Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
Saturday morning, Oliver and Dave both woke early.
They spent a short time in bed together, holding hands and talking quietly.
Nothing about the murders or the possibility of a mummy, and nothing about the wedding.
Oliver’s brain hadn’t quite come online yet, and he needed a break from those stressful topics.
When they got up, each pulled on shorts and t-shirts and made breakfast together.
Dave focused on omelets—he was an expert flipper—and Oliver the hash browns and toast. He tossed the shredded potatoes with butter, garlic salt, and paprika before spreading them on a baking sheet and sliding them in the oven.
As he dropped the bread in the toaster, he caught himself humming and turned to Dave.
“Have I been humming a Taylor Swift song?”
Dave grinned but kept his eyes on the omelets. “You have. I was enjoying it, so I didn’t say anything.”
“You’re the sweetest.” Oliver kissed him on the cheek. “I think I’ll marry you later.”
“Yeah? Lucky me.”
Once they sat at the table to eat, Oliver brought up the wedding, and they discussed timing.
Dave opened a notes app on his phone and talked through a checklist he had created to keep himself on track.
He was so handsome in a faded concert t-shirt—Daughtry, which was just so very Dave—his hair in corkscrews, his beard freshly trimmed, and his glasses halfway down his nose.
Oliver reached across to touch Dave’s hand, getting him to look up from his list.
“I love you,” Oliver said.
Dave smiled and took his hand. “I love you, too.”
An alarm beeped on Dave’s phone, and he tapped the screen to silence it. Pushing up from his chair, Dave leaned in across the table. Oliver did the same, meeting him over their empty plates and coffee cups for a sweet, lingering kiss.
“Ready to go get married?” Dave said.
“So ready.”
When they entered the botanical gardens, Oliver paused to inspect the setup.
Tables with chairs were distributed throughout the wide patio space, with enough room for the best men and grooms to get through on either side.
A low platform waited by the wall of greenery and blossoms for them to stand on, a subtle trellis decorated with a variegated vine at the back.
“Wow,” Dave said. “It looks great.”
“It does.” The room tilted slightly, and he closed his eyes and let out a breath.
Was this actually happening? Despite all the challenges and obstacles, were they really going to be married today?
He tightened his hold on the hanger for the suit bag holding his tuxedo, the metal damp from his sweaty hand.
“Mr. Berridge.”
Oliver turned. “Oh.”
Detective Carter stood just behind him. A different suit and white shirt, but now with a tie.
“Hey, I’ve been with him all night and all day, he’s done nothing wrong.” Dave situated himself between Oliver and the detective.
Carter raised his hands. “I’m not here to cause trouble or put him through the wringer. I simply wanted to let you know I will be close by with several officers and members of campus security. We all hope you both get to enjoy your event. And that we have no more violence.”
“This feels like a trap,” Oliver said. “What’s the catch?”
“No catch.”
“The catch,” Dave said, “is that he gets to keep an eye on you but make it look like protection.”
“You have the right to feel that way.”
Oliver asked, “Any word on Dylan or Samira?”
“No.”
“Samira’s been missing three days now?” Oliver asked.
“That’s right.”
“And Dylan two?”
“Correct.”
“I wish I knew something that could be of use to you. But I don’t know anything more than what I’ve already told you.”
“What the hell?” Cody and Demetrius came up the path behind the detective, Cody’s cheeks red with anger. “What’s he doing here?”
“It’s all right,” Oliver said, raising his voice to get everyone’s attention.
From the quiet behind him, it appeared to work on the event staff doing last minute setup as well.
He lowered his voice a bit before continuing.
“He’s letting us know he’s here with some officers and campus security as a means of protection. ”
“And to keep an eye on him,” Dave added.
“Will you be maintaining a low profile?” Demetrius asked.
“As low as possible.”
“No.” Dave’s voice was firm. “You will remain out of sight and allow us to enjoy the day with our family and friends without interruption.”
The detective ducked his chin briefly in acknowledgment. With one more look at Oliver, he said, “We won’t be far.”
As Carter left the gardens, Alice and Greg Bower entered, moving aside to make room for the big man.
“Was that the grumpy detective who showed up at the bar?” Greg asked. “What does he want now?”
“Nothing, Dad,” Cody said. “He was just checking in. Let me show you and Mom to your seats before I make sure Dave knows how to dress himself.”
“Come on,” Demetrius said close to Oliver’s ear. “Let’s get you ready.”
A couple of small offices at the other end of the gardens had been reserved for the grooms to get ready. Demetrius opened the door for Oliver and followed him inside. Oliver hung his garment bag on a hook on the back of the door.
“How are you holding up?” Demetrius gave him a firm look. “And no just saying you’re fine or okay.”
Oliver blew out a breath. “I’m actually doing well, how’s that?”
“Better. How do you feel about Detective Carter hanging around?”
“Not bad, actually. Also not surprised at all. Is that weird?”
“I don’t think so. He suspects you, and we know he’s keeping an eye on you, but you’re also innocent, so if anything happens, he’ll be forced to confront it.”
Demetrius smiled as Oliver stared in shock. “How did you do that? It’s like you plucked what I was feeling—and feeling conflicted about feeling, by the way—right out of my head.”
“Hey, I’ve been accused on more than one occasion of being either a murderer or an accessory to murder.” He shrugged. “I get it. And it’s perfectly normal. I just hope that mummy doesn’t crash your wedding.”
“After everything we’ve had to work through to get here, I hope not, too.”
“Okay, I’ve got my tux.” He held up his own bag. “Mind if I dress in here with you?”
Oliver smirked. “Sure. It’s not like we haven’t seen each other naked.”
“True.” Demetrius laid the bag across a chair and unzipped it. “It feels like the versions of us who dated all those years ago were two completely different people.”
“Absolutely. Back when I had to prove to you and Cody I wasn’t a werewolf.”
“Oh my God. You will never let us live that down, will you?”
Oliver grinned as he opened his own bag. “Probably not.”
Oliver could hear the rise and fall of their guests’ conversations along with the classical music playing through the Bluetooth speaker on the other side of the tall plants shielding him and Demetrius from view.
Even though he tried to find something to focus on, his mind kept bouncing around.
He shifted his weight, again, and tried to figure out what to do with his hands.
“Nervous?” Demetrius looked handsome in his tux.
“It’s not nerves, more fidgety energy.”
Demetrius gripped his shoulder. “You’re going to do great. And in a little while, it’ll just be like having a big party with all your friends.” He smirked. “And Dave’s family.”
They both laughed.
The classical music faded out and something new took its place. The opening bars of “Holding Out for a Hero” drifted through the space, stripped back and instrumental. It had been a request from Demetrius to surprise Cody.
“Here we go,” Demetrius whispered. “See you down there.”
Oliver could only nod. He watched Demetrius walk out from behind the plants and away from him.
Leaning forward a bit, Oliver was able to see Cody’s surprised and happy expression as he emerged from the greenery on the opposite path.
The guests were all smiles, turned in their seats to watch the two make their way to a meeting point in the middle of the tables.
Cody whispered something that made Demetrius laugh, and then they walked hand in hand to the platform.
Alice and Amelia were both wiping tears from their eyes and quietly laughing at each other.
Clarabell stood between Cody and Demetrius, dressed in a white pantsuit.
The instrumental music faded out, and the opening notes of “First Day of My Life” by Bright Eyes began to play.
Oliver and Dave had listened to so many romantic songs in the last few months, but this one had struck a chord for both of them with its simplicity and lyrics.
Hearing the opening notes now, his vision blurred, and the back of his throat burned.
He took a deep breath and then another, waiting for their musical cue.
He heard a scuff against the stone walkway, then the dry and dusty smell of something old and desiccated washed over him. Plugging his nose, Oliver turned.
The mummy stood directly behind him. The strips of material covering its head were dirty and torn in some spots, revealing glimpses of yellowed skull.
Its sunken and withered eyes were still somehow infused with life, but jagged and blackened teeth lined the maw of its mouth behind tattered linens.
It reached for Oliver, sharp, bony fingers visible through the torn and dangling linens.
“Fuck!” Oliver stumbled back several steps. The giant leaves slapped against his head and face as he broke through onto the patio.
The mummy followed, both arms up, fingers reaching for him, clawing at the air. Its eyes were locked on Oliver as it came after him. Jaw working beneath the bandages, it released a keening, broken syllable that almost sounded like a word: mery.
A high-pitched scream erupted behind him as Amenmose burst out of the greenery and into full view.
The mummy glared at the gathering, swiping as people scrambled aside.
It fixed on Oliver again and stomped forward, knocking aside chairs and flipping a table.
Oliver retreated, unable to tear his eyes from the mummy as it came after him.
Another roar tore from its ruined throat, followed by an unexpectedly quieter sound. A pleading whine.
Oliver grabbed a chair to steady himself before taking another step. His feet got tangled in a fallen chair and he went down hard. The back of his head thumped against the fieldstone, and the last things he heard were Dave screaming his name and the mummy howling in rage.