Page 136 of No One Was Supposed to Die at This Wedding

“I don’t know.”

“But you have a theory,” I say because I know him, too.

He tips his head and looks down at me. “It’s speculation.”

“Tell me.”

“How about wenottalk about murder tonight?”

“You’re right.”

“It happens.”

“Ha ha.” I kiss him. “I’m happy.”

“Good.” He spins me away from him and back slowly. Someone gives out a wolf whistle, and the music rises and swirls into another song, a faster number that has a beat to it.

“I’m going to get us some drinks,” Oliver says.

“Good idea. I’m going to find the ladies’.”

“See you in a minute.”

We kiss again briefly, and I wend my way through the crowd as the beat of the song thumps through me. I find myself bopping to the music as I go, my heart swelling, a smile creeping onto my lips.

But I should know better than to celebrate or let my guard down.

You should, too.

Because I’ve shown you this scene before.

Did you forget? I forgive you.

I get to the door I think leads to the bathroom72and turn the handle.

The room is dark. It’s one of those annoying bathrooms where the lights are supposed to be movement-sensitive but aren’t.

I wave my hand around, trying to provoke the light, but when nothing happens, I step inside and search for the light switch on the wall. I grope around for a minute until I find it, then snap it on as it hits me.

Thatsmell.

Metallic, heavy metal.

Blood.

My eyes adjust, and a body comes into focus on the floor in front of me.

Dark blond hair. Tux.

Fred. Actually dead this time, I promise.

So, first of all:Fuck.

And second of all: It’s one minute to midnight.

Which means this murder is right on time.

69Which, to think about it, I haven’t really been in till now. What’s that about?

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