Perilously Fun Fiction: A Bundle, Pauline Jones [top 100 novels of all time .txt] 📗

“Then be brave. We won’t stay long, I promise.” Dante smiled coldly.

“You won’t hurt him, will you? I couldn’t bear it—”

“Why would I want to hurt him?” He looked past her to Cain and Abel waiting impassively on either side of the door. “You ready?”

Though no unsightly bulges marred the impeccable lines of their identical suits, they both nodded.

“Then let’s do it.”

New Orleanians learn to second line early. It’s easy to do and there are no special steps to learn. One need only to be unselfconscious and have a brass band that can pump out a good Mardi Gras beat. The extras, like sequined umbrellas or a hankie to wave, are second to the joy of forming a line and going where the music leads.

They did the Mambo first. Maybe Miss Weena was saving the Hepplewhites for the grand finale. Or she could have been saving them for herself. The raucous sound of the brass band made radio communication problematical until the second line moved outside. That’s why Mickey didn’t know until he heard them speaking to Luci that Dante and his entourage had arrived.

“Who let them in?” Mickey hissed into his mike.

“Had to, sir. They had an invitation.”

“Did you search them?”

“Head to toe. Nothing.”

“Damn!” Mickey paced towards the new arrivals.

“Did you think I wouldn’t come?” Dante was saying.

“I never doubted you would.” Luci batted her lashes at Dante, then winked at Mickey as Dante bent to kiss her hand. “Let me introduce you to my aunts. They’re looking forward to meeting you.”

She slid her arm through Dante’s and led him toward them.

“Miss Theo? I’d like you to meet Mr. Dante. He’s the one I told you about—”

“Mr. Dante!” Miss Theo’s face lit up as she turned towards them. “I can’t tell you how excited I was when dear little Luci told me you were coming to our party!”

“I’m charmed, Miss Theo—” Dante began suavely.

“Hermi! Weena! Look! He’s here! Mr. Dante!”

The remaining two sisters fluttered forward, words bubbling from their mouths like sparkling water, engulfing him in their special form of femininity.

“Trifle long, but I loved your book!” Miss Hermi twittered.

“Dark, definitely a dark story, but droll, too!” Miss Weena patted his arm, her round face tilted up and cut by a wide smile.

“A most interesting book,” concluded Miss Theo. “Where did you get the idea for it? Such a large concept! Life. Death. Redemption.”

Miss Weena reached up and smoothed the hair above his ear. “It’s funny. You don’t look Italian.”

Mickey bit back his first grin of the day at the look on Dante’s face at this reference to Dante’s Inferno. The urge quickly left him when he heard a bawdy flourish heralding the imminent appearance of the Hepplewhites. There were only four, but it seemed like more as the undulating pecs and hips cut a swath through the appreciative female crowd. Most of the men fell back with something less than appreciation as the dancers started to shed clothing. Would Luci find this “cool?” Would her eyes be heated like they’d been when he kissed her?

Pryce crossed to join him, his opinion of the Hepplewhites written in large neon across his face. “Where’s Luci?”

Mickey looked around, slow at first, then with rising panic.

At that moment, in the mysterious way of the universe, there was a lull in the party sounds and the music as the Hepplewhites completed their shedding, baring their glory for the pleasure of their interested audience. Before the music and the screams could catch up, Mickey clearly heard the sound of shots in the room directly above them.

18

It was ridiculously easy for Fern to approach Luci Seymour, the small gun and the cast on her arm concealed in the folds of her loose dress and the lacy shawl she’d picked up in a little dress shop in the Quarter and paid for with one dollar bills.

“Excuse me, miss?”

Luci turned with a friendly smile.

“Is there another ladies’ room? The one down here has someone—” She grimaced slightly. With those old aunts of hers, the girl would know all about incontinence.

“Oh, of course. Upstairs—” With a gentle, but firm grip on her arm Luci eased Fern through the crowds and out into the hall. “If you go up here, take a right—”

Fern turned up the edges of her mouth in what she hoped passed for a smile and shoved the concealed gun into the girl’s side.

“Could you show me, dear?” The girl’s eyes flicked towards the guard, bored of face, rocking on his heels across from them. In a low voice, Fern warned, “Quiet, or he gets it, too!”

The girl gave her a steady look that seemed to test her resolve, so Fern ground the weapon into her ribs a little harder and said louder, “Sorry to be a bother, dear, but at my age, you can’t afford to wait too long.”

“No, I don’t suppose you can.” To Fern’s consternation, the girl’s straight mouth twitched as she turned and padded up the long staircase. Fern was puffing as they reached the top, her heart protesting the fast ascent. Behind her she could hear the opening refrain of the bawdy burlesque.

“The Hepplewhites are starting their act. And you passed them up to shoot me? You really need to work on your priorities.”

For just a moment, Fern was tempted. She’d seen their poster in one of the tee shirt shops that littered the Quarter. They were mighty fine. Hard to keep her sights fixed on Mickey Mouse with those pecs in mind.

Luci half-turned, her eyes, a mixture of hope and mischief, inviting Fern to join her. Then the door on the right opened and Donald gestured threateningly.

“What ya waiting for, Fern? Get her in here before someone comes!”

Fern pushed, but Luci didn’t budge.

“That’s Mickey’s bedroom.”

“So?”

“Well, it just seems—wrong. Or ironic.”

“Just get in there!” Being so exposed in the open hall was making Fern uneasy. Down in the hall below they could hear the sound of voices rising towards them on waves of burlesque beat.

Luci