Harley Jean Davidson 03 - Evil Elvis by Virginia Brown Read Free Book Online Page A

would appreciate it right now.”
     
    “Yeah, so I heard. Lydia didn’t like it too much either.”
     
    “Let the group know that we’re sending vans for them, and that there’ll be no charge. We sure don’t need to scare away paying customers. Two dead guys in two days isn’t at all good for business.”
     
    “Can’t say it’s done me any good either.”
     
    Harley hung up and made sure the van’s air conditioner was full blast to cool off the group, then went to assure Lydia’s group, huddled close to the yellow crime scene tape, that they’d soon be returned to their hotel.
     
    “Your day is comped for your inconvenience,” she added, “courtesy of Memphis Tour Tyme. Please wait for your ride to the hotel in the coffee shop, and we’ll get you safely back.”
     
    By the time she got back to Graceland for them, Charlsie had picked up those she could. The ones left behind had indulged in a few beers and were feeling fine. One of them, a rather chunky guy who was obviously feeling no pain, sat up front with her since there was no more room in the back. She didn’t normally allow that, but this guy seemed genial enough, good-natured and not belligerent, and since there wasn’t room for him in the back, she was out of options anyway.
     
    “I shoulda known something was wrong with that guy,” he said once the van was on the interstate headed for their hotel. “He acted kinda weird.”
     
    “What guy? Oh, you mean the dead man? Most Elvis impersonators act a little weird.” My father not excluded, she thought wryly.
     
    “Naw, it wasn’t that. Didn’t want to share his seat. Acted like he’d get robbed or hit in the head. Put up a little fuss until the other guy said something to him, and then he settled down all right.”
     
    “Did you tell this to the police?”
     
    “No, didn’t think about it. Maybe I should have, huh? Was the dead guy sick?”
     
    Harley thought for a moment. Apparently he didn’t know that the dead Elvis had been stuck in the neck with a penknife. How had he been killed so quietly and without anyone noticing? It took a lot of nerve to do something like that in a bus full of tourists—nerve, or insanity. Or maybe a little bit of both.
     
    “So he knew the other guy?” she asked, and the tourist shrugged. “Couldn’t tell. No one else knew him, but we didn’t know either of them anyway.”
     
    “Wait—weren’t they part of your group?”
     
    “Never saw ’em before. Figured they were just along for the ride.”
     
    Just like the extra guy had been along for the ride in her van. That was very interesting.
     
    “Can you give me a description?” she asked.
     
    “Black hair, long sideburns, white jumpsuit—”
     
    “No, not the dead man, a description of the other guy.”
     
    “I just told you. Black hair, long sideburns, white jumpsuit, and gold chains.”
     
    “Both of them were Elvis impersonators?”
     
    “Yeah. Maybe that’s how they knew each other.”
     
    Sounded logical.
     
    “But what’s weirder,” he said in a bit of a slur, “is that only one of them was s’posed to be on the bus. If that twitchy gal’s right, that is.”
     
    “Twitchy?”
     
    “Yeah, the skinny little driver. She’s kinda excitable.”
     
    Good description for Lydia.
     
    “Did she say one of the Elvises wasn’t supposed to be on there?”
     
    “Not exactly, but she kept reading over that list on her clipboard and doing a head count when we got to Graceland. Like it wasn’t coming out right.”
     
    “Where was the other Elvis?”
     
    “Don’t know. He got off the bus with the rest of us—except for the guy that died—but there were a lot of other Elvises around there, so I guess he just joined up with them. Some kind of concert under a tent.”
     
    After a moment, Harley said, “You really need to tell all this to the police.”
     
    “Sure. If you think it’s important. Can’t see why though.”
     
    “It’s important.” Let