Chapter 25
One step inside the crowded school gym, Karl halted abruptly. “What the hell?”
For the first time since Molly came down the stairs in that shit-hot suit, he wasn’t devoting at least half his attention
to her bared cleavage. Or wallowing in the gut-deep satisfaction he got every time he spotted the bizarro corsage he’d slipped
on her wrist, with its crystal-studded starfish and what appeared to be tiny metallic and aqua-lacquered Pepperidge Farm Goldfish
crackers nestled among the ivory mini roses. Or glancing down at his matching boutonniere and wondering how to keep his family
from ever seeing him wear that thing, because he’d never hear the end of it.
Latoria was talented, but also a goddamn menace.
Much like whoever had decorated this gym, because Jesus H. Christ.
Athena’s sharp elbow moved him aside and out of the gym doorway, and the other three members of the party joined him inside
the room. Then drifted to a stop almost immediately, as soon as they caught sight of the weird-ass shit awaiting them all.
“This is . . .” Matthew trailed off, agape, then tried again. “I don’t . . .”
“Oh, wow.” Eyes shining, lips parted, Athena turned in a slow circle and surveyed the dimly lit space. “This is incredible.”
“Yeeees,” her husband said slowly. “In the sense that it’s very difficult to believe someone did this.”
If Karl wasn’t mistaken, a song from the Titanic soundtrack was playing over the loudspeakers. Which would normally be romantic, but in this room? Beyond fucking macabre.
“Hey, everyone.” Lise suddenly appeared at Molly’s side, wearing a dark-green dress that could’ve come from a Ren Faire. “You’re
finally here!”
“Unfortunately,” Matthew muttered.
Lise waved a hand at their surroundings. “Janel tells me Victor Diab and the other science nerds on the reunion committee
took charge of themed decorations. Which may help to explain what you’re seeing.”
“I’m not sure a sufficient explanation exists for the choices made here tonight, Lise. But thank you for trying.” Molly’s
tone was so dry, it would’ve killed most of the creatures inhabiting the gym, back when they were alive.
They weren’t alive anymore, as far as Karl could tell, but . . .
Holy shit, please let them not be alive.
Diab—a marine biology professor at Ladywright College—and his pals had clearly taken the “Under the Sea” theme and run with it.
Actually, no. Screw that. The word run was inadequate as hell.
Armed with their favorite theme, those overenthusiastic nerds had sprinted toward the horizon like marathoners on fucking speed, directly into an aquatic nightmare of horror-movie proportions, then
sprinted some more.
Shifting blue lights illuminated the large room.
Instead of streamers, brownish-green kelp dangled along the walls, arranged in wide swoops.
Hanging from the ceiling? Not a mirror ball.
Not balloons. Horrifying blobby fish, who looked like the mutated offspring of a terrible nuclear accident.
Pissed-off, powerfully built orcas ramming model yachts.
Clawed, beady-eyed crustaceans. Sea snakes with beaky noses and fangs that glistened whenever spotlights passed their way.
Other creatures with spiny protrusions and huge, sightless eyes—or no eyes at all—and way, way too many goddamn teeth.
Crooked teeth. Needle-sharp.
“Holy shit,” Karl muttered. “Thought there’d be coral and frilly-ass fish, not the open-water equivalents of Charles fucking
Manson.”
“When she sat down to design deep-sea creatures, Mother Nature was clearly going through some stuff.” Molly squeezed his arm,
sounding amused. “Or so it seems.”
Lise followed their gaze. “They’re completely accurate reproductions of the committee’s chosen species, according to Janel.”
Reproductions? Meant never alive. Thank fuck.
Although the gym did kind of smell like a day-old seafood platter. Probably the kelp. Hopefully the kelp.
“From what I know, everything is spot-on.” Wide-eyed and grinning, Athena looked enthralled. “This whole freaking display is stupendous. I can’t even imagine how much time the committee spent getting everything just
right. Not to mention money.”
Lise lifted a shoulder. “Victor won the lottery a few years back. Drives the same beat-up Honda. Lives in the same small house.
I guess he needed to spend his cash on something?”
“And he chose lifelike nightmares of the deep.” Molly thought about that for a moment. “Huh.”
“Have you seen the cakes yet?” Karl asked Lise, his curiosity piqued to hell and back. “Got no idea what they look like, since
I don’t do sculpted illusion shit. Told Janel she’d have to go somewhere else for that.”
Stationed next to those cakes—assuming Janel had found a baker to tackle them—and hidden behind crowds of former classmates, Charlotte, Bez, and Johnathan should have already set up the first round of refreshments. He’d check on ’em soon enough. No hurry.
During the last few days of working side by side, including at the picnic, they’d more than demonstrated their fundamental
good sense and trustworthiness. Plus, they knew his cell number. Understood they could call if they needed him. Had urged
him to forget about work and enjoy himself with Molly.
Normally, he’d help them anyway. But since Molly was maybe—possibly—leaving in two days? His catering team was on its own
tonight, unless everything went to shit.
“There are two cakes on offer.” Lise held up a finger. “One huge barracuda. Its razor-sharp teeth are apparently very convincing
sugar work and have already required the procurement of a box of bandages.” A second finger. “And one enormous eel. Complete
with a mucus layer comprised of lime-flavored gelatinous slime. At least one alum has thrown up in a trash can after seeing
the eel.” She paused, and the faint sound of gagging drifted from the far corner of the gym. “Make that two alums.”
Molly winced, while Athena gave a long, low whistle and Karl contemplated the possible flavors of the actual cake. If he’d
baked it? White chocolate, maybe. Real cherry filling. Lime zest-vanilla frosting. Lime mucus on top, possibly made with either
gelatin or sweetened, condensed milk, cornstarch, and food coloring.
Might have to make that next week’s cake special. Minus the goo.
“I can’t look away,” Matthew whispered, eye-to-terrified-eye with the nearest toothy demon-fish. “Athena, save me.”
Fuck. Karl had forgotten his best friend’s utter lack of chill when it came to scary shit. Before he could do anything to help,
though, Athena sprang into action.
“Did someone say my—oh!” Startled out of her dazed wonderment, she whirled to face her husband. “Babe, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t
thinking. Are you okay?”
He opened his mouth. Closed it again. Offered her a weak smile.
“We’ll go.” With a gentle hand on his arm, she began steering him toward the door. “Say good night to everyone, Dr. Vine,
because we’re leaving. I’ll send the limo back once we’re home.”
He gave their group a shaky wave but lodged a faint protest as he and Athena stepped out into the hall. “Sweetheart, we can
stay. I know you wanted—”
“I know what I want right this second.” Her rapid strides didn’t falter, and her voice grew fainter as they moved farther
away. “Namely, for my husband not to avoid every body of water larger than a toilet from now on. So we’re done here.”
“Well.” Lise watched the couple depart. “I’d ask if it was something I said, but there’s just no out-traumatizing unexpectedly
bloodthirsty marine life.”
“They’re truly the GOATs when it comes to inflicting emotional damage.” Molly’s voice remained dead solemn. “Even though they’re
not mammals.”
Lise giggled merrily, and Molly cracked a smile too before turning to Karl. “Remind me to text Athena later tonight to check
on Matthew, okay?”
“Got it.” Fishing his phone from an interior jacket pocket, he set his timer and sent his own quick message to Matthew: Should’ve noticed your suffering sooner. Sorry, man.
Matthew wrote back immediately. No worries.
Have fun tonight. :-) A brief pause. Athena says to—and I quote—“Pull up your big boy underpants and use your words, Special K.” Karl was halfway through typing his response when Matthew texted again: P.S.
Please know that I will *not* tell my wife to go fuck herself, so don’t bother writing it.
Karl deleted his message-in-progress, grumbling all the while, and put away his phone. When he glanced up again, Lise was
eyeing him.
“Why don’t you go admire the cakes and check in with your staff while Molly and I visit Janel?” Reading his mutinous expression
correctly, she held up a hand. “I know you don’t want Molly too far away, but I was told to bring her by for a chat or suffer
the consequences.”
“I did promise to talk with her tonight.” Molly patted his arm, looking faintly apologetic. “I’ll meet you by the cakes. I
promise not to be long. Okay?”
“Fine,” he grumbled.
He hated crowds. Hated casual chitchat with near strangers even more. But Lise was right—he should go check on his crew and
see if they needed help.
Lise’s neck twisted as she scanned the room. “Also, I see Sylvia near the DJ, taking photos for next week’s paper. In case
you want to avoid her.”
Occasional pictures didn’t faze him. Getting grilled again about his nonexistent ties to organized crime and whether Sweeney
Todd and Hannibal Lecter would’ve given Karl’s baked goods two severed-and-ground-into-burger-meat-thumbs up? That shit got annoying.
“Thanks for the heads-up, Lise.” He leaned over and pressed a kiss to the elegant shell of Molly’s ear, where he couldn’t mess up any makeup she might’ve applied. “See you by the cakes, Dearborn.”
After Molly gave him one last smile, the two women left him alone in the aquatic horrorscape their high school gym had become.
Grumpily, he edged his way around clumps of excitedly chattering people, a good chunk of them his customers, and headed for