“Why? Ith there trouble?”
“Looks that way,” Saber said, and gave me a shoulder bump. “You want to pick up that, ah, thing you wanted while I go get the beer?”
I took the hint. Buy something from the nice girl to distract her from our questions. I left with another bra top camisole, a pair of shorts, and a little peek into Cici’s mind. She had no idea Jo-Jo was in town, so how had Laurel found out about him? Was she spying on me, or did Ike have someone else doing it? Like Jo-Jo himself?
Nope, I’d been in Jo-Jo’s head. He might be a dupe, but he wasn’t a spy.
On Wednesday afternoon, Saber and I met with his Realtor, Amanda Hogan. The young, blonde, and ultratanned Amanda was skittish with me at first, but was taking me in stride by the time we toured the third property. And she’d stopped eyeing Saber’s butt when she thought I wasn’t looking. Points for her.
Back at my place, Saber ate while I changed for the comedy club. In deference to Jo-Jo’s debut, I wore a turquoise silk jersey dress that crisscrossed under my breasts, paired with silver stiletto sandals. I didn’t wear high heels as a rule, because, hey, life is way casual in St. Augustine. But these shoes were Maddie Springer originals, on sale direct from her website and designed to seduce.
My hair is the bane of my afterlife. Long and wavy, and in the humidity I look like Janis Joplin on a bad hair day. Post electric shock. After attacking it with the flatiron, I arranged a French twist and secured the updo with a fancy claw clamp. A bit of eye shadow, powder, and a few sweeps with the mascara wand, and I was ready.
Saber gave a long whistle and look that invited me to take off everything but the sexy heels and stay home. Tempting, but we made it to the comedy club by eight fifty. And, okay, I was glad it was dark enough that the women couldn’t ogle Saber, because he was scrumptious in gray slacks and a white shirt.
We snagged a table one row back from the front as Neil and Maggie joined us, and our waitress arrived. I had my usual sweet tea, heavy on the ice, Saber ordered a beer, and Maggie opted for a frozen margarita, no salt. Neil ordered a gin and tonic with lime.
“You don’t want a double?” Maggie asked.
Neil scowled. “You think he’ll be that bad?”
Maggie just patted his arm and turned to me. “Did we miss any acts?”
I shrugged. “We just beat you here, but the open mike part is supposed to start in five minutes.”
“Nervous for Jo-Jo?” she asked.
“Terrified.”
She grinned as the emcee took the stage. “Good.”
I have to admit it. I didn’t expect much from the open mike performers, but I underestimated them. My favorites were the mother of five who called her children The Horde, and the thirty-something doing a Beer Bowl sportscast. Saber and Neil were on their second drinks when the emcee stepped to the microphone to announce the final act and remind the audience to tell their friends about the club.
“And now, let me hear you put your hands together for Jo-Jo!”
Jo-Jo took the stage like he owned it, not dressed in the leather pants and poet shirt, but in black jeans and tan button-up shirt. He looked casual, he looked confident, he looked in complete control. And I was a wreck waiting for him to open his mouth.
“Good evening ladies and—”
If he says germs, I’m sliding under the table.
“—gentlemen. Thank you for staying tonight, and I hope you’ve enjoyed your evening.
“Now, it’s probably not obvious, but I’m a vampire.”
Titters in the crowd. Good.
“Really. One way you can tell I’m a vampire is that I’m a couple of hundred years old and I still have my hair.”
More titters. I glanced at Maggie, who nodded.
“Well, think about it. When was the last time you saw a vampire with hair plugs?”
Jo-Jo’s pauses were impeccably timed, and chuckles rippled through the room now. Still, I held my breath.
“You’re not convinced, huh? Well, I’d flash my fangs for you, but they fell out a while back when I accidentally bit into something I shouldn’t have. A rolling pin.”
A snort, some guffaws and giggles.
“See, I was going in to kiss my lady, all romantic-like”—he shifted his feet and reached out on either side of the mike as if to demonstrate an embrace—“when she forcefully reminded me I hadn’t taken out the trash.”
Jo-Jo made a smacked-in-the-kisser face that shifted the crowd’s energy completely into the palm of his comic hand.
“I’m telling you, that woman was serious about her trash day. I tried to find a dentist who’d make dentures with fangs, but no dice. On the bright side, vampire denture cream comes in three full-bodied flavors: mint, cinnamon, and O positive.”