"Michelle," Randy babbled, still staring at the radio. "Her name's Michelle. I don't even know her last name—she's a friend of Debbie Hathaway's. She's in the pond back at the body shop."
I breathed a silent sigh of relief, and looked at Joe. He flicked his eyes toward where he'd left his car, and I got the message; time for all good ghouls to hit the road.
I wanted to celebrate, to throw my arms around him and kiss him to thank him for helping me, but now was not the time. Instead, I ducked down and scrambled away as quietly as I could. Once I was far enough away, I stood up and took off at a run toward the One-Stop Body Shop.
Joe could handle it from here, I had no doubt.
But the evening wasn't over yet. I was at the hose, quickly wiping the mud from my face and arms with Joe's newly rinsed t-shirt when Michelle showed herself one final time.
Or tried to show herself, anyway. Her form was hazy, indistinct, and I couldn't help but be a little relieved; she'd been looking pretty bad since she knew she'd been murdered, and I didn't want to see any more. I'd had enough of a creep show for one evening.
"Something's happening to me," Michelle said. Even her voice sounded fuzzy. "I feel like I have to be somewhere, but I'm not sure where it is."
I smiled, knowing the place Michelle was being drawn to was a good place. "It's okay, Michelle." I kept my voice gentle. "It's time for you to go now. Just close your eyes and let go, and all of this will seem like a bad dream. Only this time, when you wake up, it will be to a better place."
It would be in the Light, which was a very good place, indeed. I wasn't sure I had the words to describe it, but I didn't really need to. Michelle would find out soon enough. I couldn't believe that the innocent victim of such a horrible crime would go anywhere else.
"Nice trick with the radio, by the way," I added.
"Thanks."
I could hear the smile in her voice, and it made me happy.
"Could you do me one final favor?"
Repressing a tired sigh, I answered, "Sure."
"I don't want Debbie thinking that I died mad at her," Michelle said. "I know her…if we leave things on a sour note, she'll blame herself for what happened to me. If I told you what to say, would you say it?"
Great—how was I supposed to do that? Walk up to Debbie at her wedding and tell her I had a message from the "other side"? Par for the course, I suppose. How ironic that in a family of rednecks, I'd managed to become the one everybody considered strange.
Hell, I'd figure something out.
With a shrug, I said, "What do you want me to tell her?"
Chapter 7
"Calm down, Debbie," Darlene said. "Just because that idiot Randy had to get himself busted up and in the hospital right before the wedding doesn't mean the wedding's ruined." She shot me a look over Debbie's head as she was adjusting her sister's veil.
Darlene was the only one who knew the truth about why Randy wasn't here. I'd called her yesterday and asked her to meet me for coffee—then I'd told her what happened in the parking lot of the Long Branch Saloon when Randy'd attacked me. I'd fudged about why Joe and I had followed Randy to the One-Stop Body Shop, claiming it was because he was so drunk we were worried about him causing an accident, but I'd told the truth about how Randy, afraid he was about to die, had confessed to murdering Michelle. I'd appealed to Darlene's sisterly instincts, getting her to agree that Debbie didn't need to know the dirty details about Michelle until after she and Dale got back from their honeymoon.
Truth be told, I'd done it more for Michelle's sake than Debbie's—it had been Michelle's last wish to not ruin her best friend's wedding, and I'd done my best to honor that.
Darlene had surprised me; she'd shed a few genuine tears for Michelle before she'd blistered my ears with some well-deserved names for Randy, a few of which I'd never heard before. Then she'd picked up the phone and taken things one step further—her defensive instincts had kicked into high gear, and she wasn't about to let her baby sister's wedding be ruined. It turned out that she used to date the Hogansville Chief of Police, and she'd called in a favor by asking him to keep news of Randy's arrest under wraps until after the wedding. Hard to do in a small town like Hogansville, but the now-married chief didn't stand a chance against a determined Darlene. As far as Debbie and everyone else knew, Randy was in the hospital after wrapping his truck around a tree, period. Anybody who spilled the beans about Michelle's murder before the wedding was going to have a pissed-off red-haired spitfire on their hands.
Darlene was still breathing fire a day later in the dressing room in the back of the church, though she'd used up most of it on the florist, who'd showed up late to decorate. To Debbie, however, she'd been nothing but sweet, helping her dress and fussing over her like a mother hen.
"But now the procession is ruined," Debbie fretted. "There's four bridesmaids and only three groomsmen; even if Nicki walks down by herself, the ceremony will end up lopsided, and so will the pictures afterward."
I seized my chance. "I don't mind not being in the wedding, Debbie. If I dropped out, the wedding party would be even again." I waved a hand toward the pink sundress and sandals I was wearing. "I'm not even dressed yet, so it's no big deal." I'd put off wearing the ugly yellow dress until the last possible second, and it looked like it might pay off.
Darlene shot me a sardonic, knowing glance, but kept her mouth shut.
Unfortunately, Aunt Nadine, who'd been fussing over the bridal bouquets, was not about to let me off the hook. "Of course you're going to be in the wedding, Nicki. You're family. I only wish my sister Emily had lived to see this day." Aunt Nadine's lip quivered, and I knew I was sunk. "All five of our girls together, sharing this joyous occasion."
Crap.
Easy for Aunt Nadine to talk; she looked pretty in rose-colored silk, while I had to wear one of the most hideous bridesmaid dresses I'd ever seen. "You'd better get moving, Nicki; the wedding starts in ten minutes."
The atmosphere in the tiny dressing room at the back of the church was hectic—it was crammed to the gills with women in various stage of undress. Aunt Nadine bent to help my niece Brittany, who made a cute flower girl, while Donna and Diane bickered over whose hat belonged to who.
"Everything will be fine, Debbie," Darlene said, sliding home the final hairpin that held her sister's veil in place. The yellow bridesmaid dress I hated looked surprisingly good on her, which tipped me off as to who'd picked it out. The yellow hat brought out the auburn in her red hair. "Everything's going to be fine."
"Can somebody zip me?" whined cousin Donna. "I don't think Bebe got my measurements right."
"If you'd put the Twinkies down once in a while she wouldn't have had to keep letting it out," Diane snipped, turning her sister around in order to oblige.
"At least I ain't a bean pole," Donna snipped back. "Men like a woman with a little meat on their bones."
"Would you two just stop it?" The bride's nerves were obviously frayed, and her sisters' squabbling wasn't helping. "You're ruining my big moment!"
"Huh," Diane muttered. "Only thing big around here is Donna's butt."
"I heard that," Donna shrilled. "Mama, did you hear what she said to me?"
"Now girls," Aunt Nadine began, but I tuned them out, resigned to my fate. With a sigh, I grabbed the hanger that held my dress and went down the hall to the ladies' room to get dressed.
Forget the bride. Right now I was the one who needed a moment.
The wedding went off without a hitch, if you ignored little Brittany bursting into tears halfway down the aisle and throwing her basket of flower petals on the carpet. Darlene took it in stride, catching her daughter by the hand and dragging her along to one of the front pews to be snagged by an elderly woman who shushed her with hugs and kisses. By the time I started down the aisle, bringing up the rear behind my three cousins, Brittany 's tantrum had subsided to sniffles, barely heard above the processional music.