Greg had never seen his church auditorium filled to capacity. If any more people came, he thought, the usher would be forced to open the balcony. Mallie Mae had insisted the balcony not be used until the main floor pews were packed tight. When her son and her new daughter-in-law turned to walk out as man and wife, she did not want them to see any gaps in the congregation. The more crowded it looked, the more love they’d feel.
On the floor level, there were thirty pews—fifteen on each side, with an isle down the middle. And for weddings, having a center isle was always preferable. The official seating capacity for the auditorium was 350, which included fifty in the balcony. But because it was bench-style seating rather than individual seats, nobody really knew exactly how many bodies could be squeezed in. Certainly more people than they ever saw on Sunday mornings. And probably a much larger number than the Fire Marshall would approve of.
Greg, Cynthia, and Beverly were sitting on the right side. It would have been just as appropriate for them to sit on the bride’s side, since they hadn’t met Elmo or Macy until two weeks earlier in the hideaway hospital. But it didn’t matter since both sides were packed with the Mobleys’ friends and Elmo’s former patients and parents of patients.
Greg checked his watch. In about four minutes the pastor, Elmo, and his best man would come out and take their places, and the organist would begin to play. Then something to the left caught his eye. An attractive young woman with short, black hair had opened the side door near the piano, and was looking out into the crowd. She’s wondering if there’s any place to sit, he thought. Then he saw her look up at the balcony.
“Sweetie, does that woman look familiar to you?”
Cynthia broke off the conversation with her mother and turned to him. “What did you say, Baby?”
“See that woman over—. Never mind—she’s already gone.”
“Mom and I were just talking about what an amazing turnout this is.”
“Yeah.”
“The Cleggmores have a huge family, don’t they?”
Greg didn’t answer. He looked as though he’d just thought of something important he’d forgotten to do.
“Greg?”
“I’ve got to go check something.” He stood and walked toward the front of the auditorium.
“But it’s about to start.”
He hurried out the door where he had seen the mystery woman standing.
No sooner than Greg had disappeared through the door, Dr. Huff, Elmo, and Hadley walked out from the opposite side near the organ, and stepped up on the platform. The groom was very handsome in his tux. He was 56 years old, but he looked more like 46—which was great, since his bride was only 37. Hadley looked great too. He was still having some pain from Carnie’s gunshot, but you would have never known it by looking at him.
The organist played the familiar unison notes at the beginning of the Bridal Chorus and over 300 people stood and turned around to see the beautiful bride, ready to enter. Traditionally, the father walks his daughter down the aisle. But since Macy’s dad had passed away, as well as her mom, Mallie Mae offered to walk her down and give her away. After all, she was giving away her nurse and best friend. But at least they would still be living in the same house.
Macy’s eyes were filled with tears of joy. She worried about ruining her makeup, but she just couldn’t control her overwhelming emotions. Nor did she want to. It was just like in her dreams, she thought.
Although, she didn’t remember who was walking her down the aisle in her dreams. What she remembered vividly was Carsie standing in the congregation, staring at her as she walked by.
Carsie had escaped, and the police had not been able to find her. But surely she wouldn’t have the gall to come to the wedding. Would she?
*
The woman with the short, black hair could see the bride at the front of the church when she came through the main outdoor entrance into the foyer. She saw Mallie Mae lift the veil and kiss Macy on the cheek.
A young, male usher closed the double doors leading into the auditorium. When he turned and saw the woman, he said, “I think there’s still a little room on the left side in the back.” He eyed her tweed guitar case. “Cool. So, I guess you’re playing for the reception.”
“Yeah. Hey, I don’t want to disturb anybody. I’ll just sit up in the balcony.”
“Uh, Mrs. Mobley told us not to let anybody go up there.”
“Oh, Mallie Mae is so silly about these things.” She rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry—if she gripes about it, I’ll take the blame. Like I always do.”
“Well, okay.”
As she walked away, she could feel his eyes checking her out. You’ve still got it, Baby, she thought.
When she stepped into the balcony, she realized there might be a problem. Nobody in the building had a clear view of the balcony—except the pastor. Why hadn’t she thought of that? But then she realized that because the pastor was medium height, she could avoid being seen by him if she hid behind the 6-foot-7 Elmo. So, she crept up to the railing, a little to the right of center.
She laid her guitar case down on the carpet and quietly opened the lid and admired her instrument of choice for this special occasion. By tearing out the fitted padding and replacing it with two sheets of foam rubber, she had created a perfect carrying case for her $529.00 compound bow. It was a thing of beauty. More beautiful than the bride.
It would have been easier to do it while their backs were to her. But she would wait until the end of the ceremony, when they turned to face the congregation and the minister introduced the newly married couple to the crowd. Elmo and Macy would be so caught up in their happiness that they wouldn’t even notice her.
Family and friends would see Elmo and Macy smiling broadly just before the arrow appeared from nowhere and savagely ripped through the bride’s heart. Macy would look up into the balcony as the blood began to flow down her lovely white gown. She would see Carsie standing there proudly, bow in hand, and then fall to the floor.
Afterwards, it would be impossible for Carsie to escape. She would be taken into custody—but they would never have the satisfaction of putting her behind bars. The little poison capsule in her pocket would see to that.
Carsie listened to the vows and thought about how different things could have been. If Mallie Mae and Macy hadn’t interfered, it would have been her down there becoming the doctor’s wife.
During the prayer that came right before the kiss, Carsie picked up the arrow and got into position. Her accuracy was back. There was no doubt that she would nail her target.
She watched as the pastor pronounced them husband and wife, and then said, “Elmo, you may kiss the bride.”
The crowd ooh’ed and aah’ed as Elmo gave Macy a long kiss. Then they turned to face the congregation, and the pastor said, “Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Dr. and Mrs. Elmo Mobley.”
Carsie drew her bow. It would be a perfect shot.
The congregation heard a loud crack and a swoosh, and were terrified to see an arrow slice through the air just above the heads of the happy couple, and fly into the choir loft, piercing the drywall.
Greg stood over an unconscious Carsie with the unlikely weapon still in his hand—a large print hymn book. He had whacked her over the head just in time. He yelled to the stunned couple, “It’s okay now. Everything’s under control.”
He flipped open his cell phone, dialed 911, and reported the attempted murder. He hadn’t recognized her at first because of the wig. He shivered when he thought about the disaster that could have been.
Then he saw her waking up and wondered if she had a knife or a gun.
“Did I get her? Is she dead?”
“No. Everybody’s fine. You missed.”
She tried to sit up, but didn’t have the strength. “I’ve got to kill her.”
“No. You’re not going to kill her. The police will be here any minute.”
“You don’t understand. She was supposed to die_ first_—then_ I_ would die.”
“Well, I don’t think you’re going to die. You’re probably going to have a big headache. And then you’re going to spend a long time in prison, but—”
“—no. I am going to die. I’m dying right now.”
“Oh, come on—I didn’t hit you that hard.”
“Tell Elmo I love him. He was my only true love—ever.” Her eyes slowly closed.
“Carsie?” He knelt beside her. “Carsie?” Surely he hadn’t killed her. He felt for a pulse, but couldn’t find one. So, he began to perform CPR.
Still no breathing. No pulse. He had not meant to kill her.
Though unsuccessful, Carsie had followed her plan—using one arrow. And one little capsule.