“Bitchin’,” Slim said.

“Might be bitchin’ if we could see her,” I said, trying to seem gloomy about the situation. “But there’s no way we can get into a show like that.”

Eyes narrow, Rusty shook his head. “That’s how come we’re going over there now.”

“Oh,” I said.

Sometimes, when Rusty came out with stuff like that, “Oh” was about the best I could do.

“You know?” he asked.

“I guess so.” I had no idea.

“We’ll look the place over,” Slim said. “Just see what we can see.”

“Maybe we’ll get to see her,” Rusty said. He seemed pretty excited.

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Slim told him.

“We might,” he insisted. “I mean, she’s gotta be around. Somebody put all those posters up, you know? And the show is tonight. They’re probably over at Janks Field getting things ready right now.”

“That’s probably true,” Slim said. “But don’t count on feasting your eyes on the gorgeous and stunning Valeria.”

He blinked at Slim, disappointment and vague confusion on his face. Then he turned his eyes to me, apparently seeking an ally.

I looked at Slim.

She raised both eyebrows and one comer of her mouth.

The goofy expression made me ache and laugh at the same time. Forcing my eyes away from her, I said to Rusty, “The gal’s a vampire, moron.”

“Huh?”

“Valeria. She’s supposed to be a vampire.”

“Yeah, so?” he asked, as if impatient for the punch line.

“So you think we’re gonna maybe sneak up on Janks Field and catch her sunbathing?”

“Oh!”

He got it.

Slim and I laughed. Rusty stood there, red in the face but bobbing his head and chuckling. Then he said, “She’s gotta be in her casket, right?”