Free Officer Elvis by Gary Gusick Page B

community.”
    “Even your boss, fatso Shelby Mitchell, has showed up,” said Kendall. “I saw him hanging around outside with a few of his favorite county cops, chewing his wad and spitting onto the asphalt parking lot at will. The odious old fart. Bless his heart.”
    “Then there’s the fourth group, the other Elvis impersonators,” said Lulu. A confederation of eight Elvis impersonators, all in costume, were busy working the crowd, especially the old ladies. Handing out their business cards, they were hoping to get their share of Tommy’s customers.
    Sitting in the front row of chairs, in front of Tommy’s urn, Cill was attired in her black cocktail dress, with black fishnet stockings, her hair poufed up to look like you know who. She was quietly accepting condolences with great dignity, but then abandoned that during the photo taking when she decided to get in the picture. Jumping up to the cutout of Tommy, she struck a pose, looking up adoringly at the cardboard image of her former sweetheart.
    “I’ve never used drugs in my life, not even pot,” said Darla, “but sometimes in Mississippi I’d swear I must be tripping on LSD.”
    “Down here,” said Lulu, “we regard funerals as more or less a form of performance art.”
    A half dozen of the elderly women took their a cue from Cill and formed a line to take a selfie with the Elvis cutout, caressing his cardboard hair, kissing the cutout on the cheek, and leaving lipstick traces. A few even did a cardboard crotch grab, which Darla was guessing might end up on Facebook.
    “This is Armageddon,” said Darla.
    “I’m surprised you haven’t been over to interrogate me about the murder,” said Kendall, “considering my general disdain for the departed, that no-good mule. Bless his heart.”
    Kendall and Tommy did have bad blood, going back to a high school date, wherein Kendall was said to have struck Tommy with his Gibson guitar after Tommy had tried to feel her up. Fast-forward a couple of decades and we have Tommy arresting Kendall for murder one. The arrest proved to be without foundation and Tommy was forced to apologize. Whereupon Kendall flipped him the bird in the lobby of the Hinds County Sheriff’s Department, with Darla and most of the detectives in the department present.
    “I’m sure you have motive, Kendall,” said Darla, “but I doubt you have the requisite understanding of explosive devices.”
    “I can pop popcorn in the microwave,” said Kendall. “I usually don’t scorch any, either. Except if I get distracted.”
    It was time to get down to business. Darla needed information. “What do you girls know about a place called the Adonis Club?” she asked.
    “Cunthound Conway’s place? Bless his heart,” said Kendall. “The one that was only open for a month?”
    “I went to the Adonis Club opening night, girl.” Lulu fanned herself. “For a certain kind of woman, and I’d count myself as one of them, there’s nothing that can compare with getting yourself all worked up over a gorgeous man that you have absolutely no chance of attracting, no matter how hot you look or how unladylike you’re willing to be.” She looked at Darla, her nostrils flared. “I know you’re married to one of the sexier men in Jackson, but really, little sister, a gay man dancing sexy for other gay men, it’s a sight to behold.”
    “And Conway was doing a brisk business?” asked Darla.
    “Packed them in every night,” said Lulu.
    “Then Tommy and a bunch of his holier-than-anybody friends at the First Self-Righteous caught a couple of state senators getting lap dances,” said Kendall.
    “You know about this?” asked Darla.
    “It may not have been on the Internet,” said Lulu, “but it was on the hairnet.”
    “You’re thinking Conway could have lit the torch on that piece of shit Caddy Tommy drove around?” Kendall asked Darla. When Darla didn’t answer, she said, “I heard that Continental Conway has come into some money, the