Название | Cowboy to the Core |
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Автор произведения | Joanna Wayne |
Жанр | Зарубежные детективы |
Серия | |
Издательство | Зарубежные детективы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781408917510 |
“I’m seriously out of practice,” Dani called after her.
Bethany either didn’t hear or chose to ignore her. Dani imagined it was the latter. She’d protest again tonight, but it would be a wasted effort. Bethany was not one to take no for a final answer, and it would be pretty crummy to refuse a bride in distress.
The good thing was that other than Celeste and Katie, she would neither know the guests nor have to face them again after she murdered the music.
Murdered. Even thinking the word gave her chills after this morning’s hallucinations. They’d been so intense that Dani had actually felt the thrust of the blade as it punctured the walls of the chest and sliced into the victim’s heart—as if it were happening to her.
In broad daylight. Eyes wide open, at least they had been until she’d passed out.
“You should have seen the jugglers, Mom. They were funny and really good.”
Startled, Dani jumped and then spun around to face the girls.
“Are you okay?” Katie asked. “You look kind of pale.”
“Eeks, you do,” Celeste agreed. “You’re not going to faint again, are you?”
“I’m not pale. I just haven’t gotten enough sun lately. Today’s the day for it.”
“Where’d the cute cowboy go?” Katie asked.
“Who needs a cute cowboy when I have you two? Now tell me about the jugglers.” She forced the disturbing memories to the back of her mind. She had to get a hold of her emotions and regain her stability before she turned this whole weekend into a fiasco.
“The jugglers were really cool,” Katie said, thankfully changing the topic of conversation. “They even juggled fiery batons.”
“And they threw a knife and chopped the end off a carrot a woman was holding in her mouth.” Celeste used her hand to show how close the knife had come to the woman’s nose. “I never would have trusted them to try that with me.”
“Good for you,” Dani said. “Any ideas what we should do next, or should we just walk and take in the sights?”
“A boy sitting next to us said we should be sure and go to the jousting exhibition,” Katie said. “He said it’s all staged but that it looks real and sometimes the guys get knocked off their horses.”
“And you can cheer for whichever rider you want to win,” Celeste added, then turned to watch a rickshaw go by that was being pulled by a scantily clad slave lad. The pseudo lord and lady riding in the cart waved.
“This is so neat,” Katie said. “Like taking a time machine into the past. I can’t wait until we get our costumes for tonight’s party.”
Dani wasn’t quite up to that yet. She checked the program and her watch. “The next jousting exhibition is at one o’clock. That gives us twenty minutes, if you want to make that performance.”
“Let’s do it,” Celeste and Katie said in unison.
A few seconds later they’d checked the map and were on their way across the festival grounds to the day’s next adventure. The girls hurried ahead but stopped frequently to peek at wares on display outside of the shops—jewelry; sandals; pewter, fire-breathing dragons cast in stone. Some findings were far more authentic than others. All of them captured the Renaissance spirit.
The spirit of revelry started to dissolve Dani’s misgivings about having come here today. Maybe the warning was just for her not to buy a green dress for the party or wedding. No problem there. She’d go in her jeans first.
But suppose someone else wore that dress to the party, maybe even Bethany Sue?
She shook her head to clear it, then stood perfectly still when she got this disconcerting feeling that someone was watching her. She turned. No one was paying her the slightest attention, not with two busty wenches posing for pictures near the beer stand.
If she was going to be this jumpy all weekend, she should just pack it up and go home. Or perhaps she should have held on to the sexy cowboy a while longer, even invited him to the party tonight as her guest. A new image took hold in her mind, this one of her in Marcus Abbot’s arms, dancing beneath a star-studded sky.
The slow burn that settled between her thighs sent a quick flush to her cheeks. Lusting after strangers was not her style. She had to get out more. It had been months—no, make that a solid year—since she’d had any intimate contact with a man.
With good reason, she reminded herself. Her last date had been a miserable exercise in how much boredom she could endure.
As a group of sexy wenches passed, a young teenage boy walked up to her and stuck out a note. “I’m supposed to give you this.”
Dani took the slip of paper and read the message that was printed in black ink.
Beware of the dark knight.
The boy started to walk away. She slipped the note into her pocket and hurried to catch up with him. “Why did you give me that?”
“That man back there asked me to.”
“What man? Show me.”
He looked around. “I don’t see him now, but he was standing right back there by that tree a minute ago.”
“Was he wearing a cowboy hat?”
“Naw.”
“In costume?”
The kid shook his head. “He was just dressed like a regular dude. Had on a blue polo shirt. That’s all I know.”
A blue knit shirt, like the man she’d thought was watching her in the dress shop. “Did he have dark brown hair?”
“Yeah, maybe. I gotta go catch up with my friends.”
Dani pulled out the note and reread it, growing more perturbed by the second. She stuffed it back into her pocket when she saw the girls approaching.
“Hey, Mom, you dropped this.”
The cowboy’s business card. Dani must have lost it when she was fiddling with the note.
“Marcus Abbot,” Celeste read from the card. “Double M Investigation and Protection Service. No boundaries, No limits. No job too tough.” She handed the card back to Dani.
“Cool. A Rambo,” Katie said.
“I think that means he’s a private detective, not a commando,” Dani said. But the card did advertise protection and no limits. She could hire him. And he’d laugh her right off the planet when she told him she needed protection from a dark knight.
“There’s the jousting arena,” Katie said, pointing dead ahead of them to a huge circular wall adorned by busts.
Beware the dark knight.
A dagger plunged into a woman’s heart.
“Hurry, Mom. We want to get a good seat.”
Marcus’s card felt as if it were burning the palm of her hand, all but making the decision for her. “Go ahead,” she called. “Save me a seat. Something’s come up at work, and I have to make a quick phone call.”
She might have a date for tonight’s party after all.
Chapter Three
Marcus was watching a pair of youngsters being hoisted onto the back of a large and extremely wrinkled elephant when his cell phone rang. The caller ID merely indicated a wireless connection. He punched the talk button. “Hello?”
“Marcus?”
He