Traversing the endless lobby of the MGM seemed to take forever. The thought of what would happen if someone realized they were sneaking a dead body past scores of people and banks of security cameras had a cold sweat breaking out on Blane’s forehead.
“Are we supposed to put him in a cab or something?” he hissed to Kade.
“I’ve got my car,” Mannie piped up, brandishing a valet ticket.
“Guess the midget’s gonna drive,” Kade said.
“Don’t call me that,” Mannie snapped. “It’s rude.”
Kade snorted. “Fine. What should I call you? Half-pint? Munchkin? Vertically challenged? No, lemme guess…Sneezy.”
If Blane could’ve kicked Kade, he would have. All Mannie had to do was yell and point and they’d be spending God only knew how long in a Vegas jail trying to explain what they couldn’t even remember. Thankfully, Mannie didn’t do that.
“We prefer Little People, or LP for short,” Mannie said.
“Really?” Kade asked.
“Yeah, why?”
Kade shrugged. “I think that’s worse. Midget or dwarf sounds way cooler.”
Mannie looked thoughtful. “You think so?”
“I’m just saying, if it was me, ‘little’ would be the last adjective I’d want somebody calling me.”
“Kade,” Blane hissed. “Will you just shut the fuck up?”
Kade shifted Ray’s arm across his shoulder. “Fine. Whatever. Just saying.”
Mannie jogged ahead to give his ticket to the valet while Blane and Kade stood to the side, dead guy between them, and tried to be casual. To Blane’s discomfort, way too many people looked twice.
“People are watching,” he said in an undertone to Kade.
“Probably should’ve cleaned up first,” Kade mused. “You still have blood on your shirt.”
Blane glanced down and grimaced. Kade was right. Shit.
“Maybe your wife knows how to get that stain out.”
“Knock it off,” Blane groused.
Kade grinned, unrepentant.
The valet pulled up a two-door purple Scion. Neither man paid attention…until Mannie hurried forward to the driver’s side.
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Blane growled. How they were going to get two grown men and a dead body into the car, he had no idea.
“I call shotgun,” Kade said.
Fuck.
***
Blane shoved Ray’s leg further onto his side. They were squeezed so tight in the back seat, that Ray’s position would have been anatomically impossible had he been alive rather than dead. Blane felt slightly guilty for being glad that Ray’s body wasn’t yet fully suffering from rigor mortis. He could tell it was happening though. They didn’t have much longer before he’d be stiff as a board.
So to speak.
“Where are we going?” he asked. Please don’t say the Elvis Chapel. Please don’t say the Elvis Chapel. Please don’t—
“Little Church of the West,” Kade said.
Thank God.
“I’m starving. Let’s run through a drive-thru.”
Blane stared at Kade. “Tell me you’re not serious. Don’t we have more important things to worry about?”
“It’ll only take a minute,” Kade said, pointing Mannie toward a McDonalds. “You don’t want to meet your bride on an empty stomach, do you?”
Blane grunted, grudgingly admitting that he was hungry, too. Thirty bucks, six burgers, super-size fries, and mega Cokes later, he felt better.
“How can you guys eat with a dead guy in the car?” Mannie asked, wrinkling his nose at them in disgust. “He stinks.”
Ray was starting to smell, but it didn’t really bother Blane, or Kade, it seemed. He thought it was probably because they’d both been around dead bodies before. Blane when he was in the Navy and deployed to the front lines of Afghanistan, and Kade…well, Kade usually had a hand in the dead bodies he came across.
They pulled up to a little wooden church and Mannie parked. Blane climbed out after Kade, stretching his back and the crick in his neck.
Heading up the walkway, they stopped in their tracks when the doors opened and a bride and groom came out. The bride dressed in a white gown with a billowing skirt, the groom in a suit and tie. She carried a bouquet of pink roses and they were holding hands, grins on both their faces. The groom pulled her to a stop for a long kiss.
“Aw, look at that,” Kade sneered. “So sweet, I may vomit.”
Blane led the way around the still-kissing couple and headed inside.
It was small, but nice, for what it was. A woman was standing by a small desk in the corner, going through some papers. She glanced up when they walked in.
“Sorry, gentlemen,” she said brusquely. “We don’t perform same sex marriages here, but I can give you a list of places that do.” She turned away and began rummaging through a drawer in the desk.
Mannie snorted and Kade just looked appalled. Blane stepped up.