“Are you glad Eva didn’t give in to Samantha wanting to die her hair blond like the real Elsa?”
“Is there a real Elsa? She’s an animated character.”
“But so real for Samantha.”
“Eva held her ground. Part of that Latin passion. It’s good for Samantha to feel comfortable with her brown hair.”
“It was pretty, and braided just like Elsa,” Alisa said, singing the name.
“How many times was the theme song played in the house?”
“Enough to where you’ll probably dream about it.”
I looked at her funny as I turned into the parking lot of The Jewel. “Geez, you and my dreams…” When the words came out, I realized they had a bite to them, and she looked out the window. A throng of people dressed in Halloween costumes walked toward the front of the building. Actually, one was dragging his foot on the concrete, as blood dripped from just under a bandage that wrapped his bald, veiny head.
“The Zombie apocalypse. That guy must stay in character twenty-four seven,” I said, glancing at Alisa. “No worries. I’ll protect you.”
She gave me a quick smirk.
I turned off the Saab’s ignition, leaned over, and kissed Alisa softly. “Ignore what I say. Half the time I don’t think.”
“What about the other half?” she asked as she gave me a soft pat on the side of my face, winked, and got out of the car.
“She’s baaack,” I said as we rounded the car.
“She never leeeft,” she said as her gait turned into a full strut.
We shared a nice laugh.
The moment we walked through the front door of The Jewel, we were met by Justin and my eyes did a double take as Alisa started laughing.
“No idea you were going to dress up as Vincent Vega from Pulp Fiction,” I said. “Is that real?” I reached for his black, stringy hair that was still in his normal ponytail, loose strands falling into his eyes.
He swatted my hand away. “You’ll never know, Jules.” He looked to Alisa. “Mia, you’re looking nice.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a kid racing by with a plastic tub full of empty plates and glasses, a look of determination on his face.
“Hey, thanks for letting me borrow Bolt for the night. That kid works nonstop.”
“Don’t get used to it,” I said, glancing at Alisa. For the last several weeks, Bolt had been bugging me to work more at Justin’s bar. While I supported him learning how to run a business, coming in during the day or times when there weren’t drunk patrons falling onto the floor, I didn’t think it was healthy for a fifteen-year-old kid to be part of a huge adult party like this. Looking around, I saw plenty of outfits that supported my concerns—girls with everything hanging out, and guys trying to make statements about their appendages.
“Geez,” I said, rubbing my face. “I might have made the wrong decision.”
“Remember what Bolt said?” Justin said, his arms wide.
“I know, he’s seen or heard everything, maybe more than us. Right, he used that line on me a dozen times down in the Dominican. But there I had no say. And we were fighting to stay alive. And just because he’s seen it, doesn’t mean it should be thrown in his face every day. He’s only fifteen. We should let him be fifteen.”
Justin jabbed my chest. “Dude, do you remember what we used to be like at age fifteen, the shit we used to get into?” His eyes shifted to Alisa.
I thought about it a moment, then nodded. “You might have a point.”
“You going to tell me all your teenage secrets?” Alisa said, curling up to me, whispering in my ear.
“You’d probably be grossed out. On top of everything else, I was…awkward.”
“The cool Booker, my Shaft.” She winked and squeezed my biceps. “You weren’t cooler than the other side of the pillow as a teenager?”
“Not at that age. Thanks for the Stuart Scott reference, though. Nice touch.”
“And Justin?” she asked with a quizzical look.
I chuckled before I could get the words out. “He’s always been awkward.”
I looked over at Justin to see if he’d heard me, hoping he’d heard me. But he was looking past me, and then he broke out in laughter, the kind that made his shoulders bounce up and down. I turned and couldn’t believe my eyes.
“Henry?”
Alisa chimed in. “Cindy?”
The two girls hugged, as best they could, considering the huge impediment that was attached to Cindy’s body.
“You comfortable now, Booker?” Justin flicked his hand off my ribs again.
Unable to keep a straight face, I started chuckling.
“Green and red M&M’s? Nicely done, counselor,” I said to Henry, who gave me a forced smile.
“We’re the M&M twins,” Cindy said proudly. She tried to lean in close to Henry, but their enormous, cushiony shells got in her way. She snuck in a kiss on his cheek.
“Okay, I’ll be the sucker. What was your motivation for the candy outfits?” I pointed at both of them.
Cindy took a step forward, accidentally bumping Alisa. “I know everyone would probably expect me to come to an event like this dressed up as a sexy nurse, showing off plenty of cleavage. And I thought about it. Henry could dress up as a doctor with a name tag on his green scrubs that says ‘Gynecologist.’”
Justin brought a fist to his mouth, trying to hold back the laughter.
“Not exactly something I want to blast to Twitter World, but I could deal with that idea,” Henry said, his mood not nearly as jovial as everyone around him. “Especially with Cindy dressed up like the sexy nurse.” A smile returned as he shifted his eyes to his girlfriend.
“But you get to see all of that every day. So I thought we’d go with something completely different.”
“Understated. I like it,” I said.
Henry gave me a look of condemnation.
“Sure, we look goofy and all, but later, after I’ve had a couple of shots…” Cindy said with a wicked grin.
Justin extended a hand into the middle of our group talk. “We’ve got a special tonight. Buy any one of our special Halloween drinks and get an appetizer at half price.”
Alisa rolled her eyes.
“What?”
“I’ll go take a look at the menu in a second,” Cindy said.
“You were saying after you have a couple of shots?” Alisa said.
She glanced at Henry, a devilish look in her eyes, and held out her hands. “He melts in my mouth, not my hands.”
The whole group broke out in laughter…everyone except for Henry, who tried to crack a smile.
“Mr. Booker, what’s the joke? Please tell me.”
Flipping around, I saw Bolt holding an empty plastic tub.
“Adult conversation, Bolt. Need to wait five years. Actually, make that ten.”
I sounded like Momma.
He walked off, muttering something in Spanish, as Alisa sidled up to me. “I agree with you on this one. But realize you can’t keep him locked up forever. He’s going to grow up and experience things one way or the other. Might want to consider being more open about stuff. Just my two cents.”
I nodded, considering Alisa’s input.
“I gotta get to work. Remember, I still have two jobs,” she said, taking a step. She turned back around and planted a kiss on my cheek. “By the way, you kind of sounded like your mother a second ago.” She patted my chest. “Just something to think about.”
She did her thing, and I did mine. I walked the crowd, blending in with the revelers, ensuring we didn’t have any punks among us. Halloween was different than most of the events at The Jewel. Justin went all out with the theme and decorations, and the patrons got into just as much.
Justin swooped by me. “You want a drink? One of our Halloween specials? We have this one called a Blue Lime Ghost, with lime vodka and blue curacao.”
“Dude, I’m working. I don’t drink when I’m working. Remember?”
“I hea
r ya.”
Justin scooted away, upselling his drink specials to a woman painted with green makeup and wearing a long, green dress. She also had two green bolts sticking out of her head. A much larger man moved up next to her, also covered in green makeup. Then it hit me. Fiona and Shrek. Kind of original.
Continuing my initial walk-through, I spotted a group of guys dressed like an Indian, cop, cowboy, and construction worker. One told a girl, “We’re the Village People.”
She replied with, “I thought they were gay?”
His comeback line was lame. “But it takes a village.” He opened his arms, waiting for her to fall into his arms or laugh. She rolled her eyes and walked away.
A swirling green light splashed across my face, and I glanced at the ceiling. Justin had actually added a number of clustered spotlights, some stationary, another set rotating.
“You like that?” Justin had pulled up next to me again.
“Amazing, dude. You love Halloween.”
“Well, that, and it helps get people in the mood.” He rubbed his fingers together.
“Right, you love greenbacks more. I get it.”
“Actually, all of this was put together by the theatre department from North Dallas High School. Bolt’s school.”
“I remember you saying something about that. Even this high-tech light show?”
“Kids these days are wizards with this stuff. All the lighting is connected via a wireless controller, and they’ve programmed everything to work on a schedule.”
“Excuse me, Jules, can I cut in line?” Turning left, a guy wearing a pirate outfit was trying to scoot by. “Captain Jack Sparrow at your service,” he said, slurring his British accent.
I moved out of the way, as he moved in behind a woman decked out in a Wicked Witch outfit standing next to a girl with red hair, blue dress, and red, sparkly heels.
“Wizard of Oz,” Justin said smiling. “I love this night. What can I say?”
Arching my neck around the line of ghoulish patrons, I saw three women sitting at a long table.
Justin said, “The psychics I brought in. They’re sisters. Triplets.”
I nodded, noticing their plain costumes, although they still looked plenty creepy. “Warts on their noses, black dresses, and dyed, black hair. Who are they trying to be?”
Justin shook his head, his lips drawing a straight line. “Themselves. That’s how they normally look.”
“Seriously?”
He shrugged his bony shoulders. “They’re the real deal, man.”
Suddenly, orange lights fluttered behind the table of triplets, bouncing off a ridge of smoke drifting through the air. Then, a box—what was supposed to be a coffin—opened, and a person popped up, a pale white face with a widow’s peak cutting down his forehead. Dracula had awakened. For a second, I thought he was real. Well, not the Dracula part, but I thought it was an actual human.
“Welcome to The Jewel,” a voice said as the dummy moved its mouth. “There is a special drink named after me called Dracula’s Blood. Just ask your bartender or waiter for details.”
I turned to Justin. “Don’t tell me, you’ve got pictures of your drink specials plastered all over the bathrooms.”
He paused for a second. “Didn’t think of that one. Maybe next year.”
I chuckled as I watched the vampire disappear back into its coffin and the lid shut.
“Can you believe those high school kids? The talking, robotic vampire was all their idea. Brilliant.”
“And then you gave them the copy for your little advertisement.”
“Of course. It’s all about the return on investment, Booker. ROI.”
“How much did you pay them?”
He scrunched his face into a prune.
“You did pay them?”
“They only wanted the opportunity to show off their skills. They said they were putting together a website and wanted to use this to help advertise their talents. I’m their first customer, so they insisted on gratis.”
“Fancy term for cheap,” Alisa said as she walked by, holding a tray of drinks with red stuff slithering down the side.
I patted Justin on the shoulder, turning to the front door. In walked a guy with gold chains, a baseball cap turned sideways, and shades. I waved him over.
“What’s up, Paco? Like your new facial hair.” I scratched my scruff.
“You know me; I got nothing more than peach fuzz on my face. Reyna insisted on gluing this goatee on me. I’m wondering if my skin is allergic, though. I’m itching like crazy, man.”
I took hold of the gold medallion hanging down in front. “I know you like your jewelry. Did you rob a bank for this stuff?”
He leaned in closer. “This stuff is the bomb, isn’t it? Reyna found it at a garage sale. That woman will do anything for me.”
“She didn’t want to come along?”
“Nah, she’s hosting a Halloween party for the girls. A house full of girls screaming while watching scary movies. No thanks. Glad I’m here,” he said, smacking my hand.
“It’s a pretty low-key crowd, if you can get past the costumes.”
“Yeah, I saw this one couple on the side of the bar wearing what looked like M&M candy outfits.”
“Henry and Cindy.”
“For real?”
“It’s not Henry’s finest moment. Doesn’t give him that assistant DA vibe.”
As the night continued, I found a perch in the corner, from where I could see the rest of the place. Alisa joined me for a minute, talking shop. “Have you told Henry about your Sciafini meeting?”
“I need to. Hoping to pull him away from Cindy. It’s not a short story, because if you open the Sciafini box even partially, you pretty much have to share everything. I’m not proud of my association with a crime boss.”
“But you were pulled into it.”
“Tell that to a prosecutor,” I said, tipping my head back to down a mouthful of tonic water.
“I feel really bad for Bernice,” Alisa said. “All those dreams of traveling with her husband, waiting all those years. It’s sad. Kind of makes you think about living more in the moment, you know?”
Just then, Bolt placed his tub on the floor next to us and then wiped his brow. I’d just noticed his outfit: a red, white and blue soccer uniform with the US National Team logo on the front.
“Surprised you went with the US. You could have gone with the Dominican,” I said.
“True. But I owe a lot to this country. I will plant my roots here. I will start my business here. The land of opportunity,” he said, as if he worked for the National Chamber of Commerce, if there was such a thing.
Sounded like he already had a life plan. Not bad for a kid who’d been living in the country for about four months.
“Hey, pal, mind if I squeeze in here and get a couple of napkins? My brains are falling out.” A man wearing another Zombie costume pointed at his head, revealing shriveled-up brains dribbling through a painted crack, although his “brains” looked more like scrambled eggs.
He leaned in and grabbed a handful of napkins. “Waitress spilled a drink on my head.”
He disappeared just as Justin walked up. “Hey, Bolt, do you know why the zombie put poison in his girlfriend’s corn flakes?”
Bolt scratched his head as his lips turned upward. “No, why?”
“Because he was a…wait for it…cereal killer.”
Bolt cracked up, and Justin joined in. Alisa and I laughed at them.
“Hey, Justin, what do you get when you cross a zombie with a snowman?” Bolt asked, already beaming. “Frost bite.”
The unlikely pair went back and forth like two teenage boys—one was, the other just acted like it—for the next ten minutes.
“Need a busboy on table six,” someone called out. Bolt flipped into work mode, scooped up the bucket, and motored over to the table.
“Whew. Wasn’t sure we’d ever escape that cheesy exchange,” Alisa said, squeezing my arm.
&n
bsp; At the peak of the night, around eleven, Paco said he had to bug out. Something about working another off-duty gig at a haunted house. Alisa saw the back of Paco walking out the front door.
“Where did Paco run off? Didn’t even say goodbye.”
“Said he had another off-duty gig at a haunted house.”
Justin jumped in. “I thought he didn’t want to be around a bunch of screaming teenage girls?”
“True, but this one pays cash. Top dollar, from what he said.”
Just then, I felt a buzz in my pocket. As my eyes gazed at the bright screen, my neck felt like a metal plate was affixed to my spinal cord.
“Booker, what’s up?” Alisa said.
Henry waddled up in his red M&M costume, waggling his phone my way. “Did you get the same thing?”
I nodded, looking at Alisa. “It’s Chief Ligon. There’s been another murder.”
12
Wearing a sports coat over a plain white T-shirt didn’t help much. Henry had ditched the red M&M outfit that barely allowed him to fit through a double doorway, but the athletic shorts, tennis shoes, and red socks pulled up to his knees couldn’t keep the throng of cops from chuckling under their breaths as he and I lifted out of separate cars and made our way to the crime scene near the corner of Olive and North Houston.
“Are you following the red brick road?” one cop said as he walked by us.
Henry shot him a look, then tugged at each side of his sports coat. “Juvenile assholes. You’d think they’d be more worried about a dead girl lying in the street than noticing my outfit. It is Halloween, after all.”
Patting Henry on the shoulder, I said, “No worries, Henry. Just be glad Cindy didn’t have you wearing green.”
He gave me a quizzical look.
“You haven’t heard about the story behind the green M&Ms?”
“Heard what?”
“Uh…they were rumored to be a sexual stimulant.”
“Who said?”
“The all-knowing source: the Internet.” I couldn’t help but crack a smile.
BOOKER Box Set #2 (A Private Investigator Thriller Series of Crime and Suspense): Volumes 4-6 Page 60
