Cat in a Jeweled Jumpsuit

“I suppose it's possible."

“You'll be as safe as in your own living room. We're fully on to this scheme now. I wouldn't ask you if I weren't sure we could protect you.”

Temple read absolute conviction in his eyes, but no one could promise immortality. She nodded. She had a horrible feeling Quincey would try to resume her role if Temple didn't take it, and Temple had promised Merle to look out for Quincey.

She just hadn't expected to do it in the persona of Priscilla Presley.

Chapter 53

Catchin' on Fast

(From 1964's Kissin' Cousins)

Temple poked her head in the various dressing rooms, hunting Full Spectrum Elvis and casting her eye over likely suspects: Velvet Elvis, for instance, looking like the Melancholy Dane. She was big enough to manhandle an unwary Elvis, and big enough to be a transsexual. Now that was a thought. Maybe she was, somebody had found out, and she'd been blackmailed into murder to avoid being disqualified from the competition, though Temple didn't quite see why or how transsexuals would be barred.

Mike and Jerry were still best buddies despite the looming pressure of competition, exchanging grooming essentials, and looking nervous. Wasn't Jerry from New Jersey, a storied if stereotypical Mob bastion? Sometimes stereotypes, like fairy tales, can come true.

Oh, and there was Kenny, eager-beaver Kenny, so quick on the scene of the jumpsuit murder.

Not to mention a whole raft of other Elvis impersonators.

Full Spectrum Elvis was not in the below-stage area, so Temple was forced to clomp up the backstage stairs to hunt them down.

She found them massed in the wings at stage right, watching a sincere but uninspired Elvis perform the difficult American Trilogy medley of "Dixie," "The Battle Hymn of the Republic," and "All My Trials."

“Speaking of 'trials . " Motorcycle jerked his head at the guy onstage as soon as she spotted them. "We gotta run through our act after that. Anything going on downstairs? We heard, ah, whining."

“You heard right. Quincey had another crisis." Elvi gathered around, glittering.

“How so?" Rhinestone Lapels wanted to know.

“The Priscilla wedding gown was slashed to smithereens, well, rags, anyway. Quin's mother had heard about the murdered impersonator and took the attack on the dress as a last straw. She was ready to jerk Quincey from the show."

“Aw," came the chorus. The brothers Fontana, even in unrecognizable guise, at least had the grace to sound disappointed.

“But Quincey talked her out of it," Temple added quickly. "And you have someone more vital to guard now."

“How so?" asked Oversized.

“Your endearing emcee, Crawford Buchanan, is convinced the late Elvis impersonator was really the late Elvis, that someone killed Lyle Purvis because of it, and that now that someone will kill him, Crawford, because he too 'knows' it.”

A silence greeted this theory, during which they could all hear a really dreadful version of "Suspicious Minds" filling the stage.

“You want us to watchdog the Crawf?”

Temple laughed at their hound-dog-long Elvis faces. "Guess you heard Quin discussing her adored stepdaddy. Yeah, watch to make sure he doesn't fall apart on stage and ruin the show for all the genuine impersonators who are not Elvis, really."

“Purvis." Cane-and-Cape lifted the former, and tossed back the latter. "Not such a far-fetched idea. The guy had something."

“Maybe, but do you think someone would kill to win a contest, or to keep Elvis dead?"

“In this crowd," Fifties said, surveying his clones backstage, "anything is possible, including the impossible."

“Do not worry," Oversized assured her. "We will watch the little weasel like hawks."

“Are you going to stay now to watch our act rehearse?" Karate asked eagerly.

“I can't. I promised a friend I'd stay out of the field of fire," she answered mendaciously.

Mendaciously was one of those long, not-readilyknown words that made lies sound like something naughty but noble. The fewer people who knew who the real fake Priscilla was tomorrow night, the better. That was where she disagreed with FBI-man Bucek.

“Meanwhile, once you get off, do you think you can dig up a new bridal outfit for Quincey?"

“We got these swell costumes in no time flat, didn't we?" Rhinestone Elvis waggled his glittering lapels. "I want that cut down to my size after this is over," Temple said, narrowing her eyes.

“I don't know, Miss Temple." Oversized twinkled his Elvis-blue eyes. "We might be too fond of our personas to pass them on."

“Just pass on the name of your tailor, which I already know. But I'll see you in all your onstage glory tomorrow night. I'm sure I won't be able to keep Electra from dragging me to the actual show. What exactly is your act?"

“We do a medley of song titles." Fifties struck a guitar-twanging pose.

“One Elvis, one title," said Karate, leaping into a deadly stance.

“Oh, really.”