"Why do you need to talk to Knox?" Kassidy asked.
"Because, he might know something more about... what happened," Genie said carefully, as she watched her little sister search through her desk, looking for the activist's address.
After speaking with the witness and getting turned away by Baron Charm's butler (what was going on there?), Genie had come to the conclusion that talking to Knox Greenburg was the next clear step. She just hoped the late Shannon Charm's boyfriend really did know something that would help her unravel the mystery around her murder.
"Found it," Kassidy said triumphantly, handing Genie a Speak for the Trees pamphlet with several phone numbers and addresses written on the back. "Can I go with you?"
"No," Genie said with a smile. "And, before you say anything, first, you've got school and, second, mom would blow her stack if I took you with me while I investigate this."
"Fine," Kassidy pouted as only a teen can, making it clear it was anything but fine.
God, was I ever that young? Genie wondered silently. Out loud she said, "I'll call you when I've spoken to Knox and let you know what we find out."
"Don't worry, Kassidy," Jenny put in. "You sister is a totally fearless reporter. She'll get to the bottom of this."
"I know," Kassidy sighed, leading them out of her room. "I just want to... oh crap. Stop. Stop. Quiet."
Startled, Genie rocked to a halt. A quick look around the second floor landing was enough to notice her mother, reason enough to be very still and quiet. Coming up the stairs, she saw Stephens escorting a thin, bald man in a black suit and hat.
"That guy creeps me out," Kassidy whispered.
"Who is he?" Genie asked in hushed tones. "Has he been bothering you?" she added, remembering how some of her father's campaign contributors would leer and paw at her.
"Mr. Hand," Kassidy answered. "He works for Representative Friend, I think. He's been meeting with mom a lot lately... something about money or investments or something... and no, he hasn't done anything like you're thinking. It's just..."
As Kassidy spoke, Luna had already passing through the doors that led into her private office but Mr. Hand paused, turning. His eyes, hidden behind black shades, swept across the landing.
"Just when he looks at me," Kassidy shivered. "It feels like..."
"... worms crawling through my brain," Jenny hissed, her face twisted in revulsion. To be fair, Genie thought, Jenny has had issues with bald men in suits ever since she made the mistake of dating Uncle Max, the gangster.
Looking across at the man in black, Genie didn't feel anything. At the same time, she'd not-seen ghosts before. Ghosts she knew had been there anyway. Ghosts she knew Jenny could see plainly. She didn't know who, or what, Mr. Hand might be, but as he turned away to follow her mother, Genie resolved to find out. Because I needed another mystery, she thought.
-----------------
The train had rocked quietly under them for hours, following the twisting bends and steep climbs through the foothills of the Granite Mountains. Even with the speed and efficiency of Windslar's rail system, it was a long trip from Windenburg to Evergreen Harbor.
"You know, I've never been to Evergreen Harbor," Jenny said as the train finally pulled into their destination.
Genie knew Jenny was still a little annoyed about being left out last time.
Closing her eyes, Genie could remember it clearly. Confronting her Uncle Max outside the dingy looking house in a dingy looking neighborhood. They'd lured the gangster and his minions there using the strange magic Etta Blackwood had insisted wasn't real magic. "Just hedge magic," the former witch had insisted.
Whatever kind of magic it had been, it had convinced Uncle Max that Miranda and Mariah were hiding in that dingy house. Convinced him to come to their trap and not to whatever house Genie's friends were really hiding in.
She still didn't know where they actually were.
Most of all, she remembered Uncle Max's gun. The cold, dark metal of it and the gaping cavernous barrel, aimed lethally toward its target. The person Max Villareal had considered the most dangerous to him - Etta Blackwood.
Strangely enough, Genie didn't really remember the pain of getting shot. She didn't even remember making the decision to step between Etta and the gun. Maybe she'd just done it without really thinking about it.
Her arm still ached, where the bullet had torn through her.
She'd survived, obviously. Etta had survived. Miranda and Mariah were safe, wherever they were. Uncle Max had escaped, but that didn't really matter. She'd deal with him, eventually. Her uncle. The gangster.
She remembered a time when she hadn't know her family included some of the Republic's most notorious gangsters. When she hadn't known her mother, who had never been easy to live with, was actually in league with dangerous people. When she hadn't known how deeply her father's corruption ran.
A time when she hadn't know that, in the shadows behind all that, lurked things even more terrifying - vampires, werewolves and witches.
A time before she'd become friends with Miranda Goth.
If it wasn't for Miranda, she wouldn't know any of this.
She'd asked her dear friend Aadi once, if they thought being friends with Miranda was worth it.
"Girlfriend, let me tell you something," the blue-haired, gay, non-binary artist had smiled in their fabulous and strangely wise way. "The monster was always under the bed. You just couldn't see it. So, you could pretend it wasn't there. That was a lie. Lies are easy. They're comfortable and that makes you think they're safe... but they're not, because the truth is always there. Between the comfortable lie and the scary truth, I choose the truth."
-----------------
"The San My Herald, you say," Mrs. Greenburg asked. "What do you want with my boy?"
A trip to Knox Greenburg's address, and some questions to the neighbors, had led Genie and Jenny to a nearby community garden and finally to his polite but clearly formidable mother.
"I'm hoping to interview him for a story that I'm working on," Genie replied. It wasn't strictly a lie. In fact, she was pretty sure there was a story here that her editor would be interested in, if she could just unravel it.
"Wouldn't be the first time," Mrs. Greenburg said, clearly considering. "Of course, last time that reporter took everything Knox said out of context and misquoted him on top of that. My boy might be a bit hot-headed but he's no 'eco-terrorist.'"
"It's not my intension to paint anyone in a bad light or get Knox into any trouble, ma'am," Genie said. Unless he happens to be a trained covert ops assassin who repeatedly stabbed his girlfriend, she added to herself. Then all bets are off.
"He might not feel like talking to you," Mrs. Greenburg said. "I assume you know he's suffered a tragedy?"
"I do, ma'am," Genie said, deciding honesty was the best policy here. "I am hoping to speak with him about that, but I don't want to make him uncomfortable or upset. I'm trying to find answers."
"That's what I thought," Mrs. Greenburg snorted. "The news reports I've read just want to sweep it aside, as if that poor girl's death didn't matter to anyone."
"I know, ma'am," Genie said. "I intend to change that."
"Is that so?" Mrs. Greenburg continued to consider for a moment, then arrived at her decision. "Well, if Knox isn't at work... and he won't be this time of the evening... you're likely to find him at the Caboose with his friends. That's a bar on the waterfront. Mind you keep what he says in its proper context."
"I will," Genie nodded. "Thank you."
"She seemed nice, in that slightly scary hippy kind of way," Jenny said as they walked toward the former train station turned bar.
"You know 'slightly scary' and 'hippy' don't really go together in my head," Genie replied.
"That's because you've never met my mother," Jenny laughed. "She's a very sweet lady, until you cross her... then you better be prepared for a fight."
"I'll take 'scary hippy' over my mother any day," Genie said. "You know, you never talk about your parents? Why is that?"
"No comment," Jenny said, flashing what Genie recognized as her dazzling paparazzi smile. She decided not to press the issue. If there was one thing Genie understood, it was parent issues.
-----------------
"So, if you're done signing autographs and taking selfies with your legions of fans," Genie said a short while later.
"Oh, it was one fan," Jenny said, unable to hide her pleased smile.
"The bartender said Knox and his friends usually hang out back here," Genie chuckled, leading the way into the bar's back room. "We're looking for a guy in a red hat and vest. He shouldn't be too... Oh. My. God!"
"What? I... You!" Jenny's jaw dropped.
"Etta!?" Genie gasped.
"Genie?" Etta gasped, looking up. "Tenebrae Externae! What are you doing here?"
"Looking for Knox Greenburg," Genie said, pointing over at the man in the red cap and vest sitting on the couch between Demarco and a red-head she'd never met. "What are you doing here?"
"Talking to my friend, Knox Greenburg," Demarco put in, deadpan, as Etta leapt to her feet and rushed over to Genie.
"It's good to see you," Etta smiled. "Is your arm OK? It hasn't been bothering you."
"My arm's fine," Genie said, pulling the usually reserved blonde woman into a hug.
"So, you guys know each other," Knox said.
"Yeah, we met about a month ago," Demarco said as Etta reclaimed her seat. "It's kind of a long story."
"You don't seem to have any other kind anymore," Knox observed.
"Anyway, Genie here is, among other things, a reporter," Demarco said. "I expect she has some questions for you, Knox."
"Oh, well, I guess that's OK," Knox said.
"Are you sure? I don't mean to intrude but, yeah, I was hoping to ask you some..." Genie started.
"Hey guys," Mandy called out. "Sorry we're late. I was..."
"Madonna!" Mary gasped.
"Genie? Jenny?" Mandy stammered. "Claudette!?"
"So, you guys know each other, too," Knox blinked.
"It's kind of a long story," Etta groaned softly.
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