know,â he said.
They grinned at each other.
âWhere is Angie?â she asked.
âBathroom,â he said.
Mel nodded. She turned back to the next customer, and she and Tate double-teamed the window, getting the cupcakes out as fast as the zombies could order them.
When there was finally a lull, Tate nudged her towards the back door. âTake a break,â he said. âI can handle the horde.â
âThanks,â Mel said. She didnât admit it to Tate, but she was eager to find Angie and hear her side of the Roach encounter. It had to be a little weird to have your ex sing a song about you to a crowd of, well, monsters.
Mel circled the van and found Oz taking pictures of people as they climbed into the casket. Some went for the grisly fresh-from-the-grave look while others pretended to be dead, and the last two girls had fits of the giggles and could barely stay in the coffin long enough to have their picture snapped.
âWhereâs Angie?â she asked.
Oz handed the cell phone back to the girls, who were still giggling. One of them cast Oz a look of longing, which Mel noted he was oblivious to, no doubt because he was utterly smitten with his girlfriend Lupe.
Oz glanced around the area, looking for Angie as if heâd misplaced her. Then he frowned.
âI havenât seen her,â he said.
Mel assumed Angie must still be in the restroom. She didnât envy her the problem of trying to maneuver into a public stall in her big poufy dress. Then again the bakery was only a five-minute walk at best; maybe sheâd gone there.
âWhy donât you take a break?â Mel asked. âI can manage the coffin for a spell.â
âAre you sure?â he asked. âSome of these people are sort of scary.â
âNothing can be scarier than a real dead body,â Mel said. âSadly, Iâve had enough experience with those to tell the difference. This is nothing.â
Oz nodded and said, âPoint made. Iâll be back in five.â
âTake your time,â Mel called after him as he stepped into the crowd.
Oz hadnât been gone more than a few seconds when Mel heard a shout coming from the direction heâd taken. She stood up on her tiptoes and tried to see over the crowd. A man, a very large man, with a scraggly beard that ended in a braid in the middle of his chest had grabbed Oz by the shirtfront and was shaking him. This was no small feat given that Oz was a big boy, having several inches and many pounds over Mel.
âTate!â Mel stuck her head in the open window of the truck. âTate, come quick! Oz is in trouble.â
Tate shoved a cupcake at the ghoul in front of him and hunkered down to look out the window. Immediately, he slammed the window shut and jumped out of the back of the van.
âLock it up!â he yelled at Mel as he threw himself into the melee.
Mel grabbed her keys and hurriedly closed the windows on the van before locking it up. Then she stuffed her keys in her pocket and raced after Tate.
âI saw you touch her, man,â the thug growled into Ozâs face while still holding him by the shirtfront.
âHey, now,â Tate said as he moved in between them. âIâm sure it was just an accident. Right, Oz?â
Oz was glaring at the man who held him. âLike I already said, I got shoved into your girl. I said I was sorry. What more do you want?â
âYour blood,â the man sneered. Then he pulled out a very large switchblade and snapped it open.
âWhoa!â Tate shouted. âAre you nuts? Put that away before someone gets hurt.â
Mel cringed. That was the voice of the old buttoned-down power-suit-wearing Tate. While that voice might make administrative assistants scurry and junior execs cower, it wasnât going to do jack on a guy who looked like he snacked on bats and spiders for milk and cookie time.
âNot helping, Tate,â Oz choked out as the