Riding the Thunder - Deborah MacGillivray [54]
Asha waved at Delbert. “Close up for me, please. I’m off on a hot date with our counterfeiter.”
“Hot date? Counterfeiter?” Liam echoed, opening the front door for Netta.
“Hey, what about your cat, Jago?” Delbert called. “You want me to put him in your bungalow?”
“Stick him wherever you want. He’s not my cat.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The chubby black cat was stretched out on the Jeep’s dashboard, pretending to sleep. The only sign the thing was alive was an occasional snap of the long tail, generally when the speaker, hanging from the passenger window, grew too loud. The Haunted Palace reached the point whereVincent Price ties up Debra Paget as a sacrifice to the monster from the pit and then the growling creature comes for her. In true horror flick fashion, she screams—and screams! The feline opened one eye, glared at the speaker and then at Jago, with the telepathy of do something.
Asha finished the last of her food and washed it down with the icy Pepsi. Not that she’d been hungry, but after she mentioned the concession stand served a mean chili dog, Jago had insisted on having a couple. She gathered he was a bit of a junk food junkie. When he returned, he’d had one for her. Smart man. One whiff of the tantalizing aroma and she was thankful he’d gotten an extra—she might’ve pulled her gun on him and hijacked one.
The cat lifted his head and sniffed the air again.
“Don’t even think about it. You move, Fat Boy, and you’re going to fall off the dash,” Jago addressed the feline before he stuffed the remainder of his second hot dog into his sexy mouth.
“I’m not sure he’s comfortable there,” Asha commented. “The dash isn’t really wide enough for him.”
“The silly creature put himself up there. He can get down, climb into the back seat and stretch out, if he wants—after I finish eating. You were right—they are super chili dogs. I fear I could become addicted. Guess the good concession food is one of the reasons you’re packed even on a rainy night.”
“The drive-in fills a lot of bills. Parents and grandparents come to catch the magic of memories. Young people are finding it’s a neat place to hang out. It’s a super value. If you go into Lexington and see a movie at a cinema, it’s over eighteen dollars for a guy and a gal—just for the tickets. Then they soak you at the concession stand. Wisely, we keep prices reasonable. It’s one price for a carload. So two couples can double date and have plenty of treats for less than half the price of a cinema. Plus, you’re getting three movies instead of one. You don’t have to get dressed up. No need for a babysitter; the whole family can come. They can talk all they want without someone shushing them. A whole evening of entertainment instead of two expensive hours. It’s the best bargain going. Most of the younger people haven’t seen many of the old movies we show so they get a kick out of them.”
“Not to mention you can steam up the windows and ignore the movie, if you wish.” He laughed lowly.
“Hmm, there is that.” Thoughts of steaming up the windows with Jago suddenly saw her body temperature spike.
“How’s the setup? You still use films?” Jago seemed truly interested.
“No, we’re high-tech—DVD projection. I deal with a firm that packages the movies, and they have a large selection. They send us the intermission and movie lead-ins you used to see at the drive-ins in the ’60s—you know the one with the hot dog doing tricks? They even include old Woody the Woodpecker cartoons. The old way, you had to buy films outright or rent them. Shipping and handling was murder. This is so simple now. We plan ahead what we want, place our order and they are shipped in little packages, licenses all handled for us.”
“No worrying about the film breaking, eh?”
“Nope, the whole thing’s very efficient. In fact, they’re currently producing portable screens and offer them to places that have seasonal parking lots, such as fairgrounds, churches and lodges, big open spaces that aren’t used all the time. Halloween weekend we’ll close and won’t reopen until March.