You May Now Kill the Bride (Return to Fear Street Book 1)

Dad grabbed my arm. “Do you recognize it? Is it Marissa’s?”

I squinted hard at it. “I don’t recognize it. I’m sorry. I can’t remember seeing her wear it. But I don’t know.”

The officer lowered the shoe to his side. “We called the state police,” he said. “They have choppers that can fly over the canyon and search the canyon floor.”

Dad gasped and gripped my arm harder. “You mean—”

“Looking for her body?” Doug said, his voice just above a whisper.

“There’s probably no one down there,” the policeman replied. His olive eyes locked on Doug. “A shoe doesn’t mean anything. But we have to look.”

I covered my face with my hands. My knees suddenly felt weak. I held on to Dad.

“We think she left early this morning,” Dad said. “Maybe before breakfast.” His eyes questioned the young officer.

“We had a long talk with the parking valet on duty this morning, sir. He didn’t see anyone with your daughter’s description leave on her own.”

“Did he mention a blond man in a red sports car?” I asked. Once again, I pictured Aiden being handed a ticket by the tall red-haired valet I had spoken to.

The officer scratched his head. “No. He didn’t. Should I ask him about that? Do you think Miss Fear might have left with this man?”

Dad and Doug were staring at me.

“You can ask,” I said. “But I’m pretty sure he’ll say no.”

We walked back to my parents’ room in silence, each with our own frightening thoughts. Dad stopped outside the door. “Harmony, what was that about a guy in a sports car?”

“Not worth mentioning,” I said, knowing that I was lying. But I was still way too confused to talk about it. “We can talk about it later, Dad. It’s not important.”

He studied me for a long moment, then pushed open the door.

While we were away, Grandpa Bud had showed up. He had pulled an armchair across from Mom, and the two of them had drinks in their hands. He had changed into a baggy gray sweatshirt and faded jeans.

Robby was stretched out on the couch, eyes shut and mouth open, sound asleep. My brother can sleep through anything. I guess it’s one way to deal with the worst family tragedy imaginable.

“Well?” Mom demanded, a teardrop running down one cheek.

“A wild-goose chase,” I told her. “Max took us to see the photo of Marissa on the wedding poster in the lobby.”

Mom sank in her chair. The glass tilted in her hand but didn’t spill.

Dad had his hands clasped tightly in front of him. “The police found a running shoe,” he said. “We didn’t recognize it. They found it at the edge of the cliff.” He just blurted it all out in one breath.

Mom and Grandpa Bud both gasped. On the couch, Robby stirred and shifted onto his side but didn’t wake up.

“At the cliff? Do they—do they think it’s Marissa’s?” Mom stammered.

Dad shook his head. “They don’t know. They’ve got helicopters searching the canyon floor.”

“Oh no,” Mom moaned. “Oh no. Oh no.” She buried her head in her hands.

Grandpa Bud reached out to comfort her. “We can’t assume the worst,” he said.

Doug was punching his phone again. “Marissa wouldn’t kill herself,” he said. “Maybe she decided she didn’t want to marry me. But I know she’d never kill herself. That’s just crazy.”

He listened to his phone. “Just voice mail again.” He tossed the phone angrily onto the table. “She didn’t kill herself,” he repeated through gritted teeth. “Trust me. I know her.”

“Doug is right—” I started.

But Doug wasn’t finished. “Marissa just panicked and left. I don’t care what the parking valet says. I know I’m right.” He slammed a fist on the tabletop. “We had words. We had a big argument yesterday. I swear I don’t even remember what it was about. And believe me, it wasn’t anything for Marissa to kill herself over. So let’s just stop thinking that way.”

He was red-faced now and shaking.

“Sit down, Doug,” Dad said. “We know you have to be right. But don’t get yourself in a frenzy.”

“A frenzy?” Doug repeated. But he followed Dad’s instruction. He sat down in a chair beside the table.

Robby made a snorting sound but didn’t wake up. How could he sleep through this whole discussion, through all the tension?

Grandpa Bud burped loudly. He set down his drink and covered his mouth with one hand. “Pardon me. My stomach is doing flip-flops. This is too much for an old man to bear.”

“Do you want to lie down?” Dad asked.

Bud shook his head. “I won’t be able to sleep. I’m too wired to take a nap, and too worried.”

“Why hasn’t she called?” Mom asked. I could see that her eyes weren’t focusing. Mom was in her own world of shock and confusion.

“We all knew this was a cursed place,” Grandpa Bud said. “We all knew about the wedding here in 1924. A member of the Goode family awoke the curse between the two families and—”

“Stop it, Bud!” Mom screamed. “Stop it. Do you really think talking about what happened nearly a hundred years ago is going to do any good today?”

She jumped unsteadily to her feet. “Let’s talk about something else. Is it supposed to be sunny tomorrow? Has anyone seen the baseball scores? Try the TV. There should be a game on this afternoon. I’m sure we can find someone to root for.”

Dad swept his arms around her and guided her back down into the chair. “Shhhhh. Shhhhh.” He whispered some things to her that I couldn’t hear.

Mom shut her eyes. Her shoulders were shaking, but she wasn’t crying. Dad stood silently, a steady hand on her trembling shoulder.

The room grew quiet. We were all having our private thoughts. Sad thoughts. Of course, I had guilty thoughts. Now I felt total guilt for the pranks I had played. . . . The feathers in Uncle Kenny’s mouth . . . the horror-movie stampede of the squirrels in the dark of night.

What was I thinking? Why did I think it would be hilarious to disrupt Marissa’s wedding like that? Of course, I had no way of knowing that she would disappear into thin air.

But still . . .

If something terrible happened to Marissa, would I ever forgive myself? Had I doomed myself to a lifetime of guilt?

A knock on the door made us all sit up alert, even Robby. The blue-uniformed cop with the strange olive eyes stepped into the room.

His expression told it all. His face was set in a tight-lipped frown. His eyes swept the room once, then avoided us, his stare above our heads as if he couldn’t bear the pain of looking at us.

“Bad news, I’m afraid,” he said, just loud enough for us to hear. He cleared his throat. “Our chopper patrol—”

“NO!” Mom let out a scream and jumped up, knocking over her glass. Grandpa Bud made a grab for her, but she stumbled toward the officer, shaking her head, mouthing the word no.

The cop raised his eyes to Dad, who had frozen beside Mom’s chair and didn’t even seem to realize that Mom was stumbling across the room. “I’m sorry, folks,” he said, and had to clear his throat again. “But the state police found a body at the bottom of the cliff. A girl’s. I mean, a young woman’s body.”

“No no no no.” Mom raised both fists as if she was about to attack the officer for bringing the news.

Dad finally moved. He took Mom’s arms and held her back. Then he spread an arm around her shoulders. He pressed his forehead to her cheek and whispered again.

I glimpsed Grandpa Bud, leaning forward in his chair, very pale, his hand on his chest. I silently prayed the officer’s news wasn’t giving him a heart attack.

Robby sat upright on the couch, blinking hard, stunned from his nap, squinting at the young cop as if trying to decide if it was all part of a dream. Doug collapsed onto a chair at the table and covered his head in his hands.

My mind drifted away. I saw Marissa as a little girl, dressed up for Sunday school. A picture of her in her high school graduation robe flashed into my brain. A crazy jumble of pictures with no reason or pattern.

“We need someone to identify the body,” the cop was saying. “One of you should come with us.” And then he added, thoughtlessly, “The body is crushed but the face is pretty much untouched.”

A detail we really didn’t need. But I guessed we should cut him some slack. The officer looked green, about to vomit. He probably didn’t get too many young girls hauled up from the cliff bottom.

Mom opened her mouth in a deafening animal wail and began to sob, her chest and shoulders heaving. Dad awkwardly reached for her, but she twisted out of his grasp and continued to wail.

“I’ll go with you,” Doug said to the officer. He started to stand up.

“They’d prefer it to be a family member,” the cop said.

Doug made a gurgling sound and slumped back into his chair.

I could see that Dad had his hands full with Mom. Robby was still fighting his way out of his daze. “I’ll go,” I said.

“No—” Dad started to protest. “It should be me.”

Mom picked up her drink glass and heaved it at the wall.

After the shattering sound had stopped echoing through my head, I stepped forward. “I’ll go, Dad. I’ll be okay.”

“Robby, snap out of it,” Dad said. “Take care of your mother. We’ll be right back.”

Dad and I followed the cop out of the room.

I must have been in some kind of dream state. I kept seeing these pictures in my head of Marissa and me when we were little. Building clubhouses out of cardboard boxes. Marissa reading her chapter books to me before I knew how to read myself. My heart was fluttering in my chest. It felt like hummingbird wings. But I didn’t feel the kind of cold dread you would expect.

Not until Dad and I followed the path up from the lodge and I saw the huddle of blue-uniformed officers at the top of the mesa. When I saw them, my breath escaped my body as if I had been punched in the stomach.

Dad must have seen my sudden terror. He gently took my arm and guided me through the tall grass to the circle of cops.

“Let us by,” the cop said in a low voice, and the circle opened up.

I saw a green canvas tarp on the grass, and I could make out the shape of a body in the bulge at its center. “Oh.” A single word escaped my mouth.

Dad squeezed my hand. I struggled to breathe. But the bird wings had risen from my chest into my mouth. And my legs now felt as if they each weighed five hundred pounds. I couldn’t take another step.

Two officers bent and took the ends of the canvas tarp in their hands.

“We just need you both to take a quick look and identify her.” I struggled to make sense of his words. They suddenly didn’t seem to be in a language I understood.

I couldn’t reply. I just stood there trembling, not breathing, not thinking, the sunlight suddenly blinding, pain pulsing at the sides of my head.

The two cops slowly pulled the tarp back, revealing the pale, pale face.

“NOOOO!” I couldn’t stop the scream that burst from my throat. “NOOOOO! NOOOOOOO!”