look like?” he said, sounding more curious than frightened. Peachy had seen a lot, and done a lot. He didn’t scare easily. “Do they wear those capes?”
Like most people of his generation, Peachy’s idea of a vampire began and ended with Bela Lugosi’s brilliant portrayal of the forever-clean Count Dracula slinking through the streets of London, looking for a late-night snack.
Abbie shook her head. “These are all women.”
“Vampire
women
?”
“They used to live in New Orleans, but Katrina disrupted their environment so they had to move.”
“To West End?”
“No, they’re in West End to work with Aretha. They’re models.”
“Does she know?”
“Not yet. Regina doesn’t know it either and she’s the one who negotiated the contract.”
“What contract?” Peachy was looking more and more confused.
“For the photographs.”
He held up his hand. “Okay! Let me see if I got this straight. There are some lady vampires in West End working as models and as long as they drink tomato juice, they don’t need to drink … anything else.”
Abbie was relieved. “That’s it exactly, but Blue thinks there’s more to it than that.”
“Like what?”
“He doesn’t know yet. That’s why he wants me to talk to Louie.”
“What’s Louie got to do with it?”
Abbie was famous for the convoluted pathways her stories often took, but Peachy was determined to keep up.
“He knew their family back in Louisiana,” she said, the bell announcing his arrival right at that moment as if they had planned it. “I told him to come by this morning and tell me what he knows.”
Abbie stood up and so did Peachy.
“Well, I know one thing,” he said, following Abbie back into the house. “When I asked you to tell me what was worrying you, vampires hadn’t even crossed my mind.”
“Welcome to the club.”
Chapter Fourteen
Do-Right Men
“They were always a family of women,” Louie said after he had reported to Peachy on the day’s seafood purchases. Abbie poured him a cup of coffee and joined them at the kitchen table. “I don’t recall a single Mayflower boy, but they had a gang of pretty girls.” Louie sipped his coffee and nodded approvingly.
“What about their parents?” Abbie said.
Louie frowned a little trying to remember. “No father anybody knew about, but the mother was tall and light-skinned just like the girls. Always wore long black dresses. All us kids were convinced she was some kind of witch.”
Abbie and Peachy had talked a lot about witches when they first got together. One time she had discovered a town in Scotland where eighty-one people, and their cats, had been executed after a relentless witch hunt that went on for months. Three hundred years later, town leaders had finally apologized, but the statistics had frightenedAbbie who was just learning to embrace her postmenopausal spiritual powers and didn’t want to hear anything about people being killed for having visions. Peachy had assured her they’d never have to go anywhere near that town, but he had never forgotten the frightened look on her face.
“Did she claim to be one?”
“Not that I ever heard,” he said. “They pretty much kept to themselves most of the time. Every couple of years they’d come to town for a while and then go back.”
He was trying to sound casual, but Abbie remembered how startled he had been to hear her speak their family name yesterday.
“Anybody ever go back with them?”
Louie’s eyes shifted from Abbie’s face to Peachy. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Peachy shook his head sympathetically. “You might as well tell her what you know, man. She’s going to get it out of you anyway.”
“The thing is, some of this stuff is just talk, but it might make you nervous.”
Abbie sat back in her chair and looked at him. “I’m already nervous.”
Louie took his best shot. “What about Blue?”
“Blue doesn’t get nervous.”
“Okay.” Louie sighed and
Like most people of his generation, Peachy’s idea of a vampire began and ended with Bela Lugosi’s brilliant portrayal of the forever-clean Count Dracula slinking through the streets of London, looking for a late-night snack.
Abbie shook her head. “These are all women.”
“Vampire
women
?”
“They used to live in New Orleans, but Katrina disrupted their environment so they had to move.”
“To West End?”
“No, they’re in West End to work with Aretha. They’re models.”
“Does she know?”
“Not yet. Regina doesn’t know it either and she’s the one who negotiated the contract.”
“What contract?” Peachy was looking more and more confused.
“For the photographs.”
He held up his hand. “Okay! Let me see if I got this straight. There are some lady vampires in West End working as models and as long as they drink tomato juice, they don’t need to drink … anything else.”
Abbie was relieved. “That’s it exactly, but Blue thinks there’s more to it than that.”
“Like what?”
“He doesn’t know yet. That’s why he wants me to talk to Louie.”
“What’s Louie got to do with it?”
Abbie was famous for the convoluted pathways her stories often took, but Peachy was determined to keep up.
“He knew their family back in Louisiana,” she said, the bell announcing his arrival right at that moment as if they had planned it. “I told him to come by this morning and tell me what he knows.”
Abbie stood up and so did Peachy.
“Well, I know one thing,” he said, following Abbie back into the house. “When I asked you to tell me what was worrying you, vampires hadn’t even crossed my mind.”
“Welcome to the club.”
Chapter Fourteen
Do-Right Men
“They were always a family of women,” Louie said after he had reported to Peachy on the day’s seafood purchases. Abbie poured him a cup of coffee and joined them at the kitchen table. “I don’t recall a single Mayflower boy, but they had a gang of pretty girls.” Louie sipped his coffee and nodded approvingly.
“What about their parents?” Abbie said.
Louie frowned a little trying to remember. “No father anybody knew about, but the mother was tall and light-skinned just like the girls. Always wore long black dresses. All us kids were convinced she was some kind of witch.”
Abbie and Peachy had talked a lot about witches when they first got together. One time she had discovered a town in Scotland where eighty-one people, and their cats, had been executed after a relentless witch hunt that went on for months. Three hundred years later, town leaders had finally apologized, but the statistics had frightenedAbbie who was just learning to embrace her postmenopausal spiritual powers and didn’t want to hear anything about people being killed for having visions. Peachy had assured her they’d never have to go anywhere near that town, but he had never forgotten the frightened look on her face.
“Did she claim to be one?”
“Not that I ever heard,” he said. “They pretty much kept to themselves most of the time. Every couple of years they’d come to town for a while and then go back.”
He was trying to sound casual, but Abbie remembered how startled he had been to hear her speak their family name yesterday.
“Anybody ever go back with them?”
Louie’s eyes shifted from Abbie’s face to Peachy. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Peachy shook his head sympathetically. “You might as well tell her what you know, man. She’s going to get it out of you anyway.”
“The thing is, some of this stuff is just talk, but it might make you nervous.”
Abbie sat back in her chair and looked at him. “I’m already nervous.”
Louie took his best shot. “What about Blue?”
“Blue doesn’t get nervous.”
“Okay.” Louie sighed and
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