The Lust Lizard of Melancholy Cove - By Christopher Moore Page 0,81

the cafe? He hadn't been able to figure out the electric seat adjustment on the Mercedes, so he was driving with his knees up around the wheel anyway, but now he had an eighty-pound dog in his lap and he had to whip his head from side to side to keep Burton's Caddy in sight.

The Caddy made an abrupt turn off the highway and it was all Theo could do to get the Mercedes around the corner without screeching the tires. By the time he could see around Skinner's head again, the Caddy was stopped only fifty yards ahead. Theo ducked quickly onto the passenger seat and tried to call on THE FORCE to steer as they passed the Caddy.

The Sheriff

Sheriff John Burton was prepared for a confrontation with DEA agents, he was prepared for a high-speed escape, he was even prepared for a shoot-out with Mexican drug dealers, if it came to that. He prided himself on being tough and adaptable and thought himself superior to other men be-cause of his cool response to pressure. He was, however, not prepared to see a Mercedes cruise by with a Labrador retriever at the wheel. His Uber-mensch arrogance shriveled as he stared gape-jawed at the passing Mercedes. It made an erratic turn at the next corner, bouncing off a curb before disap-pearing behind a hedge.

He wasn't the sort of man who doubted his own perceptions - if he saw it, he saw it - so his mind dropped into politician mode to file the experi-ence. "That right there," he said aloud, "is why I will never support a bill to license dogs to drive."

Still, political certainties weren't going to count for much if he didn't get to Betsy Butler and find out what had happened to his prized drug mule. He pulled a U-turn and headed back to the Coast Highway, where he found himself looking a little more closely than usual at the drivers in oncoming cars.

Molly

There were thirty of them all together. Six stood side by side at the cave entrance; the rest crowded behind them, trying to get a look inside. Molly recognized the one doing the talking, she was the ditzy waitress from H.P.'s cafe. She was in her mid-twenties, with short blonde hair and a figure that promised to go pear-shaped by the time she hit forty. She wore a white choir robe over jeans and aerobics shoes.

"You're Betsy from H.P.'s, right?" Molly asked, leaning on her broadsword.

Betsy seemed to recognize Molly for the first time, "You're the craz - "

Molly held up her sword to hush the girl. "Be nice."

"Sorry," said Betsy. "We've been called. I didn't expect you to be here."

Two women stepped up beside Betsy, the pastel church ladies that Molly had chased away from the dragon trailer. "Remember us?"

Molly shook her head. "What exactly do you all think you are doing here?"

They looked to each other, as if the question hadn't occurred to them before this. They craned their necks and squinted into the cathedral chamber to see what was behind Molly. Steve lay curled up in the dark at the back of the chamber, sulking.

Molly turned and spoke to the back of the chamber. "Steve, did you bring these people here? What were you thinking?"

A loud and low-pitched whimper came out of the dark. The crowd at the entrance murmured among themselves. Suddenly a man stepped for-ward and pushed Betsy aside. He was in his forties and wore an African dashiki over khakis and Birkenstocks, his long hair held out of his face with a beaded headband. "Look, man, you can't stop us. There's something very special and very spiritual happening here, and we're not going to let some crazy woman keep us from being part of it. So just back off."

Molly smiled. "You want to be a part of this, do you?"

"Yeah, that's right," the man said. The others nodded behind him.

"Fine, I want you all to empty your pockets before you come in here. Leave your keys, wallets, money, everything outside."

"We don't have to do that," Betsy said.

Molly stepped up and thrust her sword into the ground between the girl's feet. "Okay then, naked." Molly said.

"What?"

"No one comes in here unless they are naked. Now get to it."

Protests arose until a short Asian man with a shaved head shrugged off his saffron robes, stepped forward, and bowed to Molly, thus mooning the rest of the group.

Molly shook her head dolefully at the monk. "I thought you guys had more