“Help! Get away from me!” The man didn’t get any sympathy.
“Look at that. Black spray paint.” The crowd was getting agitated.
“We should call the cops.”
“No, man, I got a little somethin’ in my pocket.”
“Cops? I’m outta here.”
“He was gonna deface that beautiful painting.” Deface. Obviously a college student.
“Not as beautiful as you, angel face. We get the dressing room next.” Horny college student. I pushed my way to the man’s side. Several people hurried out the door. That pesky cop rumor. I ripped the glasses off the man’s face and took the paint can from the woman still sitting proudly on his chest. Her friend was taking her picture with her cell phone.
“Dave’s never going to believe what we did at the state library convention. I told you we couldn ’t just go to bed after that reception, Pam.”
Oops. Not PTA. Two renegade librarians.
“This dog’s not going to bite me, is he?” Pam glanced at Valdez uneasily.
Valdez stopped growling long enough to lick her cheek.
“Guess not.”
Will stepped on the man’s zipper again when he started to move. Another yelp.
“Good dog.” Pam grinned and threw her arms around both dogs. “Get a picture of this, Sharon.”
I locked eyes with the art critic and saw fear and Westwood. I put him under the whammy and reached out to help Pam up.
“Thank you so much. Wow. You really saved our mural. As for you . . .” I leaned down and got in the man’s face. “Get out of here and don’t come back.” I sent him a mental message that had him pale and shaking. Something about ripping off body parts. Will growled at the guy’s zipper, just in case the fool was unclear on what body part came off first.
“I ever see you here again, I’ll press charges.” Don’t ask me what charges. Intent to deface, maybe. But my carrying customers weren’t the only ones who wanted to avoid law enforcement. The dogs backed off while the man got shakily to his feet and staggered to the door. My growling dogs provided an escort.
The crowd booed.
“She’s lettin’ him off easy. And he’s movin’ like some freakin’ zombie. Me, I’d run like hell.”
“Forget him. The dressing room’s empty.” A couple, pale and pierced, hurried toward what had apparently been turned into a love nest.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” I grabbed them by their black sleeves next to the suit rack. “Attention, shoppers.” I raised my voice over the blare of rap music and all heads turned toward me. “Only one person at a time in the dressing rooms. To try on clothes. Or I’m shutting the rooms down.” There were a few groans and the flushed couple who’d apparently just emerged from the room, the girl’s T-shirt on inside out, high-fived each other.
Valdez sent me a mental message that Westwood’s man was gone, and I breathed my first easy breath since I’d come inside.
“Check out the vampire.”
I slapped a hand over my mouth before I realized a new arrival pointed at the wall. I kept an eye on the dressing room situation and offered the librarians a generous discount. After that I helped Lacy sack and ring up sales. Business really was brisk, especially for the sixties skirts and Nehru jackets, black, of course.
During a short lull, I hit the Internet and the TV station’s Web site. Oh, great, my little segment was featured. Had I really flashed fang at all of Austin? No, scratch that, the Internet is a wonderful thing. I’d flashed fang at the whole damned world. I hit enter and the segment started. They’d reprised the part where Flo and I, wrapped in bed linens, dripped in front of the burned out shop. Flo, my “partner,” leaned against me while I ranted about a hate crime. Then Donna, looking perky in her green blazer, stood in front of the freshly painted store, the neon Vintage Vamp’s sign above her.
“As you can see, the store is back in business.” A customer pushed open the door and Donna followed. The camera spent less than thirty seconds panning the racks of clothes, hats, accessories and vintage knickknacks before stopping at the now -famous mural.
I braced myself. Oh, yeah, there I was, in a skirt and blouse I was selling just as soon as I could run upstairs and get them. Could I look any dumpier? The tiny bit of cleavage helped, but the full skirt did my hips no favors and that print . . . Damn, but I ’d never noticed the design was horizontal.
I handled Donna’s questions okay—my opinion. And that toothy grin was an unfortunate habit when I’m nervous. So when I got a whiff of the cameraman . . . Yep, fang, just a hint, but undeniable. Thank God the whole “rat” riot had been cut out. Instead we were back on the sidewalk out front, Donna under the sign again.
“So you see, folks, this business may be simply a vintage clothing store where you can find everything from poodle skirts to zoot suits, or a hangout for vampires. No, don’t laugh. Vampires have been the center of bestselling novels”—she waved a hand toward the shop and the mural inside—“art and movies. Why, if they’re just a figment of someone’s overheated imagination? I didn’t see any Dracula capes, but, no matter what the owner claims, you can’t deny the message that mural is sending. Vampires welcome here.” Donna gave the camera a full-on intense “I’m your woman who’ll get the truth” look. “We’ll be keeping an eye on the situation. You can count on Donna Mitchell, Channel Six News.”
“Well, that wasn’t so bad.” I looked back at Lacy who’d stopped straightening stock to peer over my shoulder. “Did you see . .
.” I leaned close and whispered, “Fang?”
“Naw. Well, maybe just a glimpse. Almost like a trick of light. The reporter didn’t even mention it.”
“Exactly. And she would have, don’t you think?” I looked around. “No one’s come in trying to check my bicuspids so that’s a good sign.”
Lacy smiled. “Great publicity. Even the gay angle with you and Flo as ‘partners.’ How cute was that?”
“Thanks. Flo and I are just precious together. We should change the name of the building. Slingback Mountain. ” I sighed, not sure I was ready to be queen of the local vampires. No, wait, Freddy already had that title. Can you tell I was exhausted?
“That reporter’s nuts. Dracula capes? So cliché. My boss is nothing if not fashionable.” Lacy gave me a reassuring smile. She’d been on duty forever and still had all day Saturday ahead of her. Fortunately she seemed tireless. I ’d just popped a black crocheted hobo bag into a sack when I finally asked a customer a question that had been bugging me.
“Did all of you see the mural on the TV Web site?”
“Oh, no. There was a segment on the tube. The weekend wrap-up at midnight. Right before the Saw film festival. When Saw 3
came on, I’d had enough. So we decided to check out the mural.” The girl with silver nose, eyebrow and lower lip studs smiled.
“Cool place and I love that you’re open all night. I usually can’t get Ronnie to shop.” She glanced at her boyfriend who wasn’t shopping but had decided to pet a silently suffering Valdez. Will sat in front of the window, staring out with body language that clearly said “Don’t mess with me.”
“Well, please come back. I’m sorry you had to wait in line to pay. A crowd this big this late is unusual. ” I handed her the sack and the receipt. “Mugs and Muffins is open all night too. You can always stash Ronnie next door with a coffee while you shop.”
“Excellent. Maybe I’ll bring my mom back tomorrow. She’d love the old purses too.”
“We close at midnight on Saturday and reopen a little after midnight on Tuesday morning. ” I grabbed a paper from a stack that had shrunk considerably during the night. “Here, take a flyer, hours are on there.”
I checked out the dwindling crowd. It was getting close to dawn and I could feel it in my usual sinking spell. I tapped Lacy on the shoulder.
“Think you can handle things alone until Melanie gets here later? ” Melanie, our mortal worker, helped Lacy handle the day crowd, especially on Saturdays.
“Sure. Time flies when you’re busy.” Lacy leaned closer. “That a Westwood goon with the spray paint? I’m sorry but I didn’t even notice the glasses. I was just too busy.”
“That’s okay. We handled him. And busy is good. Great.” I gestured toward the door. “I made sure that particular goon won’t be back.”
“Good. But a lot of the other people here tonight will be. That mural is killer.” Lacy smiled. “Flo’s a genius. I don’t mind the type of customers we’re getting. Daytime, our usuals will still show up. And the commissions are really adding up.”
“Good. You deserve every penny. And as for Flo . . .” I sat down on the stool before I fell down. My Fangtastic had just worn off, big time. “I’m really worried about her. She’s gone off the deep end with this new boyfriend.”
A customer sighed as she piled a fifties sweater set and pearl collar on the counter. “My girlfriend’s got a loser boyfriend too. I’m afraid to say anything because I keep thinking she’ll figure it out for herself. And I don’t want to mess up our friendship. You know?”
“Yeah, I know.” Could our friendship survive if I was part of the posse going after Flo’s beloved Simon? I shuddered thinking about reptilian lovemaking. I had to get her away from him.
I was dead on my feet, literally, by the time I unlocked my apartment door. I almost stumbled over the case of Fangtastic sitting just inside. AB negative. Okay, so Simon didn’t stint when it came to peace offerings. And I wasn’t going to turn it down. Are you kidding? Do you have any idea what that stuff costs? And Simon owed me for sending Greg Kaplan sniffing after me. I took a moment to wonder what kind of “punishment” Greg had received. Cool if he’d been denied his VV fix. The guy was a mind-controlling creep. I couldn’t work up any real concern.