“That’s right. So there may very well be people trying to get tickets at the last moment.”
“I’ll take the ticket off your hands!” piped a familiar voice from behind Owen.
His stomach knotted.
The woman smiled as if delighted by Owen’s quick success.
“There you go,” said her husband.
“Dude!” proclaimed the chubby teenager.
The skinny sidekick gave Owen a thumb’s up.
Jungle Jim planted the pipe between his teeth and nodded briskly at Owen, looking pleased with himself as if he’d caused the customer to materialize.
Trying to keep a smile on his face, Owen turned around.
“Surprise!” Monica greeted him, strutting out of the parking lot. “I’m feeling so much better suddenly,” she announced. “Now you won’t need to sell my ticket!”
He gaped at her.
Smirking, she plucked the ticket out of his hand. Then she swung an arm around his back, pulled herself against him, stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the mouth.
A moment later, she whirled away. “Hello, everyone! I’m Monica! I was suffering from a terrible migraine, but I’m feeling so much better now. I think we’re going to have a super time tonight, don’t you?”
Chapter Forty-nine
TICKETS AND BADGES
“Anything I can do to help?” Dana asked as Warren slapped a hamburger patty onto the barbecue. The meat hissed as it hit the grill.
“You can just stand there looking beautiful,” Warren said.
She laughed.
Tuck, suddenly behind her, said, “I’m gonna puke.”
Dana turned and smiled at her. “The hamburgers smell great to me.”
“It ain’t the burgers, it’s him.” She nodded at Warren.
“You weren’t supposed to hear it,” he said.
“Well, lordy, don’t say repulsive stuff like that in public. And especially not at a picnic. You’ll spoil appetites.”
“I thought it was fine,” Dana said.
“You would.” Tuck rapped Dana lightly on the upper arm.
She had a small paper bag in her hand. As it bumped against Dana, whatever was inside clacked and clicked together. “Anyway, why don’t you come along—if you can tear yourself away from Golden Lips. I’m about to greet our esteemed guests. You want to experience the full treatment, don’t you?”
“We...” She looked at Warren.
“Go ahead. I can get along without you for a few minutes.*
“Okay. See you.”
They walked away, Tuck swinging the bag by her side. “Ah,” she said. “Summer romances.”
“Feels like a winter romance.”
“Yeah. A bit of a nip in the air, huh? But it’s great atmosphere.” She looked over her shoulder at Beast House. “This is how it oughta be all the time. I mean, talk about bleak and spooky. Our friends are gonna eat it up.”
“Speaking of friends, what about Eve?”
Tuck grimace. “I don’t know. But it’s still early. She has plenty of time to get here before the tour.”
“I’m really starting to worry about her.”
“Yeah. Me, too. She’s probably all right, though. I mean, I pity anyone who’d try to mess with her. We don’t call her Eve of Destruction for nothing.” Suddenly raising a hand and waving, Tuck called out, “Hello, everyone!” to the people waiting on the other side of the fence.
Some of them ignored her. Others nodded or waved or returned tentative greetings. One guy, costumed either for Halloween or a safari into darkest Africa, raised the stem of his pipe and called out in a harsh voice, “Those who are about to die salute you!”
“Aw, nobody’s gonna die,” Tuck said. “Not tonight, anyway—if we’re lucky.”
As she unlocked the gate, the tourists migrated toward it.
Dana recognized two of them...no, four of them.
There were her two goofy teenaged friends from Thursday—Arnold and someone? They’d caused some trouble by hiding in the house after closing time, but they’d been pretty nice about it.
They seemed a bit young to be doing the Midnight Tour.
Doesn’t matter to me.
She was glad to see them.
The other two familiar faces belonged to Owen and his snotty girlfriend. Mona? No, Monica.
The girl he’d dumped in San Francisco.
What’s she doing here? Dana wondered.
Owen didn’t seem very happy. His face was flushed. He met Dana’s eyes for an instant and quickly looked away. Monica cast a smirk in her direction.
Dana smiled at her, then turned away and saw a couple who looked as if they’d come here to audition for roles in remakes of The Rocky Horror Picture Show.
Charming, she thought.
At least a few of the bunch looked fairly normal. Though why a gal would come to the Midnight Tour in her tennis outfit...didn’t she have time to go home and change?
Done with the lock, Tuck swung open the gate and asked, “Ever-body hungry?”
“I’m beastly starved!” said the safari man.
Dana’s two friends from Thursday smirked and nudged each other.
“Before we start,” Tuck said, “I have a few words to say. I’m Lynn Tucker, and I’m the official guide for the Beast House Midnight Tour. This is my old friend and new assistant, Dana Lake. We’ll be with you till the bitter end. In case you’re wondering, that’ll be at about two a.m. Here’s how the schedule goes.
“You’ll have two hours for the picnic. There’s a no-host bar...meaning you’ll have to shell out cash if you want to get liquored up—but soft drinks and your picnic dinners are included in the price of your tickets. Feel free to roam the grounds. Beast House will be closed until the tour starts, but we’re keeping the gift shop open until nine. As a Midnight Tourist, you’ll get a special ten percent discount on any purchases you make.
“Feel free to leave the grounds at any time. We’ll be handing out souvenir badges that’ll get you back in.
“Our special screening of The Horror will take place at the Haunted Palace movie theater on Front Street.” She pointed to the right. “You can’t miss it. Just be at the main entrance by ten o’clock. After the film, dank and I will lead you back here for the Midnight Tour.
“Any questions about the schedule?” Tuck asked. Not waiting more than half a second, she said, “Okay! Let’s get this show on the road. Welcome to the Midnight Tour picnic. I’ll take your tickets as you come in, and Dana will give each of you a badge.”
“We gotta keep ‘em?” asked the chubby kid.
“You’re Dennis, right?”
He beamed as if proud that Tuck had remembered his name. “That’s right, ma’am. Dennis Dexter. D.D.”
“Call me Lynn, okay? And yes, the badges will be yours to keep. Okay, let’s get started.”
She passed the bag to Dana, then stepped forward to start taking tickets.
Dana reached into the bag. When she tried to scoop up a handful of badges, points pricked her. She winced and jerked her hand out. It looked okay except for a single, bright red drop of blood on the tip of her middle finger.
Just lick it off and...
As she raised the finger toward her mouth, someone caught her wrist and said, “Mine.”
Dana looked up into blue-shadowed, leering eyes.
“No,” she said. Though she spoke softly, everyone nearby suddenly went silent. Heads turned. People were staring, frowning, gathering closer so they wouldn’t miss whatever might be happening. “Please let go,” Dana said. “I don’t...”
Her fingertip vanished into the mouth of the creepy vampire gal. She felt the suck of warm, quick lips.
Onlookers gasped, flinched and muttered.
“Hey!” Dana jerked her hand back.
Tuck, watching, had a strange smile on her face as if she couldn’t believe what had just happened.
“Mmmm, delicious,” the creep said. She licked her black lips. “Now we’re s
isters. My name is Vein. V-e-i-n as in bloooood vessel.”
“Right,” Dana muttered. Being more careful this time, she reached into the bag and took out a badge. It was round with a pin on the back, like a political campaign button. Larger than a silver dollar, it showed a small black rendition of Beast House on a scarlet background. Around the rim, in black letters, it read MIDNIGHT TOURIST.
“Pin it on me.” Vein spread open her black leather jacket and thrust her bra-clad breasts toward Dana.
“Thanks anyway,” Dana said. “Here. Just take it.”
“No no no. Pin it on me, dahhhling.”
“What’s the problem here?” Tuck asked.
“Dana’s shy,” Vein said.
“I’m not,” Tuck said, and snatched the badge out of Dana’s hand. Grinning up at Vein, she asked, “Where do you want it?”
Vein patted the front of her left bra cup, sending a tremor through her breast.
“I wouldn’t want to poke you,” Tuck said.
“Oh, feel free.”
“How about here?” Not waiting for an answer, Tuck slipped a finger under the left shoulder strap, pulled it away from Vein’s skin, and pinned the badge to it.
“Thank you so much, my dear.”
Tuck patted the badge. “I’m here to serve,” she said.
Then she dipped a hand into Dana’s bag, came up with another badge, and turned to Vein’s blonde friend. “Would you like me to pin yours on, too?”
Looking at Tuck with sultry eyes, the blonde said, “I’m Darke.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Tuck said.
Darke’s tongue darted out and wiggled at her.
“Trying to upstage the beast?” Tuck asked.
Several of the others laughed.
“Way cool,” said Arnold..
Safari man blurted, “Bravo!”
Vein and Darke strolled away holding hands.
Everyone seemed to be watching them.
After they were out of earshot—probably—the woman in the tennis outfit said, “To think they’re someone’s children.”
“I don’t envy their parents,” said the fellow beside her.
Probably her husband.
“Did you see what she did?” Dennis asked. “She sucked Dana’s blood.”
“Cool,” Arnold said.
“Nothing cool about it, young chap! Assault and battery, plain and simple. She ought to be incarcerated!”
“They do seem a bit eccentric,” said a mustached man who looked as if he’d stepped out of Gentleman’s Quarterly. “Personally, though, I feel as if I’ve already gotten at least half my money’s worth. I can hardly wait to see what Vein does next.”
“Maybe she’ll suck me,” Dennis said, and blushed as his comment raised some laughter.
“You already suck, dipshit.”
Dana started to laugh.
Raising a hand, Tuck announced, “I’m still open to the idea of taking your tickets and letting you in. Anybody interested?”
First to come through was the safari man. As Dana offered the badge to him, he said, “I’d be pleased to inspect your wound. I’m a doctor, you know.”
“Are you?”
“Dr. Clive Bixby, Ph.D., professor of literature, U.C. Santa Cruz.”
“Ah. You’re not a medical doctor?”
“Hasn’t stopped me yet! I’m a master of many arts, including but not limited to the art of healing.”
Dana raised her finger.
He took the pipe out of his mouth, removed his glasses, and peered at her fingertip. “Anticeptic! Bandage! Take two aspirin. Call me in the morning.” He hiked up an eyebrow, jabbed the pipe into his teeth, and put his glasses back on. “In case of infection,” he said, “we’ll remove it.”
“Oh, great.”
“Cheers,” he said, and hurried on.
Next to come through was the stocky man, followed by his wife in the tennis outfit. They smiled and took their badges, thanked Dana and moved on.
Normal people, Dana thought.
Then came Owen and Monica.
I’d better watch my mouth.
“Welcome aboard,” she said to Owen.
“Hi,” he said. He looked as if he wanted to scream or run away.
“Glad to see you both made it,” she said. She handed one badge to Owen, another to Monica. Speaking directly to Monica, she said, “I hope you have a really good time tonight.”
Bobbing her head and showing her teeth, Monica said, “Thank you so very much. I’m sure it will be memorable. For all of us.”
Owen cringed.
Poor guy. What’d she do, track him down?
Monica pulled his hand, dragging him away.
When Arnold stepped up to Dana, he said, “Weird chick, huh?”
“Pretty weird.”
“Did it hurt?”
“What?”
“How she got your finger. Did she, like, bite it?”
“Oh, her. No, she didn’t bite. I’m fine.”
“That’s good. I mean, it was cool and all, but it wouldn’t be so cool if she hurt you.”
“Sure hope she hasn’t got rabies,” Dennis threw in.
“Shut up, shithead.”
“I wanta pin a badge on her. I’d stick it in her tittie. Prick her tittie.”
“Okay, Dennis,” Dana said.
“I’d, like, prick her anywhere.”
Arnold slugged him on the arm.
“Ow!”
“Don’t be such an asswipe.”
“That hurt, dude.”
Dana quickly gave them badges. “Go on in and have a good time, okay? Try to be nice.”
Next in line was the mustached man. “Is it always this zany?” he asked.
“This is my first time,” Dana explained, and handed a badge to him.
“I won’t even ask you to pin it on me.”
“I’d be happy to pin one on you.”
He blushed slightly and glanced at the woman beside him.
“I’m not sure Alison would appreciate that. But thank you for the offer. I’m Andy Lawrence, by the way. This is my wife, Alison.”
“Nice to meet you,” Dana said. “I hope you enjoy yourselves tonight.”
“It’s off to a pretty good start,” Andy said. “They were ringers, weren’t they?”
“Huh?”
“Vein and Darke. Ringers. It was staged?”
“I wish.”
Looking amused, Alison said, “We thought it might be part of the show. It seemed slightly too bizarre to be real.”
“You should’ve been at this end.”
“Are you all right?” Alison asked.
“Fine.”
“You really ought to put some antiseptic on it.”
“I should say so,” Andy agreed. “You never know where a mouth like that might’ve been.”
“Thanks. I’ll take care of it.”
As they walked away, Tuck stepped over. “We’re still short two customers. I’ll stick around and watch for them. Why don’t you go on over and enjoy the picnic? You shouldn’t leave Warren alone for very long—he’ll suffer withdrawal pangs. Might start weeping, or something.”
Dana gave her the finger.
Laughing, Tuck asked, “Too bad about that. Now you’ll turn into one.”
“A finger?”
“A Vein.”
“If that happens, put me out of my misery.”
“Cheerfully. With a nipple-ring-extractor.”
Dana cringed. “Don’t say stuff like that. Jeez! I hurt just thinking about it. Besides, what makes you think she has nipple rings?”
“What makes you think she doesn’t?”
“I’m getting out of here.” She gave Tuck the bag of badges. “See you later,” she said. “Try not to poke yourself.”
Chapter Fifty
PICNIC
“Buy me a glass of white wine, Owie.”
“Sure,” he said, and hurried over the grass to the bar.
Darke, in fron
t of him, was paying for two glasses of red wine.
“I thought you folks only drink blood,” Owen said.
Darke picked up the glasses and looked at him with lazy, half-shut eyes. “Is that an observation or an offer?”
Wishing he’d kept his mouth shut, Owen shrugged. “Just asking. My name’s Owen.” He thought about putting out his hand for a shake, but Darke was holding two drinks.
Just as well.
Owen didn’t really want to touch a freaky, effeminate guy like this.
“I’m Darke.”
“I know. I heard.”
“What’s your blood type, Owny?”
The question made him feel nervous. “I don’t know.”
“Vein prefers O negative.”
“Ah.”
“I simply like mine warm.”
“I like mine on the rocks,” Owen said, and tried to smile.
Darke looked unamused. “We’ll see you later.”
As Darke glided away, Owen turned to the bar and took a deep breath.
“Don’t let her rattle you,” the bartender said.
“Huh?”
“She’s just trying to shake your cage.”
“She?”
“Her.”
Owen glanced over his shoulder at Darke. “Her? That’s not a woman. Is it?”
“You better believe it, sonny.”
He found the idea strangely exciting. “How do you know?”
The bartender winked and said, “Oh, nothing much gets past me. So, what’ll you have?”
“A white wine and a vodka tonic.”
“Comin’ right up.” As he prepared the drinks, he asked, “A squeeze of lime in the vodka tonic?”
“Sure. Thanks. Are you absolutely sure that was a woman.”
“Not only was, still is.”
Owen chuckled nervously and shook his head. He paid for the drinks, leaving the bartender a large tip. Then he picked up the glasses and turned around.
He saw Darke standing with Vein.
Is it possible?
The bartender was probably just pulling my chain, he told himself, and looked for Dana. He spotted her striding toward the barbecue grills...toward the one in particular where her loverboy was busy turning hamburgers.
She wasn’t wearing a jacket.
Isn’t she cold? Owen wondered.
He thought about offering his windbreaker to her.
Oh, Monica would love that.
The Midnight Tour Page 50
