Rude Awakenings: A Novel of the Terribly Acronymed Detective Club (Book 2)

Chapter Thirty-Five: Al, Monday

Al was on his knees and digging before he knew what he was doing. Digging like a dog, with his hands.

"Al!" Lauren barked. "Stop!"

As if he were a dog that had been swiped on the nose with a rolled-up newspaper, he snapped out of his tail-chasing frenzy and blinked in the sudden darkness, having dropped the flashlight in his haste to begin.

"Al," Lauren said. "I know what you're thinking, but it's wrong. It has to be."

"What if it's not?" he cried. "What if it's Rachel under there? What if it's Joe?"

"If it is, then you've just implicated yourself, and can at least be charged with improper disposal of a body. The evidence is right on your hands. We have to stop and think about this."

The threat of jail time was enough to make him pause, at least for a minute. He grabbed his flashlight and illuminated the whole mound.

"It doesn't look long enough to be either of them," Lauren said. "Rachel's as tall as you are, and Joe would need a hole nearly twice that size."

"So... what?" he said, and then his stomach dropped. "What if it's a kid?"

"What if it's a pet grave," Lauren said, shaking her head. "That would be the more logical answer. Horses, not zebras."

"I have to know either way."

Lauren looked at it a moment, thinking. "We're going to need a shovel."

"I don't suppose you have one, do you?"

"There's one in the van. We keep it in case we get stuck in snow. You stay here so I can find my way back to you."

"Wait, are you sure that's wise? It's pretty dark now. I should go with you."

She smirked. "Chivalry is unbecoming of you, Al. I can take care of myself."

"I have no doubt about that. It's more that I don't want to be left alone in the dark."

She burst out laughing. "All right, all right. Maybe we can leave some breadcrumbs."

She ended up spraypainting a series of dots leading from the mound to the edge of the dig, and the pink ended up quite visible against the black dirt, especially when the flashlights made it luminescent. "There," she said.

"Ingenuity," Al said, and nodded. "Thanks, Lauren."

They walked in silence back around the edge of the dig, and when they reached the end of the street, they discovered the second surprise of the night.

The van was gone.

"What the fuck?!" Lauren squawked.

Al stared at the empty space where the van was, and suddenly started laughing. He couldn't help it. It was as if all the stress, anxiety and fear of the past couple of days needed a pressure valve to seep through, and this was it. His whole body shook with guffaws, and it scared him a little, because he was having trouble getting air into his lungs, and he leaned over, hands on his knees, while every muscle in his trunk spasmed with mirth.

It took Lauren slapping his face to make him stop. "Al!" she snapped. "Come on! You need to focus! Don't go losing it on me, okay?"

He took a deep breath, calmed down and looked up at Lauren, who only just seemed to be holding it together herself, chin quivering, eyes brimming. "I'm sorry," he said, gasping. "I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry I had to hit you."

"It needed to be done." He offered his hand to her. "Friends?"

She had none of that and threw her arms around him instead. She squeezed hard for someone so small, but Al didn't mind. He squeezed back just as hard, and he heard her sniffling into the nape of his neck.