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All Hail the Queen
Ratings:
346 pages5 hours
Summary
Autumn Goldleaf, drag queen extraordinaire, has just lost her fiancé, her mother, and the perfect job as headliner at Club Mon Cheri. Forced to travel back to her hometown in Wisconsin, Autumn removes the makeup and reassumes the persona of her youth: William, a seemingly average, uninspiring man. A childhood friend urges Autumn to attend a drag show at Queens nightclub. While most of the club’s entertainers are amateurish at best, young singer Misty Haze captures the drag superstar’s attention with his angelic voice and dime-store drag. When word gets out that Misty is missing, Autumn—along with her best friend and sister queen, Cookie La Ruse—sets off on a dangerous mission to locate the gifted singer. Enlisting the reluctant assistance of handsome detective, Zachary Baker, Autumn and Cookie discover that sometimes it takes talent, nerve, and a fabulous wardrobe to get the job done!
Publisher: Lulu Publishing ServicesReleased: Apr 10, 2019ISBN: 9781684700301Format: book
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All Hail the Queen - Stephanie Dargon Luce
LUCE
Copyright © 2019 Stephanie Dargon Luce.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted by any means—whether auditory, graphic, mechanical, or electronic—without written permission of the author, except in the case of brief excerpts used in critical articles and reviews. Unauthorized reproduction of any part of this work is illegal and is punishable by law.
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
ISBN: 978-1-6847-0031-8 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-6847-0029-5 (hc)
ISBN: 978-1-6847-0030-1 (e)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2019903570
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
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Lulu Publishing Services rev. date: 04/01/2019
FEBRUARY
P ietro Peter
Chianelli heard the sound of the bass long before he maneuvered his car into the parking lot of Club Mon Cheri. Smiling to himself, Peter checked his hair in the rearview mirror and pushed a stray curl back into place. A handsome, olive-skinned Italian with black, curly hair, dark bedroom eyes, and a winning smile, Peter had been on the radar of many a young man, but the handsome Italian only had eyes for one particular person. Exiting his vehicle, Peter patted his jacket pocket, assuring himself the ring he’d chosen weeks before was still there, retrieved two dozen red roses and a bottle of champagne from the back seat, and walked across the lot to the unlocked door that led backstage. Humming to the music coming from the interior of Club Mon Cheri, Peter knew that the love of his life, Autumn Goldleaf, would be going onstage in just a few short minutes. Peter had been planning tonight’s surprise for some time and had enlisted the aid of Francois, the club manager, and Autumn’s closest friend, Cookie La Ruse. Tonight, he was going to propose.
Autumn Goldleaf adjusted her headpiece and reached over to adjust Cookie’s, who in turn did the same for Sakura. Ain’t we just like one big happy family, y’all
Cookie drawled. As Jingle Bells and the scantily clad Beach Boys vacated the stage, Autumn and the rest of the finale’s performers got into position. Cookie, who had been born with a lovely tenor voice that had never changed, was first on stage. Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, y’all know what me and my girls want? That’s right, honey! We just want to have some fun!
As the music of Cindy Lauper began to play and the dance number began, Peter made his way to Autumn’s dressing room. Tapping lightly on the door, Peter waited a few moments and when he didn’t receive an answer, he knew the coast was clear. Putting the roses on Autumn’s dressing table, he took down two champagne flutes from an overhead cupboard, unwrapped the foil from the champagne bottle, and sat down to wait.
Girls Just Want to Have Fun should have been the closing number, but Francois and Cookie had agreed to give Peter a little extra time to prepare for Autumn’s big surprise. Francois had arranged in advance to have a friend in the audience who just happened to be celebrating a birthday. As a massive cake with flaming sparklers was rolled out onstage, Cookie urged the audience and entertainers to sing Happy Birthday.
This should have given Peter plenty of time to get ready,
Francois whispered to Cookie as he exited the stage.
Although she made every attempt to exit discreetly, Autumn found herself surrounded by a crush of glitter and scantily clad dancers. Cookie remained close to her friend, essentially blocking her exit until she was sure Peter had had enough time to get everything ready for the big moment.
After what seemed like a nightmare loop of the birthday song, Autumn squeezed through the waft of feathers and sweaty bodies and made her way back to the dressing room she shared with Cookie, Sakura, and Pussy Velour. Looking around, she realized that none of the other girls, not even Cookie, were making their usual mad dash to de-queen and leave the club.
Wrinkling her brow in consternation, she retraced her steps and spied a group of her friends surrounding Sakura.
What are you ladies up to?
Autumn asked suspiciously.
Why nothing, sugar!
Cookie replied with a wave of her hand. You go get changed. We’ll be right along.
Since Autumn was tired and could feel a headache coming on, she shrugged without commenting and headed back to her dressing room. Turning on the overhead light, it took a few seconds before Autumn made sense of what she was seeing. Seated in the room’s only armchair with his back to the door was the familiar head of curly, black hair she had come to love.
Peter, why are you sitting here in the dark?
she asked as she made her way to the dressing table, depositing the elaborate headpiece she had worn onstage. Peter, darling?
Thinking her boyfriend must have dozed off while waiting for her, Autumn walked over to the armchair and ruffled Peter’s hair. When he still hadn’t moved, she went around the chair to wake him with a kiss.
A fter Peter’s murder, Autumn set out to find his killer. She realized early on that the police weren’t going to make much of an effort, and after overhearing two detectives complain about the waste of manpower to discover who had killed the queer,
she knew she would have to take matters into her own hands.
After weeks of questioning drag queens, dancers, bartenders, backstage crew, and even some of the regular patrons, Autumn Goldleaf, with the help of Cookie, uncovered the motive, money and murderer, Francois Bertrand, of her beloved, Peter.
Mon Cherie’s manager, Francois Bertrand, realizing that he would soon be picked up by the police for Peter’s murder, wrote out his confession. Then, in a fit of remorse and a fear of prison, he stuck a garden hose in his car exhaust, locked himself in his garage, and committed suicide.
MAY
A utumn sat in the kitchen of her ultra-chic Fort Lauderdale apartment contemplating her options. I need to decide what the hell I am going to do,
she said to her dog, Sunshine. What do you think, girl? Do I go home and deal with this?
She waved a letter at the sleeping Yorkie. Or should I call my agent and see if there are any gigs available?
An hour later, Autumn was still sitting at the teal Formica table, drumming her beautifully manicured nails and staring at the letter in front of her.
Autumn’s mother had passed away six weeks earlier and the document before her was from her mother’s lawyer, Jon Durham. It was a confirmation of what Autumn already knew, that her mother, Deanna Meier, had left her modest two-bedroom house, her savings and her antique shop to her only child, William Meier.
Taking a deep breath and slapping her hands on the table, she pushed back her chair. It’s time to put Autumn away and take William out of the closet!
she declared with an unladylike snort that startled her sleeping pup.
Autumn headed to the bathroom where she proceeded to remove her makeup and draw a bath. Approximately two hours later, William emerged dressed in jeans, an old, faded T-shirt, and a pair of comfy loafers. Surveying his image in the hall mirror, William almost didn’t recognize himself. I have bags under my eyes and I look like crap,
he mumbled. Brushing his thick, honey blond hair off his forehead, he stared at his reflection. Blue eyes, the color of Robin’s eggs, stared back at him. I look more like Uncle Karl every day; a pale, nondescript white guy,
he moaned.
Shaking himself and muttering Get a grip,
he crossed the hall to his bedroom and pulled a large suitcase from the back of his overstuffed closet. Tossing it onto the bed, he grabbed his laptop from the nightstand, turned it on, and started making arrangements for a flight to Wisconsin.
But, darlin’, what will you do there?
wailed Cookie, plopping herself down on William’s bed in exaggerated frustration. Cookie and Autumn had worked together at Mon Cherie and had become close friends and good-natured rivals. The Southern queen, who outweighed William by a good fifty pounds and was several inches shorter, was just as fierce and fashionable as her friend and rival. Cookie, whose real name was Jeffrey Dupres, was a Southerner through and through having been born and raised in Gay, Georgia. On this particular occasion, Cookie was wearing one of her favorite outfits, a vintage 1980s Bob Mackie knock-off that consisted of a two-piece, black beaded cocktail dress and bolero. Cookie insisted it was the real deal, but William knew that Cookie’s granny could make an exact duplicate of just about any dress. Besides, William doubted that Bob Mackie made dresses for two-hundred-pound men or women! Still, it was a fabulous outfit and it suited Cookie, so who cared if it was a knock-off?
William didn’t look up but continued the careful packing of his wardrobe. Since Peter’s death, Francois’s suicide, and Mon Cheri’s closing, I just feel like I need to get away for a while. Besides, I need to handle Mom’s affairs, and I might as well take care of things while I am unemployed,
William said, trying to hold back the tears.
Cookie reached over and grabbed William’s hand. Look, girl, I know you feel the need to get away. We all miss Peter, and it was a nightmare to go through. But take a vacation. Go on a cruise or fly to Aruba, but don’t quit us altogether,
she pleaded, continuing without taking a breath. Girl, we could open a club! I have a little money tucked away. You could headline – we could headline! I know some of the other girls would die for a new place to work, so we wouldn’t have any trouble getting a few acts started. I mean, how hard can it be to open a club?
William stopped packing and sat down on the edge of the bed. He held a beautiful red-lace sheath with long lace sleeves, a cutout heart in the back, and a lace court train.
This was Peter’s favorite,
he said, a tear escaping and sliding down his cheek as he held the beautiful gown to his chest. ‘You set the world on fire in that dress’, he’d always say to me. God, I miss him so much, Cookie! I just have to get away!"
I know you do, sweetie, but please, just take a few weeks off. Go to Wisconsin, take care of your mama’s business, but don’t make any rash decisions. Okay?
When William didn’t respond, Cookie took his hand and said, Promise me you won’t do anything rash?
I promise,
William replied with a sigh.
Good! Now please tell me why you are packing your best dresses if you are planning on coming back? Honey, give me that.
Removing the stunning red gown from William’s grasp, Cookie hung it back in the closet. There is no place for you to wear any of these dresses unless you’re planning to dress up for the cows. You aren’t, are you?
she asked, half joking. With the mood Autumn is in, you just never know what the queen might do, she thought.
No, girl, you’re right. I’ll go home for a few weeks, take care of Mom’s estate, then when I get back maybe you and I can see about opening our own club.
That’s more like it, sugar! Besides, apart from the fact that you were the second-best performer at Mon Cheri, what other skills do you have?
This last statement drew a tentative smile from her friend.
You know, Cookie, since Peter’s murder, I haven’t been able to think straight, and then just when I started feeling better, Mom took sick and died.
I know you have had a rough year, girl. But I also know that your mama would not approve of you moping around like doom and gloom. I swear, she would have kicked you in your sorry behind and told you to get on with your life.
You’re right about that, kitten,
he replied, and after a brief pause said, Okay, I will go and see Mom’s lawyer, deal with the house and her business, and when I get back you and I will start looking at some real estate.
Thank you, Jesus!
exclaimed Cookie, extracting another gown from William’s suitcase and hanging it back in the closet. By the way, sugar, are there even any gay people in Wisconsin?
Shade, girl, shade!
After a restless night, William rose early, showered and dressed in jeans, loafers, and a pale blue polo shirt. He realized that he hadn’t eaten dinner the night before and hadn’t eaten much at all over the course of the last week. William knew that it wouldn’t do to lose more than a pound or two if he was still going to perform, especially seeing as how most of Autumn’s dresses were form-fitting, and he would hate to have to use more than the minimum amount of padding. Smoothing back his hair, he made his way to the kitchen in search of something to eat. He didn’t have anything in the fridge except condiments and a bottle of wine, and the cupboards were pretty bare as well. I’ll wait until I’m through security then I’ll grab a latte and a bagel, he told himself after opening the cupboards repeatedly as if something edible would appear by magic.
For the umpteenth time, William looked out the window, anxiously awaiting his friend to pull into the parking lot. Cookie was notorious for being late, but much to William’s surprise, she arrived with plenty of time to spare. William watched as Cookie parked her pink Jeep in front of his apartment building. Smiling, he watched as she hopped out of her vehicle and headed for the front door.
For a big girl, she sure is graceful,
he said to Sunshine who had been sitting on the windowsill and whose tail began wagging furiously at the sight of her second favorite playmate. Before Cookie could knock, William opened the door and surveyed the cotton candy sweetness that stood before him. Resplendent in a hot pink jumpsuit, white and pink tennis shoes, hoop earrings that hung down to her shoulders, and a Saint Laurent fuchsia suede bucket bag, Cookie twirled around.
You like?
she cooed.
How much did that set you back, girl?
William said pointing to the beautiful bag.
Sugar, please! My mama did not raise a fool. I got this bag on eBay for a song.
William smiled fondly at his friend. Just let me do a quick walk-through and then we can go,
he called back to Cookie as he checked his apartment one last time. Cookie reached for William’s suitcase that had been left sitting next to the front door exclaiming, What in all that’s holy do you have in this thing? A body? It weighs a ton!
Laughing, William ushered Sunshine into her Sherpa bag and hoisted her onto his shoulder. Lifting his carry-on bag, he glanced at Cookie over his shoulder as he turned the key in the lock. Just a few essentials. You know a girl has got to be prepared!
William was grateful for Cookie’s rapid-fire chatter as they made their way to the Fort Lauderdale-Hollywood airport. Her amusing stories and impersonations of their friends and former co-workers helped keep William’s mind off the fact that he hated flying.
You know, girl, that Cherie Blossom is lucky somebody doesn’t scratch her eyes out. I heard from Dahlia that Cherie put the moves on Sakura’s boyfriend last night at Club Homme and Sakura beat the hell out of her. Girl, you don’t mess around with the boyfriend of a bi-atch that has a black belt in karate! Oh, and did I tell you that they are doing a casting call for RuPaul’s Drag Race? I would love to audition! RuPaul is the bomb! Have you ever seen such fabulous wigs and gowns in your life? I love Santino! I think he is hot, don’t you?
Cookie paused for a breath, giving William a chance to ask, Are you thinking of trying out?
Yeah, sugar, I think I might have a good chance. You have to send in an audition tape and then they call you in for a live audition. I heard there are lots of rules you have to follow, but it would be worth it, don’t you think? You know Leilani Jones, don’t you? I heard she was going to try out too. I hope she don’t! That lady-boy is too fierce for words, but she is meaner than a snake! She got into it with that San Francisco pageant girl, uh, you know who I mean. What’s her name?
Priscilla,
William said.
Yeah, her. She said Leilani wore junkyard couture. Leilani told her she better pack up her back roll and get her cellulite self to the gym! Oops! I almost missed our exit!
Cookie exclaimed. With a wrench of the wheel and squealing tires, she cut in front of another driver who honked his horn and flipped her off.
Although parking at the airport was always a nightmare, Cookie lucked out and found a spot right in front of the entrance for departures. Guiding her pink Jeep alongside the curb, Cookie jumped out from behind the steering wheel and helped William unload his luggage. Taking her friend by the hand, Cookie said, I’d go in with you, girl, but I got to get to the gym. I ate a whole box of those Girl Scout cookies yesterday. They call them De-lites, but they have just as many calories as the regular cookies. Besides, you know how much I hate goodbyes.
Pausing, Cookie added, You gonna be okay?
William smiled and hugged Cookie Of course, I’ll be fine. I’ll go through security, grab a latte, and read until it’s time to board.
Cookie leaned in and kissed William on both cheeks saying in an unusually thoughtful and much less Southern voice, Text me when you land so I don’t spend the whole day worrying, and call me if you want to talk. Love you, girl! Love you, sunshine!
William watched as Cookie pulled out in front of another driver, waving as she went.
Having checked his bag and gone through security, William grabbed a chai latte at one of the many airport cafés and shared a piece of his scone with Sunshine while they waited for the boarding call. Perusing the shops, he tried not to think of Peter and the last trip they had taken together. Giving himself a mental head slap, he focused instead on purchasing a few souvenirs for his uncle, aunt, and cousins. He also bought himself a bag of gummy bears and a magazine.
Thank God I don’t have to worry about my weight like Cookie and so many of my friends. They always seem to be following the latest fad diet and spending a fortune on gym memberships, he thought as he munched on a gummy bear.
Having boarded the plane and found his seat, William checked that Sunshine was as comfortable as the small space allowed, and selected a music station. After adjusting his headphones and buckling his seatbelt, he sat back and tried to focus on his magazine, but to no avail. William was a white-knuckle flyer. He found the ascent unnerving but thought he could cope if that were the only bit of flying that frightened him. In truth, it was the turbulence that truly terrified him. He hated drugs, but in the case of flying he made an exception and took a pill from the bottle he had stowed in the seat pocket in front of him. The medication helped calm his nerves and sometimes allowed him to sleep a bit during a flight. But even with the relaxant, he gripped the armrest tightly, thankful that the seat next to him was empty, sparing him the pitying looks this action usually evoked. Eventually, he fell asleep.
William jerked awake just as the plane touched down on the tarmac in Chicago. He felt slightly disoriented and a bit groggy, wishing once again that he could get over his fear of flying. Luckily, the cabin wasn’t full, and a friendly flight attendant helped by retrieving his carry-on bag while he extricated Sunshine’s Sherpa bag from under the seat and checked that his dog was alright. Poking her head through the open zipper, Sunshine licked William’s hand and accepted a pat on the head and a treat before William closed the bag and hung it from his shoulder. Stuffing his headphones and other belongings into his pocket, he exited the plane’s ramp and entered the O’Hare Airport terminal where he checked the monitors for his connecting flight to Madison. As luck would have it, his next flight boarded just a few gates away. Having a couple of minutes to spare, William stepped inside one of the airport bookstores and browsed the shop’s limited selection of literature. Although he told himself he didn’t need another book, William purchased two paperbacks that were on the bestsellers list.
The trip from Chicago to Madison took less than an hour, and the turbulence was mercifully short-lived. As William made his way down the escalator toward the baggage area, he spotted his Uncle Karl’s gray hair and tall, lanky figure. Standing next to his uncle with his hands in his pockets was William’s younger cousin, Robbie. Uncle Karl, never comfortable with hugging, shook William’s hand while Robbie, a handsome younger version of his father, said Hey
in that mono-syllabic way teenagers have, and after a nudge from his father, shook William’s hand as well. After retrieving his suitcase from the baggage carousel, William followed his uncle and cousin out to the parking ramp where Uncle Karl had parked his wife’s new car. Upon seeing his Aunt Louise’s car rather than his uncle’s old rusty pickup truck, William breathed a sigh of relief.
Once they exited the parking ramp, William sent Cookie a text to let her know he had made it safely to Madison. Uncle Karl was never much for conversation while behind the wheel, preferring to keep his eyes on the road for most of the drive so William was somewhat surprised when his uncle started asking him questions.
How long you home for, Billie?
his uncle asked using William’s childhood nickname. Any plans to move back to Madison and reopen your mom’s store?
I’m not exactly sure, Uncle Karl. I need to see Mr. Durham before I decide what to do about the house and the store.
Well, you’re welcome to stay with us if you don’t want to stay at your mother’s house. Your Aunt Louise is planning on you having dinner with us tonight, and the boys have doubled up so you can have one of their rooms. Also, just in case you need it, I pulled the tarp off your old truck and parked it in the driveway. Robbie cleaned it up for you.
Yeah,
said Robbie grinning, it was full of mouse poop and straw, and the red paint is all faded.
Oxidized,
corrected Uncle Karl.
Thank you for getting the truck out of the barn for me and for cleaning it up. That was really nice of you both.
William had been planning on using his mother’s sedan during his stay. It certainly would be preferable to a mouse infested, manure smelling, oxidized old pickup, even after it had been cleaned.
Maybe I’ll give Robbie the pickup, he thought to himself as he gazed out of the window at the budding trees and freshly plowed fields that dotted the Wisconsin landscape. After a few miles, Uncle Karl turned off the highway and drove past the boarded-up structure that had once housed the Landau Brothers Nursery.
When did Landau’s close down, Uncle Karl?
William asked.
A couple of years ago, right after old Tom Landau passed away. His kids are all in their sixties and seventies, and his grandkids didn’t want it. They tried selling it, but no takers. Too remote is my guess.
William thought of the nursery and the springs he’d spent delivering large containers of flowers and vegetable plants to the store from the Landau’s farm. When business picked up in May, William would work after school and on weekends, and once school let out, he’d work all summer long. William had purchased the red pickup truck secondhand at the beginning of his senior year. He’d worked and saved every penny for three summers in order to buy that truck and arrive in style on the first day of his last year of high school. How proud he had been rolling that shiny red truck into Thomas Jefferson High’s parking lot!
He fondly remembered old man Landau, a small, wiry, hardworking farmer who provided summer employment for many generations of youth in the area and who had supported the athletic programs at William’s high school. He remembered the rainy spring afternoons when he’d arrive at work to find the old man knee deep in mud or driving his old tractor shirtless, enjoying the sun’s rays. William smiled to himself as he remembered what now seemed like a lifetime ago.
Uncle Karl remained silent for the rest of the drive and Robbie had turned his attention back to his phone. Staring out the window, William was reminded of what his life had been like growing up as a gay child in rural Wisconsin. It had been his father who had insisted he sign up for wrestling when he was in the sixth grade after William came home crying because an older boy on the bus ride home had called him a fagot.
He could almost hear his father’s voice patiently explaining to his wife the many reasons why their young son needed a rough and tumble sport like wrestling. Although his mother was less than thrilled, she had reluctantly agreed that her boy ought to be able to defend himself. In hindsight, William realized his parents had recognized their son’s uniqueness even before he did. At first, young William had hated the idea and had objected vehemently, but after being bullied again, this time
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