Wedding Day of Murder Read Free

small sound outside the door. Her chances were better in the
warehouse than they were in the tiny bathroom enclosure. She forced herself to
open the door and take a step outside. Where was the towel? She couldn’t find
her clothes.
    Her fingers fastened on a canvas
drop cloth. She picked it up and wrapped it around herself like a towel. The
weight of it worked against her and it immediately fell off. She picked it up
again. This time she wrapped it around and around and around, encasing herself
like a sausage. Not only would it not fall off, but also whoever was out there
would have to waste precious time unwrapping her if he wanted to harm her.
    The plan was brilliant, or so she
thought until she tried to take a step. While concentrating intently on
covering the vital bits and pieces in her midsection, she had also covered her feet
in a dozen canvas wrappings. She was hobbled, a fact she only realized after
she attempted a step and fell over. She tried to stand up again and couldn’t;
the bindings were too tight. For a moment, she lay in silent consternation.
What was she going to do? In an effort to get away from whomever might be in
the room with her, she had inadvertently gift-wrapped herself. If she died,
everyone would think she had been part of some serial killer’s ritualistic
ceremony.
    The sound came again, like a shoe
scraping softly against the floor, as if someone was trying to muffle his
footsteps. She had to go, to get away. If she could just get to the stairs,
then she could escape. She began crawling toward the exit, raising her behind
high in the air and tossing her front half forward like an inchworm. That
worked for a few feet, until her shoulder struck a ladder. The ladder wobbled
precariously back and forth. Lacy prepared herself for the blow in case it came
crashing on top of her. After shaking violently back and forth a few times, it
settled back into position. Unfortunately, the paint can resting on top of it
didn’t. It toppled and clunked Lacy on the head. The good news was that it
wasn’t full and the pain barely registered. The bad news was that the lid wasn’t
on securely. She slapped her hand over her eyes as paint oozed and spilled in a
slow run down her head. It started with her hair and gently slid down her face,
covering her forehead, hand, nose, and cheeks.
    The paint was old and had been
exposed to air. It was so thick and gloppy that it stopped short of reaching
her mouth. My lucky day, she thought.
When the oozing stopped, she removed her hand from her eyes. The lights were
back on, and a pair of men’s shoes was planted directly in her path.

 
    Chapter 2

 
    Even in the midst of her
humiliation, the shoes were a welcome and familiar sight.
    “Oh, hey,” Lacy said. Looking up,
she affected a casual tone.
    Jason stared down at her, warring
expressions fleeting through his features. A couple of times he opened his
mouth to speak then shook his head and squatted beside her. “Hey.”
    “I don’t suppose you know how to
get paint out of hair. Asking for a friend,” Lacy said.
    “Baby oil,” Jason said.
    “How do you know that?”
    “When we started dating, I bought a
book called, How to Remove Stains From
Anything. ”
    “Smart move,” Lacy said.
    “The cover has already worn off and
the binding is cracked,” Jason said. He looked her over, starting at her head
and ending at her feet. “So…nice weather we’re having.”
    “Isn’t it, though?” Lacy said.
While they talked, she had been holding her torso aloft with her arms like a
mermaid. Her traitorously weak biceps began to protest and jiggle. She flopped
onto her back. Her hair immediately affixed itself to the ground, warning her
that she needed to get up before it dried that way. “Could you maybe help me
up? Keep in mind that I can’t bend any part of my body between my shoulders and
my toes.”
    “Okay,” Jason drawled. “How…is the
stock market today?” He was trying so hard not to ask how she