Waldo didn’t respond, not even with a blink of his reptilian eyes or a swish of his scaly tail, but Josie Lynn did hear something behind her. Expecting to see Drake already following her, she was surprised to see the hallway and bedroom door empty.
She must have heard Drake moving inside the room. She returned her attention to getting the clothes to Drake’s friends. Everyone seemed pretty confident that Zelda was okay, but they should probably hurry and get her checked out. Who knew what kind of drugs had been slipped in the punch, if that was even what they had been slipped into, and who knew how much Zelda had gotten.
She opened the dungeon door and hurried inside.
DRAKE DUCKED BACK into Zelda’s bedroom before Josie Lynn could see him and paused, listening, hoping she’d continue talking to herself. Or Waldo, as the case may be. Talking sweetly to an alligator like she was talking to the family dog.
He had to admit, she didn’t seem like a hardened criminal. Or a criminal at all. Okay, she could wrestle an alligator, which was thoroughly impressive. And she definitely had no qualms about stating her mind. He was pretty sure neither of those things were on any lists of top traits for criminal offenders. But those two things made her interesting as hell. And very appealing—in this oddly paradoxical way. She was clearly tough, yet she had this sweet, angel face and soft, curvy body.
He just didn’t know. Maybe she wasn’t involved in the events of last night.
And maybe he was just getting suckered in by a lovely face and sexy body. God knows he had an MO for that sort of thing. How many of his worst choices in life were made because he’d fallen for a pretty face?
He looked down at his dick—blessedly flaccid at the moment, and it wasn’t many times in a man’s life that he thought that. But his buddy down there had made far too many of the most important life decisions for him.
“And you are not a good judge of character, my friend,” he informed his penis.
Still, he was having doubts about Josie Lynn’s guilt. He did see her take the money, but she hadn’t denied that fact. And while she did make and have access to the punch, she’d also made a valid point about that, too; dozens of people had had access to it.
He guessed that the only way he was going to figure out the truth was to find the gang of transvestites, and just to be safe, he was going to keep Cupcake with him. He was sure she wouldn’t like it. She’d made it abundantly clear last night and tonight that he was not one of her favorite people. But he couldn’t risk her possibly being a part of this mess and getting away with robbery. So they would go search the French Quarter for clues.
How hard could it be to find five drag queens dressed like Cher?
“SO HOW LONG have you known Drake?” Katie asked as she hefted Zelda’s leg in the air.
Josie Lynn instantly felt her cheeks burn.
“Umm, I just met him last night.” She started to fidget with his pirate shirt, but caught herself.
“Well, welcome to the weird world of The Impalers.”
Josie Lynn frowned at Stella, who struggled to get the silver legging over one of Zelda’s large feet. “The Impalers?”
“Hold her leg still,” Stella told Katie, then answered Josie Lynn, “The Impalers is the name of the band that all of our boys are in. Wyatt, my boyfriend, plays rhythm guitar and tries to sing.” The redhead stopped her exertion to shoot Josie Lynn a conspiratorial smile. “Don’t tell him I said that. He thinks he’s got a great voice.”
Josie Lynn readily nodded, although she wondered when exactly she would ever meet her boyfriend. She didn’t expect to see these people again after tonight.
“And my husband,” Katie said, trying to get a better grip on Zelda’s long leg, “actually can sing. He’s the lead singer.”
Josie Lynn nodded, a little surprised and overwhelmed by the two women’s friendliness, but she supposed they didn’t know that Drake thought she was the villain of last night. They probably wouldn’t be so nice if they knew that. There was still every chance Drake might tell them, too. Not that any of that mattered as long as she found out the truth.
But even as her thoughts went to all those places, she found herself asking, “What does Drake play?”
“Oh, he’s the lead guitarist,” Katie said smiling at her. She had such a lovely smile. One of those smiles that made the person she was smiling at want to smile, too.
“Probably the best guitarist on Bourbon,” said Stella, still focused on dressing Zelda, a satisfied smile curving her lips as she finally managed to get the legging over Zelda’s foot. “Maybe even all of New Orleans. He’s amazingly talented.”
“Although he’d deny that,” Katie added. “He can be very humble about his talent.”
Humble? Josie Lynn hadn’t gotten that vibe from him. But these were his friends; they would see him differently than she would.
“But only about his talent,” Stella said, waiting for Katie to step over Zelda and raise her other leg. “About everything else, he can be pretty arrogant.”
“Well, I think that’s because of how he was raised, don’t you?” Katie said.
“Probably,” Stella agreed, then bit her lips as she concentrated on lining up the leg hole of the legging with other Zelda’s foot.
Again, almost against her will, Josie Lynn found herself asking, “How was he raised?”
Stella’s stopped her lining up, and Katie almost dropped Zelda’s leg. Josie Lynn didn’t miss the look the two women exchanged. They thought they had said too much.
“He was raised . . .” Katie looked at Stella for help.
“He was raised very privileged.”
Josie Lynn got the feeling that wasn’t exactly the word either of the women wanted to use, but she didn’t get the chance to ask more, because the door opened and the privileged Drake strode into the room. She was pretty sure none of them were thinking about his past now. All eyes and thoughts were locked on his outfit. Wow, and what a look it was.
He’d managed to find pants that fit him and that weren’t pink or white or sparkly. However, they were turquoise. Skintight, shiny, vinyl turquoise pants. And with that he wore a plain black T-shirt, except it was also skintight and had a low V-neck, exposing his lightly hairy chest. On his feet, he wore black flip-flops that were a little too small, so that his heels hung off the back, and there were silver metal studs along the straps.
Josie Lynn smiled despite herself. So he hadn’t totally avoided the studding.
“Drake,” Stella said, “you look so . . .”
“Fashion forward?” Katie suggested.
“That wasn’t exactly the description I would have gone for, but it will do,” Stella said, then laughed.
Katie smiled. Josie Lynn had already figured out the pretty blonde was too sweet to outright laugh at him. Josie Lynn didn’t have such qualms, but she did try to hide her amusement behind a hand.
“Laugh it up, ladies,” Drake said. “I can go back to wandering around with Mr. Big hanging out.”
He started to reach for the top button of the pants and all of them shouted, “No!”
He dropped his hands to hips. “Then don’t be mocking the look.”
Then to Josie Lynn’s utter surprise, he cat-walked over to join them, singing “I’m Sexy and I Know It.” She laughed again, as did the others. Clearly he didn’t really mind that they found his clothing amusing. He did, too. He may be arrogant, but he also didn’t take himself too seriously. She also learned that he couldn’t sing either.
He stopped his out-of-tune singing and asked how Zelda was. Then he crouched down to check Zelda, his fingers deftly finding her pulse. Again there was a confidence about him that Josie Lynn found very appealing.