Dark Chocolate Demise

by Jenn McKinlay

  “Marty, what is it?” Mel asked. She felt her anxiety spike. Was the dead woman reanimating like a real zombie? What?

  “Angie!” An anguished cry reached their ears, and they all glanced at one another.

  “Yeah, Roach just arrived,” Marty said.

  Angie glanced at Tate and said, “I have to go to him.”

  He gave her a quick nod.

  Angie hurried around the van while the rest of them followed.

  Roach was flailing and fighting the officers who were holding him back, trying to keep him away from the body.

  “Roach!” Angie cried. “I’m here. I’m okay. I’m fine.”

  But the crazed rock star couldn’t hear her over the shouts of the crowd. He was bucking and fighting, and it wasn’t until Angie jumped right in front of him and yelled, “Stop!” that he finally heard her.

  “Angie!” He blinked and then he grabbed her. He hauled her up tight against him and then planted a kiss on her that made every woman in the crowd wilt at the knees.

  Angie melted up against him for just a second before she wrenched herself out of his arms. She was breathless when she straightened her veil and said, “Easy there, cowboy, I’m spoken for.”

  The officers stepped back just as Tate rolled up to stand beside Angie. His eyes were hard and Mel wondered if he was going to punch Roach in the mouth. He didn’t. Instead he crossed his arms over his chest, probably to keep himself from doing exactly that.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen T-man lose his cool,” Oz whispered.

  “Emotions are running high,” Marty said. “He’ll be okay.”

  “It wasn’t you,” Roach said. He was staring at Angie in wonder. “I heard that a zombie bride had been found dead. Oh, man, I think I just aged five years.”

  “I’m sorry,” Angie said. She patted his arm. “It wasn’t me. It was another bride.”

  Roach glanced from her to where the officers and EMTs were examining the body of the other woman. His face paled and he turned back to Angie as if to make sure that she was just fine.

  “Are we good here now?” Tate asked. He took Angie’s arm to lead her away.

  “You! Todd!” Roach stomped forward, blocking Tate’s way and shoving his face right in front of his. His voice was a low, menacing growl when he asked, “What did you do?”

  “Excuse me?” Tate asked. “I know your feeble brain can only retain drumbeats, but my name is Tate, as in Tate Harper, the man who is going to marry Angie DeLaura.”

  “Todd, Tim, Turnip, who cares?” Roach seethed. “I know what you did.”

  “Really? What’s that?” Tate asked. He looked completely unfazed in the face of Roach’s fury, which Mel knew he was doing just to make Roach even more furious. It worked.

  “You know what you did!” Roach shouted. “What happened, Tom? Were you so afraid that you were going to lose Angie to me that you decided to stop her by any means possible?”

  Now Tate was getting angry. Mel could tell by the red flush that crept up the back of his neck and the way he bunched his fists and leaned forward like he was ready to take a swing and put some weight behind it. Judging by the way the police officers took a few steps closer to the two men, they sensed it, too.

  “What are you talking about, you narcissistic jackass?” Tate yelled.

  “Guys, stop!” Angie scolded them. “A woman has been killed.” She gestured to the body behind her, which was now being photographed by the crime scene unit. “Show some respect. Whatever issue you two have, it does not need to be worked out right here and now.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” Roach said. He glared at Tate before he looked back at Angie and continued. “Don’t you see, baby girl? He found out that we were together after the show, and in a jealous rage he killed that woman thinking she was you.”

  Nine

  “Now hold on!” Tate yelled. “First, I didn’t kill anyone.”

  Officer Henry gave him a scrutinizing glance, and Tate gave it right back.

  “I’m a witness,” Oz said. “T-man and I were in a fight.”

  “You were in a fight?” Angie squawked, noticing Tate’s scraped knuckles for the first time. She grabbed his hand and studied it more closely.

  “That’s not the issue right now,” Tate said, pulling his hand away with a wince. “What exactly does he mean you were together after the show? I thought you went to the bathroom.”

  “I did,” she said. “But I didn’t want to try and cram all of this”—she gestured to her poufy skirt—“in a stall, so I went back to the bakery. On my way back, I ran into Roach and we talked.”

  Roach made a scoffing sound and Tate frowned at him. Mel had a feeling fists were going to fly at any moment. She suspected that Oz and Marty were getting the same feeling as they inched closer to Tate, as if to be in grabbing range.

  “Oh, no you don’t,” Angie said to Roach. “Don’t you try to make something out of nothing. We talked. It was very nice. Don’t ruin it.”

  Roach let out an impatient sigh, and Mel noted that Tate’s shoulders seemed to ease down just a little bit. Then they snapped back up as Tate studied Roach more closely.

  “You know, given that you’ve been accused of murder once before, I’d say that of the two of us, that makes you the more likely suspect,” Tate said. “That and the fact that I got the girl. What’s the matter, you couldn’t sweet talk her back to you so you decided to kill her?”

  This time Roach did lose his cool. With a gruff shout, he lowered his head like a bull about to charge. Tate shoved Angie into Oz’s arms and braced himself. The hit never came. Roach took only three steps forward, when he was grabbed by the back of his expensive leather jacket.

  Mel glanced around him to see Detective Manny Martinez holding on to Roach but looking at her.

  “It’s been a long time, Mel,” he said.

  Caught off guard by the handsome detective, Mel nodded.

  “Five weeks, four days, and a handful of hours to be exact,” he said.

  Mel raised her eyebrows in surprise. He’d been counting?

  Manny passed Roach off to Officer Henry. “Walk him around until he cools off.” Then he turned to Tate and said, “Really?”

  “Sorry, it’s been a rough afternoon,” Tate said.

  Manny nodded. “So, I heard.” He glanced over his shoulder at the crime scene techs working around the body. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to be briefed.”

  He left without waiting for a response, and Mel felt her insides pinch. She and Manny had been friends, maybe even a little bit more than friends, given that he had saved her life and all, but he had wanted more, and she could never be more. She was in love with Joe DeLaura, and she always would be.

  “I think I liked it better when he thought he had a chance with you,” Angie said. “This feels . . . awkward.”

  “Tell me about it,” Mel said.

  Uncle Stan came tromping through the crowd. He had his usual roll of antacid tablets clutched in his fist, and Mel could see he was clearly unhappy about being called to the scene of a homicide in the middle of all of this chaos.

  “Back up!” he barked at a pair of zombies who were crowding him. He stopped in front of Mel and company and stared at them. “Oh, for the love of Pete, not you, too.”

  “We’re working it,” Mel said by way of explanation. Then she gestured to the van as if to prove they had not been having any fun of any kind.

  “Stan,” Officer Henry called his name, and Stan turned to face him. “Did Mel tell you that she’s the one who found the body?”

  Stan turned back to Mel with a look of disbelief. She gave him a sheepish shrug.

  “She was stuffed in our coffin,” Mel explained. At his sympathetic look, the words came tumbling out in a rush. “She’s dressed like a bride and I thought she was Angie and then I could
n’t get her out and then there was so much blood . . .”

  Mel started to hiccup and Stan opened his arms and pulled her into a bear hug, so much like the ones her father, Stan’s older brother, used to give when she was little that Mel’s hiccups turned into sobs, and she gooped all over his suit jacket. Stan didn’t care. He patted her back and shushed her while she cried even harder.

  Coming from sturdy Irish stock, the Cooper men were built big. They gave the best hugs in the world, and there wasn’t a day that passed that Mel didn’t miss getting squeezes from her dad. She was so grateful to have Uncle Stan in her life to help fill the void. She hugged him back as hard as she could.

  “You all right?” he asked when her sobs began to slow.

  “Yeah, I’m good,” she lied. “It’s just been . . . awful.”

  Stan let her go and stepped back to study her face. They both knew she wasn’t just talking about finding the body. Heck, she’d found enough bodies to have developed the requisite gallows humor as a coping mechanism.

  No, she was talking about the relentless stress and worry she’d been enduring since Joe had begun his trial a few months before, and Stan knew it.

  “He’s okay,” Stan said. “We’ve had protection on him since day one, and don’t discount the brothers. They’re excellent guard dogs.”

  Mel snuffled and nodded. “I know. I’ll just be really glad when this trial is over.”

  “Hang tough, kid.” Stan patted her shoulder. Then he straightened up and Mel knew he was bracing himself for what he was about to go do. She didn’t envy him the grisly task.

  One of the crime scene investigators was cordoning off the area with yellow tape. Mel was relieved that they didn’t loop the van, although she was certain there was no way they’d be selling any more cupcakes today. The mere thought made her sick to her stomach.

  “I feel sort of disgusting in this getup,” Angie said. “Do you think Stan will mind if I leave?”

  “I don’t think so,” Mel said. “I mean, you weren’t here, so it’s not like you’re a witness or anything.”

  “Kristin!” a man yelled as he charged towards them.

  Mel only had a moment to register that he was dressed in a tuxedo and looked an awful lot like Tate, the zombie groom, before he was upon them. He grabbed Angie’s arm and spun her around.

  “Kristin! Where have you been? I’ve been looking all over for you,” he said. He hugged her close. “Did you hear a woman was killed? When I couldn’t find you . . .”

  His voice trailed off and he let go of Angie as he noticed Mel standing beside them. Mel glanced at Tate, who looked as sick about the situation as she felt. This had to be the dead woman’s boyfriend or husband. Mel closed her eyes for a second and dug deep, looking for strength. This could have played out so differently.

  “Sir, I’m so sorry, there’s been a . . .” she began but he interrupted her.

  “Mel? Mel Cooper?” he asked.

  Mel looked at him. She couldn’t see past the ghoulish makeup or the fake gash on his neck. If he was a regular at the bakery, she couldn’t place him.

  “It’s me, Scott Streubel; I’m a law clerk in your . . . er . . . in Joe DeLaura’s office,” he said.

  Ding! The light went off and Mel remembered Scott and his wife, Kristin. They’d gotten married about six months ago. She and Joe had attended the service and reception. Joe had even toasted them, wishing them a long and happy life together.

  Mel felt bile splash up into the back of her throat. She desperately hoped that she was wrong, please, please, please, but on the off chance she wasn’t, she figured it was better if she was the one to tell Scott what was happening.

  “Oh, Scott,” Mel said. Her voice must have registered her distress, because he gave her a wary look.

  “What is it, Mel?”

  “This isn’t your wife,” she said, gesturing to Angie. “This is my friend Angie.”

  Angie faced him so he could really see her, and Scott blinked. “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought . . . then . . .”

  Mel hadn’t thought he could get any paler than the white pancake makeup he had on his face. She was wrong. So wrong.

  Scott whipped his head in the direction of the police. He lurched forward as if he’d forgotten how to walk and was forcing his feet to move by sheer will.

  “Kristin!” he cried.

  Mel hurried along beside him. Manny met them at the yellow tape. He held up his hands to hold them back, but Mel shook her head at him. Manny’s eyes darted to Scott’s wedding suit. Manny looked pained. He lifted the plastic tape and gestured for Scott to follow him. Mel followed, hoping against hope that this was all just a horrible mistake.

  The crowd was silent as they watched the groom kneel by the bride. Mel hovered behind Scott, not knowing what to do or how to help. Manny stood beside her as if offering his strength. She appreciated it more than she could say.

  The tech moved aside, and Scott slowly crawled forward. It took him only a second. He took the woman’s hand in his, and the anguished cry that left him as he bowed his head to the ground made the hair on the back of Mel’s neck stand on end.

  It was the sound of a man’s heart being ripped out of his chest and squeezed by the mean fist of grief until it stopped beating completely.

  Ten

  There was nothing she could say. She felt like a voyeur watching Scott smooth away the hair from his bride’s face with trembling hands. The zombie makeup she wore made a sick joke of the vicious crime that had befallen her. Standing this close, it was easy for Mel to see that the blood on her gown came from one bullet hole right through her heart.

  Uncle Stan knelt beside Scott. It was a few moments before Scott realized he was there. He looked like an abandoned child, dazed, bewildered, and crushed. Stan spoke softly to him in a calm, reassuring voice that made Mel want to cry because it was the tone Stan used when he had to deliver the worst possible news. She knew because the day her father had died, Stan had used that voice on her.

  Manny leaned close to Mel and whispered in her ear. “You know him?”

  She nodded and cleared her throat. She turned towards him and said, “His name is Scott Streubel, and that’s his wife, Kristin. He’s a law clerk in Joe’s office.”

  Manny rocked back on his heels. Mel could tell the news was a surprise. Manny took her by the elbow and dragged her away from the crime scene.

  “I want you out of here,” he said. His expression was dark and a little scary. “Have Tate, Marty, and Oz take you back to the bakery. You don’t stop anywhere; you don’t split up. You stay together and when you get to the bakery, you call me.”

  “What?” she asked. “What’s going on?”

  “Just do it, Mel!” he snapped. “For once in your life don’t argue with me, and do what I say.”

  And then Mel knew. “You think it was a hit, don’t you? She was shot. You think one of Tucci’s thugs did it, don’t you?”

  “Not here, not now,” Manny hissed. He turned and stomped over to Tate, dragging Mel behind him. He said the exact same thing to Tate, who met his intense stare with one of his own.

  “We’ll leave right now,” Tate said.

  “What about the cupcakes, and the van?” Angie protested. “And the coffin?”

  “The coffin is evidence and is going back to the crime lab,” Manny said. “Angie, I really can’t emphasize enough how much I want you out of here. Right now.”

  Angie met his gaze and then her chin went up. Her face was pale and her voice shook when she spoke. “You think they meant to shoot me, don’t you? You think because she and I are both dressed as brides that they meant to kill me.”

  “It’s a definite possibility,” Manny said. His tone was gentle but grim. “You need to go.”

  “Come on, Ange,” Tate said. “We can pack up and get out of town for a while.”

&
nbsp; “Leave town?” Angie sounded outraged. “I can’t leave. Not while Joe has this huge trial going on.”

  “How is you being at risk helping your brother?” Manny asked. His voice was exasperated now.

  “I’m supporting him,” Angie argued.

  Mel felt her neck get hot. Manny and Angie had always had a tenuous relationship. Primarily, because Angie tried to be accepting of Manny’s interest in Mel, even while hoping that Mel and Joe got back together.

  “He doesn’t need your support,” Manny said. “He needs you to be safe.”

  He looked at Mel when he snarled this last bit, and she nodded. She agreed with him completely. Besides, he was right.

  “I am safe!” Angie snapped. “You don’t know that this was meant for me.”

  “I don’t,” Manny conceded. “But guess what I do know? Frank Tucci is one sick bastard, and he’s going to do everything he can to rattle Joe’s cage until he can’t think straight, never mind argue his case in front of a judge and jury. Killing you sure would destroy your brother, wouldn’t it?”

  Angie blew out a breath. “You’re trying to scare me.”

  “Damn right I am,” Manny said. He shoved a hand through his hair. “Tucci is an animal. He’d think nothing of shooting you; hell, this is a guy who cut off his goomah’s right hand when she refused to make him a sandwich.”

  Mel felt dizzy, and when she glanced at Tate he seemed to wobble on his feet, too. Angie didn’t even blink. She nodded as if she’d heard it before, and Mel realized she had probably gotten an earful from her brothers.

  “Fine, I’ll leave the festival,” Angie said. “But I still don’t believe that this was about me. She doesn’t even look like me.”

  Manny looked at Mel. His black eyes were intense when he said, “Go and be careful.”

  “I will,” she said. “I promise, but what about Scott?”

  “I’ll take care of him,” Manny said. “I promise.”

  Tate signaled to Marty and Oz to fall in, and the next thing Mel knew, she and Angie were being escorted out of the park.