knife or anything. Nope, he could kill me with his bare hands
and get his friends to help him dump my body in the bayou for the
gators to dispose of. No one would be the wiser.
Apparently hangovers made me
extra morbid. Or maybe it was New Orleans. There could be voodoo in
the air. How would I know? I’d never been here before. After
this weekend, I might never come here again.
I made the supreme sacrifice and
lifted my head to try and see the rest of the room. After all, I was
the maid of honor. I suppose checking to see if I’d lost the
bride was the least I could do.
There was a lump under the covers
in the other bed. Unless I’d picked up a stranger and brought
him or her home, at least one member of our party was accounted for.
“ Beth?” Wishful
thinking on my part, but I croaked the possibly missing bride’s
name as loudly as my pounding head and scratchy throat would allow,
hoping the lump would respond.
“ Ugh. Holy hell, I feel
like crap. Did I get run over by a truck last night?” Marci’s
muffled voice preceded the arm that snaked its way out from beneath
the covers.
“ I have no idea. Where are
Jen and Beth?” I braced myself on one elbow and tried not to
sway since the room seemed to be doing enough moving on its own.
“ I don’t know.”
Marci lifted the covers and peered under them. “Christ, my feet
are sore.”
Come to think of it, I was pretty
achy too, but it wasn’t my feet that were sore. It was a much
more intimate area—one that hadn’t been used in quite a
while. Not since I’d had my last steady boyfriend. Uh, oh.
“ You guys okay?”
I heard the disembodied voice
come from the vicinity of the bathroom. “Jen?”
“ Yeah. I seem to have slept
on the bathroom floor. But judging by what’s in the toilet,
that was a good thing.” There was the sound of a flush, and
then Jen stumbled out of the bathroom, holding on to the wall.
“Hurricanes don’t look as good in the toilet the morning
after.”
Phew, another one accounted for.
Now all I needed was to hear Beth’s voice and I’d be the
happiest hung over girl in the world. “Beth didn’t happen
to be in the bathroom with you, did she?”
Jen frowned. “No. She’s
not out here with you guys?”
Marci leaned over the edge of her
bed and checked the floor. “Nope. Ugh, that was a bad move.”
She pressed her hand to her head.
“ I think we lost her.”
I looked from Marci to Jen, starting to really panic now. “What
do we do?”
“ Call her family?”
Jen suggested.
I let out a snort. “And
tell them what? I got drunk and misplaced their daughter? That I
possibly left her somewhere to get killed or kidnapped?”
“ Jen or I could call. We
just have to be a little sneaky about it.” Marci glanced from
me to Jen. “One of us can call their house and pretend we’re
not with the others and ask if Beth’s there. I mean she grew up
in New Orleans. That’s why we all had to fly our asses here
from all over the country for the wedding. Maybe she went home to her
family’s house last night after we passed out.”
“ Let’s try calling
her cell phone first.” I didn’t think any one of us
currently had the capacity to lie to Beth’s parents, forget
about her Marine Corps fiancé.
“ Good idea.” Jen, who
was already standing, stumbled from the wall to the dresser where a
purse sat next to the lamp. I recognized that purse. It was mine.
That was good. One more piece of the puzzle found. When Jen pulled my
phone out of it, my hopes rose a bit higher. She squinted at the
readout, then hit a few buttons.
A vibrating in my pocket had me
jumping. I may have been moving a little slowly but a feeling of
dread descended upon me the moment Jen’s call to Beth’s
phone made my ass vibrate.
“ Crap.” I reached
beneath me and pulled out a cell phone. “Why do I have Beth’s
phone?”
“ Wait, I remember that.”
Marci held up a hand.
“ Me too!” Jen nodded,
then pressed her hand to her head and
and get his friends to help him dump my body in the bayou for the
gators to dispose of. No one would be the wiser.
Apparently hangovers made me
extra morbid. Or maybe it was New Orleans. There could be voodoo in
the air. How would I know? I’d never been here before. After
this weekend, I might never come here again.
I made the supreme sacrifice and
lifted my head to try and see the rest of the room. After all, I was
the maid of honor. I suppose checking to see if I’d lost the
bride was the least I could do.
There was a lump under the covers
in the other bed. Unless I’d picked up a stranger and brought
him or her home, at least one member of our party was accounted for.
“ Beth?” Wishful
thinking on my part, but I croaked the possibly missing bride’s
name as loudly as my pounding head and scratchy throat would allow,
hoping the lump would respond.
“ Ugh. Holy hell, I feel
like crap. Did I get run over by a truck last night?” Marci’s
muffled voice preceded the arm that snaked its way out from beneath
the covers.
“ I have no idea. Where are
Jen and Beth?” I braced myself on one elbow and tried not to
sway since the room seemed to be doing enough moving on its own.
“ I don’t know.”
Marci lifted the covers and peered under them. “Christ, my feet
are sore.”
Come to think of it, I was pretty
achy too, but it wasn’t my feet that were sore. It was a much
more intimate area—one that hadn’t been used in quite a
while. Not since I’d had my last steady boyfriend. Uh, oh.
“ You guys okay?”
I heard the disembodied voice
come from the vicinity of the bathroom. “Jen?”
“ Yeah. I seem to have slept
on the bathroom floor. But judging by what’s in the toilet,
that was a good thing.” There was the sound of a flush, and
then Jen stumbled out of the bathroom, holding on to the wall.
“Hurricanes don’t look as good in the toilet the morning
after.”
Phew, another one accounted for.
Now all I needed was to hear Beth’s voice and I’d be the
happiest hung over girl in the world. “Beth didn’t happen
to be in the bathroom with you, did she?”
Jen frowned. “No. She’s
not out here with you guys?”
Marci leaned over the edge of her
bed and checked the floor. “Nope. Ugh, that was a bad move.”
She pressed her hand to her head.
“ I think we lost her.”
I looked from Marci to Jen, starting to really panic now. “What
do we do?”
“ Call her family?”
Jen suggested.
I let out a snort. “And
tell them what? I got drunk and misplaced their daughter? That I
possibly left her somewhere to get killed or kidnapped?”
“ Jen or I could call. We
just have to be a little sneaky about it.” Marci glanced from
me to Jen. “One of us can call their house and pretend we’re
not with the others and ask if Beth’s there. I mean she grew up
in New Orleans. That’s why we all had to fly our asses here
from all over the country for the wedding. Maybe she went home to her
family’s house last night after we passed out.”
“ Let’s try calling
her cell phone first.” I didn’t think any one of us
currently had the capacity to lie to Beth’s parents, forget
about her Marine Corps fiancé.
“ Good idea.” Jen, who
was already standing, stumbled from the wall to the dresser where a
purse sat next to the lamp. I recognized that purse. It was mine.
That was good. One more piece of the puzzle found. When Jen pulled my
phone out of it, my hopes rose a bit higher. She squinted at the
readout, then hit a few buttons.
A vibrating in my pocket had me
jumping. I may have been moving a little slowly but a feeling of
dread descended upon me the moment Jen’s call to Beth’s
phone made my ass vibrate.
“ Crap.” I reached
beneath me and pulled out a cell phone. “Why do I have Beth’s
phone?”
“ Wait, I remember that.”
Marci held up a hand.
“ Me too!” Jen nodded,
then pressed her hand to her head and
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