“Party bus?” Eve said.
“Yeah, take a look.”
Ernie opened the back door, the part where the casket would have gone... and there was a floor in there, with lush black carpet, not metal runners or clamps as there would have usually been for coffins. He’d built in low-riding seats down both sides, two on each side, facing each other.
“I put in the cup holders,” he said. “I was going for the fold-down DVD screen, but I ran out of money.”
Eve, as though in a trance, reached in her pocket and pulled out the cash. She counted out three thousand dollars and passed it over to Ernie.
“Don’t you want to drive it first?” he asked.
“Does it run?”
“Yeah, pretty well.”
“Does it have air-conditioning?”
“Of course. Front and back.”
“Keys.” She held out her hand. Ernie held up one finger, ran back to the shack, and returned with a set dangling from one finger. He handed them to her with a smile.
Eve opened the front door and started up the hearse. It caught with a cough, then settled into a nice, even purr.
Eve stroked the steering wheel, and then she hugged it—literally. “Mine,” she said. “Mine, mine, mine.”
“Okay, this is starting to seriously creep me out,” Shane said. “Can we move past the obsessive weird love and into the actually driving it part?”
“You guys go on and take it out for a spin,” Ernie said. “I’ll get the paperwork ready for you to sign. Be about fifteen minutes.”
“Shotgun!” Shane said, one second before Claire. He winked at her. “And you get the Dead Guy Seat.”
“Funny.”
“Wait until there are actual dead guys sitting back there.”
It wasn’t safe to say that, not in front of Ernie and Linda; after a second, Claire saw Shane realize that. He blinked and said, “Well, maybe not. But it would be funny.”
“Hilarious,” Claire agreed, and went around to the back. Getting in was a bit of a challenge, but once she was sitting down, it felt kind of like what she imagined a limo would be. She looked around for a seat belt and found one, then strapped herself in. No sense dying in a car crash in a hearse. That seemed a little too tragically ironic even for Eve. “Hey, there really are cup holders.”
“Fate,” Eve said with a sigh.
“I’m not sure fate had to burn up your car to get the point across,” Shane said, buckling his own seat belt.
“No, not that. The hearse. I’m going to name it Fate.”
Shane stared at Eve for a long, long few seconds, then slowly shook his head. “Have you considered medication, or—”
She flipped him off.
“Ah. Back to normal. Excellent.”
Eve pulled the hearse around carefully, getting used to the size of the thing. “It probably gets crap gas mileage,” she said. “But damn. It’s so dark!”
Claire moved aside the white curtains to look out the back window as they drove past the front of the used car lot. Linda and Ernie were standing in front of the shack, waving, so she waved back. “I’m probably the first person to wave from back here,” she said. “That’s weird.”
“No, that is awesome. Awesome in the deliciously creepy sense. Okay, here we go, hold on...” Eve hit the gas, and the hearse leaped forward. Shane braced himself against the dash. “Wow. Nice. I thought it might only go, you know, funeral speed or something.”
“You’re not seriously naming this thing.”
“I am. Fate.”
“At least call it Intimidator. Something cool.”
“My car,” Eve said, and smiled. “My rules. You can go buy the pink one if you want.”
He shuddered and shut up.
Eve made the block without incident, and pulled the hearse back into the car lot about five minutes later, bumping it carefully up the drive and parking in front of the shack. As she switched the key off, she sighed and wiggled in the big leather seat in satisfaction. “This is the best road trip ever.”
Shane bailed out. Claire scrambled to slide out the back and found him waiting for her, grabbing her around the waist and helping her out. He didn’t let go immediately, either. That was nice, and she felt herself sway toward him, as if the world had tilted his direction. “I guess we’d better go in and make sure she doesn’t pay him even more money,” Shane said, “because you know she would, for this thing.”
“She’s a giver,” Claire agreed. “Also, maybe Linda’s got more of those cookies.”
“That’s a good point.”
Inside, they found Eve already signing the papers. Her driver’s license and proof of insurance were already on the table, and as Ernie said hello to the two of them, he gathered up her information and made a copy at the back of the office. It was small, and crowded, and pretty dusty. It looked as though Ernie was the only one who worked here, at least most of the time. Linda was leaning against the wall, staring out at the car lot through the big glass window. She looked pensive.
“Is there something wrong?” Claire asked her. Linda glanced at her, then shook her head.
“Probably nothing,” she said. “I just wonder why the sheriff hasn’t been around yet. He’s usually circling the town pretty regular, and he hasn’t been here yet. Deputy wasn’t at the sign, either. Strange.”
Ernie filled out the title and handed it over, along with the paperwork and Eve’s driver’s license and insurance. Eve juggled all the paper to shake hands with him, and he gave her a smile that was definitely flirting. “Thanks,” he said. “You staying in town long?”
“Oh—ah, no, I’m—we’re heading out. To Dallas. With my boyfriend.” Eve said it without too much emphasis, which was good; Claire didn’t think Ernie was a bad person or anything. And Eve was cute, even when she hadn’t made an effort to dress herself up Goth-style.
Ernie winced. “Should’ve seen that coming,” he said. “Well, enjoy the new ride, Eve. And don’t be a stranger.”
“No stranger than I am already,” she promised, straight-faced, and then they went out to admire the big black hearse again.
Linda moved straight past them to her own truck. “Hey,” Shane called. “How about breakfast? We were going to buy—”
“No need,” she said, and climbed into the cab. Through the open window she said, “I’m going to go see the sheriff, see if I can find out what the heck’s going on today. If I don’t see you kids before you go, have a safe trip. And thanks for livening up my week. Hell, my whole month, come to that.”
“No, thank you,” Shane said. “Your motel is great.”
She gave him a tight, quiet smile. “Always thought so,” she said. “Good-bye, now.”
She took off in a spray of gravel, raising plumes of dust as she skidded back onto the road. Ernie, who’d come out with them, sighed. “My grandma, the race car driver,” he said. “Have a good trip, now.”
They said their thanks, got into the hearse, and headed back to the motel.
They never got there. As they passed the town limits sign, and the road rose up a little in a mini-hill, Claire caught sight of flashing red and blue lights up ahead. “Uh oh,” she said. Eve hit the brakes, and she and Shane exchanged a look. “That’s the motel, right? They’re at the motel.”
“Looks that way,” Shane said. “This is not good.”
“Ya think?” Eve chewed her lip. “Call Michael.”
“Maybe they’re—”
“What, hanging out there looking for somebody else? Call him, Shane!”
Shane dialed the number of Michael’s cell phone, listened for a second, then closed his phone. “Busy,” he said. “We need to get in there.”
“And do what, exactly?”
“I don’t know! You want your boyfriend dragged out to french fry in the sun?”
Eve didn’t answer that. She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, looking agonized, and then said, “I’ll apologize later, then.”