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

he’d better make sure. He pulled out his phone and called the police. He identified himself and said, “Did Mirabel Lane just call you?”
    “Yep,” the dispatcher said. “She wants me to send someone to throw you and your nasty aunts out of her house.”
    “You don’t need to send anyone,” Gerry said. “We’re leaving now. More important, Mirabel is walking toward Hellebore University wearing a valuable costume and jewels. Can you spare someone to make sure she gets there safely?”
    “Anything for Mirabel,” the dispatcher said. “But I’m still sending someone to check on you. If you don’t leave her house right now, you’ll be sorry.”
    He might be sorry anyway, if Mirabel refused to listen to his explanation. He tried not to think about that.
    “I knew you’d do your duty, Gerry,” April said. “Now the cops won’t bother us, but they’ll keep track of that thief.” She hurried up the steps of the house with June in tow. “Let’s see what else he left behind.”
    “Oh, no, you don’t.” Gerry stopped her in the doorway and blocked June with a hand. “If I remember correctly, Grandpa told you never to darken his doorstep again.”
    “He’s dead,” April huffed. “What he wanted doesn’t matter anymore.”
    “I’m afraid it does,” Gerry said. “It’s my duty to uphold his wishes.”
    April tried to push past him. “Do as I
say
.”
    “No.” Gerry took her by the arm and moved her gently but insistently away from the door. “Never again.”
    He locked the house, drove the bitterly scolding April and the querulous June to the lawyer’s office, and parked them in the waiting room under the watchful eye of Stan’s receptionist.
    Stan laid out the documents he had prepared for Gerry to sign. “You’re sure about all this?”
    “Absolutely,” Gerry said.
    “Crazy bastard. Or maybe I should say ‘lucky duck.’ Not many guys get to have a vampire.”
    Gerry hoped like hell he hadn’t already lost her. “How did you know Mirabel was one?”
    “My assistant’s cousin is a vampire. He recognized the signs.” Stan sighed. “I’ve done the best I could in no time at all, but I’d like to redraft it later so as to better protect your interests.”
    “This should give me what I need for now,” Gerry said. “But I’d also like you to record our conversation with my aunts. And since your assistant knows everything, you might ask him to take notes, too.”
    Stan goggled. “You’re going to tell those old biddies Mirabel’s a vampire?”
    “They already know.” Gerry hauled his aunts into Stan’s office and told them, “Before you decide whether to proceed with your lawsuit, I need to tell you all a story.”
    “About what?” June whined. “We
have
to sue her. Gerry, how
could
you just let her take our stuff?”
    April crossed her scrawny arms. “Be quick about it, and if you think I’m paying Stan while you jaw on about nothing, you can think again.”
    Gerry told them about the Mardi Gras ball of 1941 and Dorinda and Arthur’s ill-fated romance. “He was shipped off to the South Seas,” Gerry said. “Perhaps through the influence of her wealthy future husband, or perhaps the family of a woman who was jealous of Dorinda. A family who wanted their daughter to be the belle of the ball and win over the most eligible bachelor in town. Would you have any idea which?”
    June’s eyes widened. April shot her a look and sniffed. “Of course not. We weren’t even born yet.”
    “Your mother might have told you something,” Gerry said, and the pink spots on June’s cheeks told him he’d guessed correctly. “She attended that same Mardi Gras ball.” He paused, but neither of them denied that, perhaps because it would be easy enough to prove.
    “Wow. What a story.” Stan glanced at the haughty April and the quivering June. “So that really is a fang in the famous photo of Dorinda.”
    “Of course it is,” April snarled.
    “As my grandfather wished, Mirabel