her voice carried a hint of warning. “Not too long.”
“Don’t worry.”
“Don’t worry about what?” Evie asked, swiveling her head from Henry to Theta and back again.
“Anything,” Henry said, giving a courtly bow. “Ladies, I’ll see you in my dreams.”
“What was that about?” Evie asked once Henry had gone.
“It’s nothing,” Theta answered.
“Uh-oh. I know that face. That isn’t a happy Theta face,” Evie said, sitting up so suddenly she sloshed the contents of her flask onto her dress. Theta took the flask away.
“That’s not fair,” Evie groused. “I shall report you to the authorities for the crime of gin-napping!”
“You can have it back in a sec. I got something I wanna talk about.”
Evie rolled her head left toward Theta and sighed heavily. “Oh, all right.”
“I wanna talk about what happened to us. I wanna talk about the Pentacle Killer.”
Evie pouted. “That is pos-i-tute-ly the last topic I wish to discuss.”
“You say that every time I bring it up. I know you told the papers that John Hobbes was a crazed madman. But you and me, we both know that ain’t the truth. That night, when I was trapped with Hobbes in the theater, I felt something I’d never felt before.”
“What was that?”
Theta took a deep breath and let it out. “Evil.”
“Yes?”
“Not you. I meant I felt the presence of evil.”
“Well. It’s over now,” Evie said, hoping Theta would take the hint.
“Is it?”
“Well, sure. He’s gone,” Evie said a little defiantly. “It’s all going to be the berries from now on. Nothing but blue skies. Just like the song.”
“I don’t know about that,” Theta said, leaning her head back against the cool bathroom tiles. “You still dreaming about that eye symbol?”
“No. I’m not. My dreams are pos-i-tute-ly the swellest,” Evie said, but she didn’t look at Theta when she said it.
“It just seems like something’s bubbling up. Something bad.”
Evie slung an arm around her pal’s shoulders. “Darling Theta. There’s no need to worry,” Evie said, expertly stealing her flask back from Theta. “Do you know, in the taxi on the way here, I saw a billboard for Marlowe Industries. It said ‘The future of America.’ The future is now, and we’re on the tippy-top of the world. Our best lives are waiting for us around that next bend. We just have to reach for them. Forget bad dreams. They’re just dreams. Let’s drink to the future of America. The future of us. Long may we both reign.”
Evie clinked her flask against Theta’s glass. The bathroom blurred a bit, giving it a soft glow. Evie liked it blurry.
“There’s something else I gotta ask you,” Theta said softly. “It’s about this whole Diviners business—”
“Most of them hocus-pocus phonies,” Evie warned, holding up a finger.
“What I wanna know is, you ever hear of somebody who had a power that was dangerous?”
“Whaddaya mean?” Evie asked. “Dangerous how?”
They were interrupted by a sharp pounding on the hotel room’s door, followed by a gruff voice calling, “Open up. Police.”
“Horsefeathers!” Evie launched herself from the tub, poured her gin into the mouthwash tumbler, and stumbled woozily across the room, exhorting everyone to hide their booze. She spied Sam in the corner avidly kissing the Hungarian circus performer.