Page 68 of (My Accidental) Killer Summer
I throw the SUV into reverse and slam the pedal—nearly back into a Porta Potty. Because of course.
“Would you calm the fuck down?” I hiss. “You’re freaking me out!”
“I have nothing to do with your focus!”
“Would you just act normal, please?”
“We’re literally carrying a corpse. What part of this is normal?”
A security truck starts rolling toward us, headlights flashing. We both duck like we’re in a life-sized Wack-a-mole. This time I remember the brakes.
“Okay, okay,” I whisper, turning to Amy. “What do we do?”
“Well, I don’t think it’s a good idea to stay here,” she hisses.
“Thanks, Einstein.”
I peek up. The truck stops, no one gets out.
“Okay, I don’t think he’s coming after us. Not yet.”
“I bet you’re really happy I covered the license plates now, huh?”
I start easing us back down the gravel road, eyes glued to the backup camera. “Yeah, unless we get pulled over and the cop asks why we have covered plates and a dead guy in the trunk.”
“That’s called living life on the edge, baby.” She cackles—high and wild—and somehow it makes me laugh, too.
“You’re a lunatic.”
“Takes one to know one.”
“Touché.” I tick a finger in the air like I’m awarding her a point.
“Okay,” she says, clapping her hands like we’re in a boardroom, not a mobile crime scene. “Plan B.”
“Do we even have a Plan B?”
“We’re going to bury him in your backyard. Remember?”
“I think I was trying to forget.” I hit the paved road again and sit all the way up so I can see. “What about nosy Nancy?”
“If she sees us, we’ll have to kill her too.”
I blanch. “Are you serious?”
Amy’s eyes light up. “Isn’t it fun trying to figure that part out?”
I blink. “Ohmigod! Whoareyou?”
“Relax, little miss murderer. She’s not going to see us. We’ll figure it out.”
I practice deep breathing.
Doug makes another unfortunate thump.
“I hate having him in the car.”
Amy sighs. “We should’ve rented a boat.”
