“I honestly don’t remember,” I whispered fearfully as I prayed he wouldn’t continue his bizarre confession.
Granny was quiet. She was either contemplating Dwayne’s story or trying to come up with one that would top his. I shivered as I realized she would go to her standard fare and regale us with anecdotes from her stripping days, which could easily morph into a demonstration…I had to stop the madness before it began.
“I have to read files tonight,” I explained as I un-wedged myself. “You should take Dwayne out and show him the town—maybe go to the beach or stroll down Main Street.”
“She’s got that covered,” Dwayne squealed. “We’re going to a drag show!”
“In Hung?” I asked Granny. “There’s a drag club in Hung?”
“Three,” she replied. “And two Shifter strip clubs.”
How did I not know this? I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek. If she was still disrobing in public, I didn’t want to know. There wasn’t a therapist alive that could wipe that image out of my brain.
“Okay, um…you guys have fun, and Dwayne, if you’re going to eat you need to be discreet. We’re used to a variety of Shifters down here, but not Vamps.”
“Don’t you worry about nothin’. I’ve got his back,” Granny said. “Anyone calls him a blood sucker or homo will answer to my fist, my boot and my Taser.” With that lovely nugget she left the room to get gussied up.
“Oh my god, if I were into women, I’d marry your granny so fast.” Dwayne preened in front of the mirror.
“Um…awesome,” I gagged. “If you say anything that foul again, you’re walking back to Chicago. Tonight.”
“It would be a little weird to be your grandpa,” he mused.
“Do you do it on purpose?”
“Do what?” he asked, confused.
“Leave me with images that no amount of psychotherapy could remove? Burnt peas and rancid hummus are now seared into my brain along with you and Granny and the fact that you clearly sang in a glee club.”
“Those were difficult times, Essie. You think you have problems? Try running naked through coals while being pelted with boar’s teeth.”
Nothing. I had nothing.
“You ready, Dead Boy?” Granny asked.
Oh, hell to the no…She was dressed in a boob tube, peasant skirt and sequined kitten heels. Weres did not look their age. Granny could easily pass for mid-forties even though she was in her eighties, but a boob tube was wrong on anyone over five.
“Granny, I really don’t think you should…”
“You are smokin’ hawt,” Dwayne yelled as he fist bumped my elderly grandma.
What the hell was I thinking? He had more than two hundred years on both of us. Weird was my new normal—accept and continue.
“Okay then, try not to get arrested and be home before sunup,” I muttered and grabbed the stack of files.
“You sure you don’t wanna come? Bennett Pombell does a mean Cher,” she explained as she twisted her hair up and shoved three chopsticks into it.
Bennett Pombell was an upstanding panther Shifter with seven kids and a shrew of a wife…accept and continue. “I’m good. Got work to do.”
“Does anyone do Gaga?” Dwayne asked as they walked out the front door.
“No, maybe you should,” she suggested.
“Do you think I’d be good?” he gushed.
“You’d be wonderful. I have some wigs from my stripping days in the garage. You wanna see?” Granny asked a deliriously excited Dwayne.
“Lead on, my Queen. Lead on.”
***
The files were meticulous. I had assumed Hank was good. He was an alpha of a large and very happy Pack, but I had no clue what an amazing detective he was…not that I’d tell him. Ever.
I’d spent the better part of four hours poring over the files before Granny and Lady Gaga, aka Dwayne in full on drag, got home. Apparently Dwayne was the new star of the Hung drag circuit and Granny was now his manager. They were booked solid for the week.
After seeing a replay of Dwayne’s performance on Granny’s phone and then watching him perform the highlights in the kitchen, we went to bed. Dwayne was a truly amazing Gaga. They both made me swear on a stack of Bibles I would catch a performance this week. I promised I’d try.
Chapter 6
“You know, if you would dress up like Beyonce we could do a killer version of Telephone,” Dwayne said as he handed me a glass of fresh squeezed OJ and a blueberry muffin he had baked for breakfast.
“Why do you bake if you don’t eat?” I asked.
“It relaxes me. Are you ignoring my suggestion?”
“Yes. Yes, I am.”
I bit into the muffin and my eyes rolled back in ecstasy. My Vampyre could bake.
“I’d like you to consider my brilliant idea.”
“Dwayne, the point of drag is that men dress up as women. I am a woman with real boobs.”
“True, and your boobs are fabu. You’re hotter than hell and I’d love to see you in some gold lamé booty shorts and a sequined bra. I think it would be therapeutic for you.”
“I have about fourteen sequined bras,” Granny chimed in as she sauntered into the kitchen and grabbed a muffin. “Some of them are nipple-less, but I’m sure I have a few that would work.”
“On that note, I’m outta here,” I said. I grabbed the files and an extra muffin. “Can you two stay out of trouble?” The innocent looks on their faces set my allergic-to-bullshit radar off, but I didn’t have time to babysit them. “Just don’t get arrested,” I muttered and hurried out the door before Granny insisted I try on her sparkly brassieres.