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.“Ooh, bad joke.”He winced.And then it hit her.Thunked her straight in the gut.“She didn’t dump you, did she?”He didn’t answer, but he didn’t need to.“Vampires almost always do the dumping, but in this case, you dumped her.And you let people believe she dumped you, whether from consideration—which is totally wasted on that slut—or self-preservation.”Jack sighed.“Some of both, I guess.”“She doesn’t really want you back,” Rose suddenly realized.“Judging by everything you and Vi have said about her, Titania would never put up with being dumped.She wants you dead.That’s why she was so furious at Biff.She wants to kill you herself.”Safe Juma might be, but she knew it was only for a moment or two.For that random cop on some other errand to notice Gil’s SUV and come tearing after it, Grandma must have already raised a huge stink.No way she could risk going to Violet’s place.Like any other adult, Violet was in cahoots with the cops.Juma shucked the suit jacket—Gil was right about that—and the paisley tie as well, and delved into the large compartment of her backpack for the only other long-sleeved item she had, a short jacket of beaded pink silk.She rolled the first jacket, stuffed it in the backpack along with the ties, and crept out from behind the bushes.Cautiously she made her way to the street, which was now jammed with traffic.To the right, a block or so down, the blue flashers of a cop car told her where Gil was trapped.Juma went left and slipped into the early-evening crowds.Clubs were beginning to open, but they would never let her in.She moved uneasily down the sidewalk, trying to match her pace to others, hoping for a group of girls her own age to trail behind.She wandered into a clothing shop behind a couple, pawed through a rack of designer jeans, and tried calling Jack.No answer, but as his message came on, the saleslady showed up, glowering the way salespeople always do at hesitant, furtive teens.Juma scowled back, clapped the phone shut, and left the store.She made the rounds of a souvenir shop and scuttled past a club and a bar.Next came a funky little Cajun restaurant.She steered past a busboy stacking the empty tables and chairs of the outdoor area, closed now as the evening chill set in, and hovered by the doorway, pretending to read the menu.What warned her of danger she didn’t know, but just as she opened the phone to call Jack again, something made her look around.Across the street, Stevie came out of a sex shop with a voluptuous woman dressed in purple, with long, wild black hair.The woman talked on a cell phone while Stevie ogled her cleavage.He probably couldn’t tear his eyes away, but just in case, Juma ducked into the restaurant ahead of the busboy with his stack of chairs.She shot a glance back out the door.The woman shut her cell, and she and Stevie went back into the shop.Ick.Juma chose a table near the rear of the half-full restaurant, partly concealed by an urn draped in fake ivy, with a view of the front door.The busboy folded the table umbrellas, came back inside for a chain, and secured the umbrellas to the wall outside.Juma scanned the menu without really looking.The busboy hovered by the sidewalk, speaking to a group of gesturing passersby.The waiter, a jaded-looking old dude, showed up.Juma ordered a bowl of gumbo and took a trip to the restroom to try Jack again, but Gil’s battery was at NO CHARGE, and before she could look up Jack’s number to try again from another phone, the cell died right before her eyes.She returned to her table.She couldn’t go back to Jack’s for fear of being caught.She couldn’t try other friends in town for the same reason.Her only hope was Rose, but what good was Rose against Grandma?The busboy returned wide-eyed and hurried into the kitchen.Outside, the whap-whap of a helicopter mingled with the sounds of traffic.A reporter with a microphone and a notebook scurried by in a suit and pumps, with a TV cameraman loping behind her.When Juma’s waiter arrived with the gumbo she asked him, “What’s going on out there?”He shrugged.“Nothing blown up into something, knowing the media.Maybe they got sick of hovering over the Impractical Cat, harassing Dufray.There oughta be a law.”“What did the busboy find out?” Juma tried to look innocently eager.“He came in a minute ago looking like he was bursting with juicy news.And a TV reporter just went by!”“You don’t want to know,” the waiter said in a fatherly voice.“Yes, I do.I’m not a baby.”“As far as I’m concerned, you are,” the waiter replied.“I’ve had about enough of kids coming here for dirty stories about what goes on in the Threshold.”Huh? “What’s eating you, mister? I’m not interested in any stupid club.I’m just wondering what’s going on out there.I’ll see it on the news anyway, so what’s your problem?”He sighed.“Something about a guy kidnapping kids to be sex slaves
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