At the time, I’d been tickled to no end by the irony. Apparently, it isn’t really a small world after all.
We all crammed into a boat, Millie and Aunt Sue in front again, and started into the tunnel of singing dolls, the strains of that infectious song hitting my ears even before we entered.
As in the pirate ride, the smell of recirculated water permeated the cool caverns. The corners of the rooms were dark, but dozens of colored lights shone down on the main displays. There were so many things going on at once-dolls and animals and dancing, creatures popping out from corners-it would take a dozen trips through the ride to see them all.
We were about three minutes into the journey through the world of children when the repetitive song began to get to me, and I started getting antsy again. I leaned forward and poked Aunt Sue in the back.
“Hey! Let’s do it.”
Aunt Sue gave an exaggerated over-both-shoulders look, then winked at me. “Operation Hattie Drop commence.”
Oh, brother.
I bit my lip, scanning the rows of dolls for some sort of hidden watchtower as I heard Aunt Sue unscrew the top from her souvenir bottle.
“Shouldn’t we say a few words first?” Millie asked.
I shot her a look. “You’re serious?”
“She deserves to be laid to rest with dignity.”
“We’re in a moving ride, surrounded by the most annoying tune known to man, sung by a bunch of talking dolls, carrying a woman’s ashes around in a Buzz Lightyear soda bottle. I’m pretty sure we passed dignity at least two harebrained schemes ago!”
Again, I could swear Cal was snickering beside me, but he quickly covered it with a cough as I whipped my “don’t start with me, pal” gaze his way.
“Alright, alright, let’s just do this,” Aunt Sue said. “We’re almost to Africa.”
Aunt Sue leaned over the edge of the boat, slowly tipping the contents of her bottle into the water. Grainy white ashes mingled with the chlorinated water, swirling under the boat.
“The Lord is my Shepherd,” Aunt Millie began to recite in a solemn tone. “I shall not want. He maketh me lie down in green pastures.”
I bowed my head, at a loss for what else to do. Cal followed suit beside me. Though, that snicker kicked up again when Millie recited, “He leadeth me beside the still waters.”
I guess in our case, flowing waters and tourist boats. But I kept my trap shut, my head bowed, trying my best to think dignified thoughts as Aunt Millie’s parting words mingled with the strains of “It’s a small world after all!”
Finally she closed with, “I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever. Amen.”
“Amen,” we all repeated. Then I raised my head.
Just as the ride came to a screeching halt.
Oh. Shit.
We’d been caught.
I wildly whipped my head around, my gaze pinging from Aunt Sue’s empty Buzz Lightyear bottle to the singing dolls. I squinted through the darkness, trying to make out if any had glowing red eyes like the security skeleton.
Aunt Sue shoved the bottle back in her bag, clutching the tote closed. Millie sat up straight, clasping her hand in her lap. Cal tensed next to me, instinctively reaching for his missing gun.
We sat like that for a full thirty seconds, my heart hammering in my chest so hard I felt each bruising beat. I held my breath. What was the penalty for unlawful disposing of human remains in a theme park? A slap on the wrist? A fine? Surely not jail time, right?
Just when the patrons of the boats in front and behind us were starting to fidget in their seats, a voice came over the loudspeaker.
“We’re sorry, folks, but there seems to have been a slight mechanical malfunction. We’re going to have cast members escort you from your boats and to the nearest exit one at a time. Please remain seated until a cast member can assist you.”
I let out a sigh of relief. Mechanical malfunction. Thank the gods. We hadn’t been made. We’d just broken the ride.
Fleetingly I wondered if Mrs. Carmichael’s sinking remains had anything to do with that malfunction, but I brushed it aside, telling myself maybe they hadn’t made the canal quite deep enough still in some parts.
Five minutes later, a pair of women in cheery blue uniforms appeared, leading the people three boats ahead of us out of their seats and toward an exit behind one of the curtains. As soon as the people in the boat in front of us saw movement, they got up too, completely ignoring the instructions to wait for a cast member. Pretty soon, every boat had emptied out and the two women in blue were frantically trying to herd people in one straight line out the exit.
“Let’s get the heck out of here,” Aunt Millie said, still nervously glancing back to where we’d deposited Mrs. Carmichael.
I couldn’t agree more.
Cal helped the aunts out of the boat. I followed a step behind, tripping on an animatronic dog and losing my balance. I pitched forward, but a hand grabbed my arm, stopping me from plowing headfirst into a little doll wearing a sombrero.
“Thanks,” I said, turning to thank the kind tourist.
Only, when I looked up, instead of a Panama hat and camera, I came face-to-face with the muzzle of a gun.
Chapter Nineteen
“Stand up slowly. Don’t make any sudden moves,” a voice said. I couldn’t have told you who it came from, though, as my entire being was focused on the gun barrel pointed right at my forehead.
I complied, slowly easing upright, hands up in a surrender motion. I squinted through the colorful lights, trying to make out the face behind the menacing weapon, but it was obscured by the shifting shadows. All I could tell was that the voice was female.
“What do you want?” I asked, even though the gun leveled at me was a pretty clear signal she didn’t want to play Parcheesi.
“I want you,” she said.
“You want me to what?”
“Shut up.”
My gaze darted around for Cal. I caught his retreating back as he protectively put an arm around Aunt Sue, leading her out the exit. God bless him, he was still worried about her getting caught.
Unfortunately, that left me high and dry.
“Back up,” she said, taking a step closer, the gun jutting into my chest. “Behind that tower.”
I glanced behind me, a looming tower painted in sparkles and glitter with a handful of dolls wearing fruit on their heads on top, still dancing and singing.
If I had to pick my least favorite place to die, this would probably be it. Could there be a worse fate than the strains of this stupid song being the last thing on earth that you ever hear?
However, considering I wasn’t the one with the gun, I had little choice. I backed up, praying that one of the ladies in the cheery blue uniforms would see us.
No such luck. Between herding tourists, the colorful lights, the singing dolls, and the boats backing up one after another behind us, no one even glanced our way.
I walked slowly backward, deliberately veering to the left, where a stream of pink light shone down from overhead. As my captor followed me, the light played across her face.
I sucked in a breath. “You! You’re the one who’s been threatening me?”
Lani Cline chuckled. “Gee, what tipped you off, Sherlock?”
I narrowed my eyes at Jennifer Wood’s co-star. Hey, you try being brilliant when you’ve got a gun pointed at your tatas.
“You killed Hattie Carmichael,” I said, the gears in my head churning overtime.
“Who?” she asked.
“My neighbor.”
“The old lady in your condo?”
I nodded, though I wasn’t sure she could see me through the darkness.
“Look, I swear she was an accident,” Lani said, in her perky fake-teen voice. “All I meant to do was trash your place, scare you. But this nosy old hag comes barging in like she owns the place, yelling about the TV being too loud. I didn’t have any choice. I had to shut her up.”