Page 29 of A Leaner Meaner Midlife

“Roger that,” I replied. “Take them back to Tim and let him know what’s going on, please.”

“On it. They’re going to be pissed.”

“I’m sure they will be, but I’d much rather have them alive and pissed than dead and hanging out at our house for years to come… or permanently.”

“Holy shit,” he muttered with a pained chuckle. “I’ll be back shortly.”

“Where are we going?” Dimple asked, wildly confused as Gideon moved to usher them back down the hill.

“To Tim,” I told her. “You’ll be safer there.”

Lura Belle’s eyebrows shot up, and she pursed her lips. Even though she might look like a teenager, she was still the cat-butt lipped old lady deep down. “You’re making a mistake, mewling maggot-pie.”

“Not to worry,” Jolly Sue told her sister, giving me the stink-eye. “We’ll be back when you least expect it. Don’t forget we have a knob to gnaw.”

Lura Belle was astonished. “So you’re willing to chomp the chubby?”

“I am,” Jolly Sue announced.

They both turned to Dimple, crossed their arms over their chests and waited. “Fine,” she snapped. “I shall polish off the pecker. But hear me now… this is the last time I will ingest genitals. Period.”

We were starting to get funny looks from sketchy and armed passers-by. It was time to get the gals out of here.

Silently, and with some serious bad attitudes, they slipped away. I blew out an audible sigh of relief.

“Good thinkin’, fucker,” Candy said, patting me on the back. “If those old bats kept goin’ with the sixteenth century insults, Micky Muggles would have pegged us for sure.”

A zing of dread whipped through me. I hadn’t even considered that possibility. “They’re gone and safe.”

Gabe kept his eyes on the gathered crowd and scanned it constantly. I didn’t think Tory would be in attendance, but with the Dragon King, who knew.

“Are we really going to watch someone get beheaded for no good reason other than Micky Muggles is an egomaniacal assbag?” I asked Candy.

She spit her toothpick out of her mouth and pulled a fresh one from her pocket. “Nope. If it comes to it, I’ll chant a little spell that’ll freeze the guillotine. Not to worry.”

Again, I sighed in relief. I’d had some messed-up days, but this one took the cake for disconcerting.

Gabe didn’t look at us when he spoke. His eyes were now glued to Micky’s every move. “I say we follow the son-of-bitch after the failed beheading. It might lead us directly to where we want to be.”

“I’ll let the dead know to follow him too,” I added.

As if on cue, Gragraunch—or whatever his actual name was—appeared beside me.

“Haaaavah suuuurpriiiizeah,” he said, quivering with excitement.

“You found Gram and Mr. Jackson?” I asked the ghost.

“Yeeeesah!”

“Tory? The human Immortal? She has silver hair and was with Gram and Mr. Jackson.”

“Nooooooah. Soorrrryah.”

We were two thirds of the way there with being able to find Gram and Mr. Jackson. We were here for the juicy boner of justice. We’d find Tory too.

“Can you let the ghosts know where I am?”

“Yeeeesah!”

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