4
Heckler Hates on (Bad) Elvis
Later that night, the manager of Tiaras gave Alex and I an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry. The show’s been canceled for the evening.”
I was really glad Wembley had opted to drive the three of us and was still parking.
“There’s no Elvis show? It was on your website.” This could not be happening. Not only would Wembley be crushed, but my crime-fighting, almost agoraphobic sidekick Bradley had agreed to leave his condo—miracle of miracles—to come with us.
Maybe Elvis hadn’t been able to sort out his legal woes in time to make his evening show. But really—a traffic ticket? They couldn’t still be holding the guy for that.
“And it was scheduled for this evening, but”—the manager of the venue leaned forward and lowered his voice—“we can’t find him.”
Ugh, I s
