Free [Bayou Gavotte 00.0] Back to Bite You by Barbara Monajem Page A

frightened April and June.
    Usually she kept her vampire temper in check, but this time rage was called for—although she wasn’t sure who made her more furious: Gerry for making a fool of her or herself for believing she had fallen in love.
    She glided into the front hall, parting the aunts with a flick of the scepter and a tornado of allure. Gerry clutched the sofa as he had last night, but she knew he fought the allure for an entirely different reason this time. She dragged her eyes away from him. She wouldn’t give him or his aunts the satisfaction of seeing her burst into tears.
    “The gown!” The short, rotund aunt shrieked, hands upraised to ward off some imagined evil. “It
was
here! I knew it!”
    “The parure!” The taller aunt’s talons clenched and unclenched. “That belongs to us! Take it off, you murdering bitch!”
    “Why ever would I do that?” Mirabel simpered. “Don’t you think it becomes me?” She poked a foot out from under the flowing skirt of the gown. “Well, except for the flip-flops. I’ll have shoes custom made to match.” She didn’t need to look at Gerry to know he couldn’t keep his eyes off her.
    Good. Let him suffer, the traitor
. How could he put the wishes of his aunts ahead of darling old Arthur?
    “You’ll never get away with this,” the taller aunt hissed.
    “Oh, yes, I will.” Mirabel might think sultry was boring, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t do it just fine. She lowered her voice to a purr and put a provocative sway in her stride. “Nothing you do will make any difference. Everyone is on my side. The lawyer,the accountant, the club manager, the police . . .” She laughed—not easy, the way she felt—and waved the scepter like a wand. She might have enjoyed that, too, except that Gerry stood utterly still to the side, doing nothing.
    He gives in to those bitches too often
, Arthur had said.
That’s his one great character flaw
.
    “Get off my property, or I’ll call the cops.” Mirabel sashayed past them through the front door and down the steps. “In fact, I’ll call them right now to make sure you leave.” She hitched the long train of the gown over her arm, flipped open her cell phone, and kept walking.
    “Thief!” the taller aunt cried. “Go after her!”
    “She’s getting away!” lamented the shorter one. “Stop her, Gerry!”
    Gerry’s voice was calm. “Ms. Lane inherited the house and its contents. They’re legally hers.”
    “Not for long!” hollered the taller aunt, clattering down the stairs.
    “Maybe so, but I’m not letting you chase after her in your car,” Gerry said in that same even voice. “This is a matter for the lawyers, Aunt April. We’ll go there now.”
    How
could
he? Mirabel whirled, still moving, shaking the dust of her association with Gerry Kingsley from her feet with every step. He wasn’t even looking her way, merely prying the car keys from his protesting aunt’s claw, saying, “You won’t win your case by attacking Ms. Lane now.”
    Mirabel shouted, “You won’t win anything by suing me. I’ll burn the place down before I let you have one single thing that belonged to Arthur.”
    Her voice gave way. She fought back tears as she called the police and then strode away down the street, head high, brandishing the scepter like a sword.
    * * *
    Gerry watched until Mirabel went around the corner and out of sight. She hadn’t even looked at him while she’d marched through the house and out the door. Hopefully she didn’t think he was siding with his aunts.
    Yeah, he was pretty sure she did. He should have explained the situation to her when he’d had the chance. Now she believed the worst of him.
    Judging by the following she was attracting with that incredible outfit, coupled with her allure, Mirabel would make it where she was going—hopefully to the university museum―unscathed. Nobody could kidnap, rob, or murder someone so damned noticeable without attracting a lot of attention.
    But