Page 103 of Wedding Crasher

A very limp, female form. Long black hair trailed over the fireman’s arm as he carried her to the ambulance that had joined the scene.

Melanie.

Sweet Jesus.

‘Just tell him to get back here, Emily. Quickly.’

‘That’s about all for tonight, Mr Ryan. We’ll be in touch in the morning.’

Gabe shook DCI Pearson’s hand and watched him hurry away down the street towards his car. It was a little after 7 p.m. on what had turned out to be one of the longest days of his life.

Behind him the funeral parlour smouldered, still officially off-limits until the fire officer declared it safe.

He didn’t have the stomach to go inside anyway.

Not tonight, anyhow. Nor tomorrow. Maybe never again.

It was a miracle that the morgue had been empty. Although actually, it wasn’t divine intervention that had saved him. His empty mortuary had a lot more to do with the fall-out from Rupert’s scathing attack inThe Herald. How ironic that it should turn out to be Gabe’s saving grace; not that he would rush to shake Rupert’s hand any time soon. He dropped down and sat on the edge of the kerb with his head in his hands.

‘Beer?’

Dan sauntered across from the chapel and handed him an already-open bottle. Gabe downed it in one, and Dan handed him his own.

‘What did the dibble have to say?’

Dan glanced behind them at the shadowy funeral parlour and winced.

‘Nothing they could say, really.’ Gabe shrugged. ‘Melanie’s confessed to starting the fire, so it’s an open and shut case for them.’

Dan puffed out hard and shook his head.

‘I always thought she was a bit weird, but even I didn’t have her pegged as a full-on Glenn Close. Psycho or what?’

Gabe tried and failed to find the words to articulate his shock at the extremities of Melanie’s behaviour.

‘She could have died,’ he muttered, as much to himself as to Dan.

He couldn’t get his head around how desperate Melanie must have been to do something like this.

‘She picked the right place to do it then,’ Dan quipped, but even he couldn’t expect to raise a laugh out of Gabe tonight. He dropped a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

‘You were insured though, right, buddy?’

Gabe nodded with a heavy sigh.

‘That’s alright then.’ Dan clapped him on the back. ‘This is as straightforward as it gets. You’ll be back in business in no time, mate.’

Gabe downed the last of the second beer and didn’t answer.

Dan was right, but he wasn’t sure he had the heart for it anymore.

It had been bedlam when he’d arrived back from the cemetery that afternoon, but he’d taken one look at his burned-out business and made it clear that Dora’s wake was to remain top priority for everyone else. His world might have collapsed around his ears, but it was bricks and mortar. Ivan’s loss was far greater. He nodded bleakly towards the chapel.

‘How’s it gone over there this afternoon?’

‘Ah, the usual. Lots of golden oldies who’ve had a skinful of sherry. Most of them have gone home now with a plate of leftovers balanced on the handlebars of their mobility scooters.’

Gabe knew Dan well enough to know that wisecracks were part of his DNA. They were his coping mechanism; this was the closest he came to being serious.

---