CHAPTER SEVEN
Those first two weeks of Myra's new life flew by and she began to feel as if she belonged. Already it was the day of the engagement party and she spent most of the day in a state of excitement until three-thirty when it was time for Horace to take her to the diner. The guests had been invited for four o'clock and they needed to be there first to greet everyone. Myra put on the red dress Horace had bought her and a matching pair of shoes she had picked up later, then pinned her hair up neatly and added the faintest touch of lipstick. Horace was right of course, the dress did match her ring and it was beautiful fabric. She just didn't think it did much for her colouring.
Grace had decorated the diner with red and white balloons and streamers and a huge banner with 'Happy Engagement' on it. The chairs had all been positioned around two sides of the building, leaving the centre free for dancing. The tables were pushed together at the far end to make a large buffet table which was laden with party food and Horace's friend Tom had set up his equipment in one corner with a mixing desk, speakers and lights.
By four-fifteen everyone who had been invited had arrived and people milled around with plates of food, chattering and offering congratulations to the couple. Tom played a selection of music quietly in the background until six, when the Reverend called for attention and gave a short speech, finishing with wishing Myra and Horace a wonderful wedding day and a happy life together.
"So when's the weddin'?" Loren Bray called out with a grin. "Ya set a date yet?"
"We've been talkin' to the Reverend," said Myra, slipping her hand into Horace's and squeezing it. "It's six months before we can get a date for the church, but we can get married in the registry office in a month. We can always get a blessin' in church later. The registry office'll do for now, at least we'll be married. It's gonna be on Valentine's Day."
"I'll be sure to put it on my calendar," Hank drawled from the open door at that moment. "Assumin' I'm invited."
Myra's breath caught in her throat and her nails dug into Horace's palm. What was he doing here? No one seemed to have even noticed him until he spoke.
Horace straightened his shoulders and glared at the intruder. "As a matter of fact you ain't, Hank," he said.
Hank took a few steps into the room. He lurched drunkenly and put his hand out to steady himself on one of the pillars. "What kinda gratitude is that, Horace?" he slurred. "It's the least ya can do after stealin' what was mine."
"She never was yours, Hank," said Horace boldly.
"She was mine plenty of times," grinned Hank.
Several people gasped and Myra felt her face reddening. Her heart thumped and she prayed that someone would remove Hank before he ruined the party.
"That's uncalled for," Dr Mike said sharply.
"It's the liquor talkin'," put in Jake. Jake hadn't been invited either, but had turned up with Loren as his 'and guest'.
"It ain't only liquor," Myra said softly. She had caught a glimpse of Hank's eyes and seen the widely dilated pupils. He was clearly as high as a kite. That damned powder he insisted on shoving up his nose made him more unpredictable than usual.
"You oughta know, Jake," Hank continued, starting forward again.
"Go home," Jake said. "You're makin' a fool of yourself, friend."
"You ain't no friend of mine, you're just a worthless drunk," said Hank.
"Look who's talkin'," muttered Loren. "We've had just about enough of you, Hank."
"You better leave." Jake went towards him and gripped his arm. "I'll drive ya back to the club, at least I ain't drunk too much to drive."
Hank shook him off angrily. "Not till I give the bride her weddin' present." He shoved Jake further away from him, then reached around his back, pulling his shirt up. A moment later his hand emerged again with a gun in it.
More people gasped and some screamed, most beginning to back away. Myra pulled her hand free of Horace's and took a few steps forward. The party was already spoiled but she was damned if she was going to let Hank hurt any of her friends.
"Myra!" cried Horace. Sully gripped his arm to stop him following her.
"Do ya really think I'd let ya go through with this? Marryin' him?" said Hank.
"Put the gun away, Hank," Myra said quietly. "What do ya think you're doin'? You'll go to jail."
Hank lifted the gun slowly and aimed it at her, pulling back the hammer. She stopped still.
"Are ya crazy?" cried Jake.
"Think about what you're doing, Hank!" gasped the Reverend.
"Somebody could get hurt," Loren added.
"Somebody already did," Hank said, taking another step forward, the barrel of the gun pointing right at Myra's forehead. "I ain't gonna let ya do this. I'll kill ya first."
Myra closed her eyes and stood there motionless. She was shaking from head to foot, but he had made threats before. It was mostly the chemicals talking. "What are ya waitin' for, Hank? Pull the trigger. You'll never have me then."
A number of people gasped again and muttered that Myra was insane. Others said Hank should be locked up. What happened next was so fast that no one realised exactly what was going on at first. Two figures appeared through the door behind Hank, guns in their hands. One crept up to the pillar and paused behind it, aiming his gun at Hank's head. The other sprang forward, cracked his pistol down hard on Hank's wrist, making him drop his own gun and catching it with his free hand as it fell. The man behind the pillar rushed out and the pair of them wrestled Hank's arms behind his back, handcuffed him and shoved him to the floor. He struggled furiously, kicking out and catching one of his captors in the shins. The second younger man raised his foot and brought it down none too gently on the back of Hank's neck to keep him down. Panting, Matthew Cooper looked around at the anxious crowd.
"Sorry we're late, folks," he said.
"Seems like you're right on time," Sully smiled.
"Nice work, fellas," Loren said.
Myra turned away and fell into Horace's arms as Matthew and his partner hauled Hank to his feet. They began hustling him out of the room, Matthew jabbing him in the back with his pistol a couple of times as he swore and spat and dragged his feet.
"Are you alright, Myra?" Horace asked shakily. She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. "I hope they lock that maniac up and throw away the key," he muttered.
"They probably will."
"Alright, folks, drama's over!" shouted out Sully suddenly. "Let's get the party goin', shall we?"
Tom immediately turned up the music and after a few more minutes of uncertainty, everyone began to enjoy themselves again, except for Myra who couldn't shift the sick feeling which had settled in her stomach when Hank aimed his gun at her.
