“Nothing, I suppose. I just thought you and I might go out to dinner tomorrow evening and catch a movie.”
“Katie could go with us. There’s a cool new comedy that we‘re dying to see.”
Dani truly hated comedies unless they were liberally sprinkled with romance. “Go ahead and invite her. We’ll go to dinner, and then I’ll drop you two off at the cinema.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Celeste rewarded Dani’s acquiescence with a quick hug. “You’re the greatest.”
But not so great that her preteen daughter wanted to spend time with her. Dani went back to cleaning off her desk. She kept on top of everything at work, but she tended to let the nonurgent home office duties slide until they threatened to overflow their boundaries.
She slit open the next envelope—an application for a credit card that claimed to do everything except pay itself. She fed it into the shredder and picked up a postcard inviting her to an open house for a new day spa. She scanned it and dropped it into file thirteen. She did the same with a donation request from a charity she’d never heard of.
Which left a gold-bordered envelope staring her in the face. Cripes! The wedding invitation. She’d meant to send her regrets to Bethany Sue weeks ago.
Oh, well, the bride-to-be had probably figured out by now she wasn’t coming. Bethany might already be married and heading for divorce court if this union followed the way of her first two marriages.
She pulled the invitation from the envelope. There were two silhouettes in the muted background. A woman in a flowing Elizabethan gown. A knight in full armor.
Dani’s heart slammed against the walls of her chest as the images from her murderous dream came back to haunt her in vivid details. The rich green of the fabric. The crimson pool of blood.
Get a hold of yourself, Dani Baxter. It was only a stupid nightmare.
She swallowed hard and read the invitation. The nuptials joining Bethany Sue Graves and Arnold Pickering would be celebrated at the Texas Renaissance Festival in Plantersville, Texas.
Dani checked the date. This Sunday. Two days away. The ceremony was at ten in the morning, but there was to be a prewedding dinner celebration on the festival grounds tomorrow night. The reply card said regrets only.
Regrets only? No one did that, especially when there was a dinner involved. Well, no one except Bethany Sue. She’d always followed a different drummer. Actually, she usually followed the sax player.
Dani and Bethany had been friends from seventh grade through high school. Bethany had been one of the few girls at their junior high who didn’t make Dani feel like a freak because her grandmother was a known psychic. At one time they’d been as close as Celeste and her friend Katie were now. They’d shared too many secrets and important moments to count.
They seldom communicated now except for an occasional e-mail or quick phone call. Their lives had gone in vastly different directions. Still, it would be great to see her again—just not this weekend. There was nothing to do but try to reach her by phone and apologize for forgetting to send her regrets in a timely manner.
Dropping the invitation back to the pile, Dani pulled out her cell phone, found Bethany’s number and pushed the call button. Bethany answered on the third ring, the excitement spilling into her hello.
“Is that wedding jitters I hear?”
“Dani, where are you? Arnie and I were just talking about you. He can’t wait to meet you. And, no, there’s not a jitter in my body.”
Which just went to show how naive Bethany still was after two failed marriages. “Great. I couldn’t be happier for you. Does Arnie know how lucky he is?”
“He must. I tell him all the time. So where are you?”
“In Austin. I’m afraid I’ve committed a terrible social faux pas. I should have called as soon as I got the invitation, and, unfortunately, I just realized the reply specified regrets only.”
“And in your case regrets are not acceptable. I can’t get married without you here.”
“I’d love to be there, but I can’t possibly make it this weekend. Celeste has plans and…”
“Celeste will willingly cancel her plans. Did you not even read the note I stuck in the envelope with your invitation?”
Actually she hadn’t even seen the note. She turned the envelope upside down, and the note and accompanying map fell out.
“You must bring Celeste. She’ll love the festival and the party. There will be mimes and jesters and all sorts of courtly entertainment. And, like I said in the note, bring a date, as well. You can even let Celeste bring a friend. The more the merrier.”
“I’m not dating anyone, and I haven’t made reservations. I doubt I could even get a room in…” She checked the invitation again. “In Plantersville.” Wherever that was.
“There aren’t any places to stay in Plantersville. It’s a tiny, rural town. But they just had a cancellation at the bed-and-breakfast near Magnolia where we’re staying. If you call right now, you can get it.
“You will so love the place, Dani. Weather permitting, they serve breakfast on this magnificent veranda. The phone number is on the back of the map I sent you along with that of some motels in The Woodlands.”
“I really wish I could be there, but…”
“No excuses. You simply have to come. And it’s good you’re not bringing a date. I have this terrific man I want you to meet.”
Dani groaned. “That is not a selling point.” Still, a weekend getaway to a Renaissance festival might be fun for her and Celeste. And she did hate to disappoint Bethany Sue.
She did a quick study of the enclosed map. The festival grounds were a few miles off Highway 105, northwest of Houston, probably a good three-hour drive from Austin. “What time is the party tomorrow night?”
“Eight, but come early in the day. You’ll want time to enjoy the festival. There’s so much to see and do.”
“Exactly what does one wear to a Renaissance wedding?”
“Something incredibly sexy and fit for a queen’s ball in the Elizabethan period. But don’t worry, you can buy or rent outfits at the festival. Men’s, women’s and children’s, so you don’t have to pack a thing.”
An Elizabethan ball gown. She didn’t need this now.
“So can I count on you?” Bethany pleaded.
Dani swallowed hard. Being a covert psychic was bad enough. Letting a nightmare dictate her life was sick. “Okay, we’ll be there.”
Now who was afraid of a big, bad dream?
MARCUS ABBOT TUGGED HIS weathered work Stetson a bit lower on his forehead. “Care to repeat that, Cutter Martin, ‘cause I could have sworn you just said you want me to babysit a couple of spoiled Hollywood brats.”
“Just for a day. Lance Harper is in Houston filming a new movie, and he needs a bodyguard for his two daughters while they’re attending the Renaissance festival. It’s just down the road. You’ve probably seen the ads for it around town.”
“I’ve seen the propaganda.” Marcus leaned against the fence post and stared down the snorting bull on the other side of the barbed wire. “This is not the kind of work I signed on for.”
“It’s protection,” Cutter said. “That’s what our name says. Investigation and Protection.”
“Nothing in there about babysitting.” And nothing like the assignment he and Cutter Martin had just completed. They’d gone into Mexico and located and rescued a teenage girl who’d disappeared while on vacation with her family.
Turned