“OK, then.” He grimaced. “Now that you’ve explained it to me in a rational manner, let’s go.”

“What?”

He kissed me softly. “I’m with you, Jane. Always with you.”

When we got closer, I saw that the trailer wasn’t a trailer at all. It was an old school bus that had been spray-painted in camouflage. The walls were covered in gouges and rust stains. There were no lights, not even a flickering candle or campfire. A deer skull was mounted on the front fender, and cardboard covered two of the windows, which seemed to have been kicked in. There was actual Spanish moss hanging from the trees and brushing against the pressed-metal roof. I didn’t even know that we could get Spanish moss this far north. Maybe Ray had bought it at a craft store and hung it for ambience.

“Holy Mary, mother of Cheez Whiz.” I gaped.

This was the thing we didn’t want people from outside Kentucky to know about. There are hardworking, middle-class, well-educated people living all over our fair state. People who have all their teeth, aren’t married to their cousins, and have never even seen an episode of Lizard Lick Towing. But somehow, every time there’s a natural disaster, news crews manage to track down one of these outdoorsy yahoos to interview about how the “twister came a-screamin’ down the holler” and destroyed the snake farm his family had been running for generations. Frankly, I was surprised the camera crews hadn’t found this place already.

I tilted my head as we studied the exterior. “You know those moments in horror movies where the two stupid teenagers are about to stumble blindly into the serial killer’s lair, and you’re screaming at the screen, ‘No, don’t go in there. That collection of creepy doll heads is not just for decoration!’ because you honestly cannot believe two people could be that stupid? Trust me, this is one of those moments.”

“I’ll choose this moment to remind you that this was your idea. We can still call Ophelia.”

“There’s no reason to now. I don’t sense any thoughts,” I said. “No thoughts, no heartbeat. I mean, his scent is strong here, but he’s not here.”

“His truck is here. I can see the glimmer of the grate under that brush over there,” he said. “And if I’m not wrong, this patch of woods is just a mile or so from River Oaks. It explains how he’s been able to hover so closely.”

“Do you think it’s weird that there are no booby traps? I mean, this guy shot you with an arrow full of anticoagulants. You’d at least expect a tiger pit filled with big wooden stakes or something.”

“It is a little odd.”

“This is where those hired goons would have come in handy. We could send them in as booby-trap finders.”

“We could go home and bring back Jamie.”

“Come on,” I said softly as we passed old lawn chairs and empty beer cans scattered across the ground.

The little stop sign on the side was still intact, and I used it to pull the bus door open. When that didn’t make the bus explode, I took it as a good sign.

Before I hopped up onto the first step, I turned and asked, “We don’t need tetanus shots, right?” He shook his head. “Good. How does someone actually live in a school bus?” I wondered as we climbed aboard. With our remarkable night vision, we didn’t need flashlights to look around, which was good, because we didn’t have one. “I mean, there’s no water, there’s no bathroom. He must have a generator or something, because how else would he—Oh, dear.”

Wallpapering the interior of the bus were pictures of us—long-range shots of Gabriel and me sitting on the porch swing, of our friends helping us move Gabriel’s stuff into the house, shots taken through the front window of my shop. Specs for my car’s model. Line drawings of my house. News clippings from the Half-Moon Herald announcing Bud’s death and our engagement.

“This is scarily thorough,” I muttered.

I looked at the meticulously arranged cork board, which included long-range pictures of me through the shop window. A copy of my weekly schedule was pinned to the cork.

“I think it’s fairly safe to assume that this is our guy. If he’s pissed at you, why is all of his research on me?”

“He wants to strike where it hurts me most, by hurting you.”

I cooed. “Aw, that’s sweet in a sick, psychotic way. Still, I’m not the one who dropped a tree on top of his brother. I feel like I’m getting hosed here.”

“Thank you for your concern.”

Ray had installed makeshift counters where the bus seats used to be. They were crowded with half-emptied cans of Beanee Weenees and Vienna Sausages. Flies were buzzing thickly over the congealed contents. Empty bottles of cheap whiskey were scattered across the floor. An overly sweet, decaying scent hung in the air, with an undercurrent of vomit. Frankly, the place reminded me of my dorm’s community bathroom on a Saturday morning.

“I know this is kind of a stupid question, but what’s that smell?”

I looked up and saw that Gabriel’s attention was drawn to a bunk bed bolted into the back of the bus. There was a dark shape huddled in the center of the mattress, covered by an old army blanket.

“Is that what I think it is?”

“Judging by the smell, I’d say it’s a distinct possibility that’s Ray McElray himself,” he said, pushing me behind him as we crept closer. “He’s human. He’s definitely dead. The body has been here a few days and reeks of booze. He may have drunk himself to death after his failed attempt on you.”

I groaned. “I am not calling this in to Ophelia, got it? I am sick of her snotty little jokes at my expense.”

“Yes, because clearly, protecting your feelings should be our chief concern when finding a dead body.”

“Shut it.” I sighed as we stepped closer.

“Would you recognize Ray if you saw him?”

I nodded. “Probably. You don’t forget a guy with a curly mullet.”

Gabriel peeled back the blanket just an inch. I saw a head of dark curly hair peeking up from beneath the blanket. I stepped forward to get a better look, and we heard an ominous clicking noise. I looked down and saw that some sort of panel had been cut into the floor a few feet from the bed. And I’d just stepped on it. I looked more closely at the flooring behind us and saw several little panels cut into the floor. We were lucky that we’d made it this far without stepping on one.

From somewhere under the counter, I heard a tiny buzzing noise. Gabriel grabbed my hand. “I think we need to back away from the bunk bed and get off of this bus.”

“I would, but I’m sort of paralyzed with fear right now,” I said.

The buzzing became the blaring of an alarm clock. In a flash, Gabriel was at the nearest emergency exit window and yanking it down. He practically threw me out of the opening. Just as my feet cleared the metal lip of the window, there was a deafening roar, and I felt Gabriel’s weight crashing against me as we were blown away from the blooming burst of flame. The heat prickled across my back as he turned, throwing his arms around me and cushioning my fall. I landed with a wet thump, Gabriel on top of me, and we slid across the soupy mud of Ray’s yard as bits of school bus rained down on us.

Oh, and Gabriel’s shirt was on fire.

Gabriel wasn’t all that concerned about this as he seemed to be stunned into a coma. Coughing, I began beating on his back to put out the flames.

“Why are you hitting me?” he asked groggily as I shoved him off of me and rolled his back against the ground.

“Stop, drop, and roll!” I yelled as I rocked him back and forth in the mud.

“What?”

“You’re on fire! Roll around!”

“I thought I smelled something burning,” he murmured, settling his face back down into the mud.

I looked back at the flaming wreckage of the bus. “You hit your head pretty good, huh?”

“Yep. I should be OK in a few minutes.”

“I’ll wait,” I said, carefully moving his head onto my lap. I stroked his hair. “So, is it just me, or do these pranks make Missy’s and Jeanine’s seem cheeky and winsome by comparison?”

“Hmph,” he said, nestling his face against my thigh. “So, can we assume that the body in the bus was Ray?”

“It seems too much to hope for, that this whole thing was resolved by binge drinking and homemade explosives.” I shrugged. “But what are the chances that he had a roommate?”

Ophelia was surprisingly gracious about the whole “we went off without you” thing, once we explained that I happened to recognize the water tower. I supposed it helped that Jamie had seen the explosion and come running, so he was standing behind me while I was explaining the predicament. She probably didn’t want to look like a total shrew in front of him.

Ray’s remains were collected by the human authorities. There wasn’t much to collect, as the explosives had been stashed under the bunk bed. To me, that didn’t make much sense. Why would anyone sleep on top of a large bomb? But Ophelia suggested that maybe he wanted to take out anyone who got that close as he slept. He didn’t care whether he survived.

Sergeant Russell Lane of the Half-Moon Hollow PD, who seemed to be the only police officer on duty whenever I got into trouble, promised that they would identify the remains by dental records as soon as possible. I had the feeling that Ray didn’t have any dental records, which would make identification more difficult.

“Jane, do you think you’ll be able to keep yourself out of trouble for the remaining three days before your wedding, or will I need to double your guards?” Ophelia asked.

“I think I’ll be fine,” I said contritely.

Ophelia smiled blandly. “Well, I’ll still keep them stationed outside the house, just in case. I’m sure there’s more than one person interested in killing you in a splashy, public fashion.”

“I would take offense to that, but you’re probably right.”

Gabriel’s wounds healed quickly enough, although Jamie helped me load him into his car so we could drive home. Gabriel’s concussion also led to his singing various Motown songs, which Jamie recorded on his phone for his own amusement.

With precious little time left before the wedding, I logged as many hours in the shop as possible, preparing it and Andrea for the week Gabriel and I would be spending away at an undisclosed honeymoon location. I trusted Andrea and Dick to take care of the business. And I trusted Jamie not to run away with the circus. But I didn’t trust myself not to check my voicemail every five minutes to make sure nothing had blown up or been sprayed with battery acid in my absence.

Honestly, I was lucky to have the shop to distract me. I had very little to do wedding-wise, thanks to Iris. She’d emailed me an itinerary for the day before and the day of the wedding. I just had to show up at the right time and get dressed. If I wasn’t marrying one of the most beautiful men on the planet, I’d have been tempted to give her a big, wet kiss.

Andrea came toddling from the supply room, struggling to gracefully move a bulky, half-constructed cardboard display.

“What are you doing?” I asked as she flipped white cardboard tabs into place and flipped the top of the display over to reveal a pair of intricately printed silver bells that read “Eternal Bliss” in a curlicued font.

“Opening us up to whole new literary market,” she exclaimed, before dashing back to the storeroom. She came back with a case of books, similarly stamped “Eternally Yours.” Andrea abused her vampire speed, unpacking and shelving the books with a flourish and stepping back.

“Ta-da!” she shouted.

“You’ve fallen completely over the edge into asylum territory, haven’t you?”