“Banished again! How cruel, how heartless, I like it,” Joseph said melodramatically. He was clearly working on getting into character.
Cindy went upstairs with Geanie and once they were in the master bedroom Geanie started giggling like she was losing her mind.
“What is it?”
“I can’t tell you, but it’s going to be epic,” Geanie said.
“Okay, then let’s see your dress.”
Geanie walked over to a garment bag hanging on a hook on the wall and pulled out a perfect replica of the Morticia dress from the movie.
“Wow,” Cindy said as Geanie brought it over. “Is that the real one?”
“No. I made this one.”
“You made it?”
“Yup. I made Joseph’s costume, too. The hardest part was finding the right materials.”
Cindy shook her head in amazement. It was just part of the enigma that was Geanie and Joseph. They had all the money in the world and had bought her an expensive, authentic dress from the actual film she loved, and yet when it came to their costumes Geanie had made them herself instead of tracking down the originals or paying someone else to make them.
She shouldn’t have been surprised. Part of the reason she was there early was Geanie had enlisted her help making some of the finger foods for the party even though the desserts were being provided by a caterer.
“You must have put a lot of work into this,” she said, admiring the dress.
“It took weeks,” Geanie said. “But, it will all be worth it tonight. I’m planning on getting lots of pictures.”
“Did you hire a photographer?”
“No, I figured we could just use our cameras. You think I should have?”
“Nah. Everyone will be taking a million pictures with their phones anyway.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Geanie ended up doing Cindy’s hair and makeup for her, and she was blown away by the results when she finally saw herself in the mirror. Once she put the dress on and had safety pinned it so it was nice and snug on top she twirled in the dress.
Geanie clapped her hands. “You look like a real Spanish señorita!” She gave her a little curtsey, “Señorita de la Vega!”
“I can’t believe it,” Cindy said, admiring the entire effect in the full-length mirror in the room.
“Believe it, you look amazing,” Geanie said as she set to work on her own hair.
Forty-five minutes later Cindy was seated across from Geanie and Joseph in a black Cinderella style carriage drawn by four massive black horses as it rolled slowly down the hill. It really did feel like they were driving in style and it helped Cindy get into the mood of a character from a bygone era.
They reached the lower parking lot just as a familiar car was pulling up. Mark stepped out of the car. He looked beyond tired. His movements were slow and his face was haggard. Cindy was stunned to see that he was actually wearing a costume. He was dressed up like Dick Tracy.
The passenger side door opened and Lizzie appeared, looking a lot better than the last time Cindy had seen her. Together they walked up to the carriage. Joseph opened the door and the two climbed in settling next to Cindy.
The driver turned the horses and in short order they were heading up the hill back toward the mansion. Mark leaned his head back.
“Trina’s heading out of town tonight and is going to take Lizzie with her into protective federal custody until the rest of the coven is caught. Trina had some stuff to take care of this afternoon, though, so we decided to meet here,” Mark explained.
“We’re happy to help in any way that we can,” Joseph said.
“I figured we were probably safer here than at home.”
Whatever the reason Cindy was relieved that Mark wouldn’t be alone that night. A couple minutes later the driver pulled up in front of the mansion with a grand flourish.
“Wow,” Lizzie said as she stepped out of the carriage.
Even Mark managed to look impressed.
“Let’s head inside and start attacking the food table,” Geanie said cheerily as she disembarked.
That was precisely what the four of them did. Within five minutes other people began to arrive and the energy in the air was high as people laughed and admired the theming for the party.
Half an hour later the orchestra began playing and couples began migrating to the ballroom. Cindy went along to watch and admire some of the dancers who moved with such grace and ease across the floor that she couldn’t help but wonder if they were professional dancers. The orchestra seemed to be playing a mixture of Halloween themed tunes and the scores from different films.
As one song was coming to an end a thickly accented Spanish voice spoke behind her. “May I have this dance?”
She turned, getting ready to tell whoever it was that she didn’t really dance. She froze before she could say anything, though.
She was staring at Zorro.
He swept low in a courtly bow and when he straightened he gave her a dazzling smile that she recognized.
It was Jeremiah dressed up in a Zorro costume, right down to the cloak and sword. He offered her his hand and she placed hers in it.
“I have to warn you, señor, I’m not a very good dancer,” she admitted.
“That is alright. As it turns out, I’m an excellent dancer,” he said.
He put his other arm around her waist and a moment later he had swept her onto the dance floor just as the first strains of I Want to Spend My Lifetime Loving You began to play. It was the love theme from The Mask of Zorro.
Jeremiah was right. He was an amazing dancer and with gentle but firm moves of his hands he guided her in where to go, when to turn, until it felt like they were flying across the floor and that she knew how to dance as well. The more she relaxed into his arms, the more she trusted him, the faster they danced, beginning to move across the floor as one.
Everything else faded away until there was only the two of them and the music driving them onward. When at last it stopped, he twirled her in his arms and then walked with her side-by-side off the dance floor.
“Zorro. Geanie’s idea?” she asked, trying to catch her breath.
“Yes, she told me that it would be perfect. Now I see why.”
Cindy leaned her head on Jeremiah’s shoulder as they walked. Everywhere she looked she saw smiling people in costumes of all sorts. A group of young women had dressed up like the Greek muses and were posing on the grand staircase while a lanky photographer took their picture.
“You look amazing,” Jeremiah said.
“You’re pretty gorgeous yourself.”
They strolled outside, taking in some of the cool, crisp night air. After a few minutes they returned inside and walked into the sitting room where chairs and couches were draped in black fabric. Mark was sitting on one of the couches, phone pressed to his ear.
“It’s nearly a perfect night,” Cindy commented.
“Nearly?” Jeremiah questioned.
“I wish Traci had come.”
“Maybe she’ll come around still. At least she knows her sister is safe.”
Cindy nodded. She didn’t see Lizzie and she wondered if the F.B.I. agent had already come to get her. “I wish they’d caught all the members of the coven. I’m sure once they do, Lizzie will be able to breathe easier.”
“All of us will. I’d be willing to bet, though, that whoever they haven’t rounded up yet is long gone.”
Her eyes drifted around the room and she realized she was looking for Lizzie, but she didn’t see her anywhere. Maybe Trina had already come to get her.
Mark got off the phone and they started to walk toward him when Cindy stopped suddenly, a shudder going through her entire body.
“What is it?” Jeremiah asked.
“The photographer taking the picture of the girls on the stairs,” Cindy said, realization dawning on her.
“Yeah?”
“He’s not supposed to be here. Geanie and Joseph didn’t hire
a photographer.”
“Mark! Where’s Lizzie?” Jeremiah asked, moving quickly toward the detective.
Mark frowned and glanced around the room before standing up. “She went to the bathroom a few minutes ago. She should have been back by now.”
“I think someone’s gotten to her,” Cindy said.
“What?”
Jeremiah didn’t have time to answer. He was already on his way back to the foyer. The photographer who had been there just a few minutes before was gone. Jeremiah ran outside, Cindy on his heels, where they found the carriage driver unhitching his horses. He had the first one completely freed and was holding it by the bridle it was still wearing.
“Sorry, animals are taking a break until the end of the evening,” the man said.
“Did you see a tall man come through here, possibly with a woman?” Jeremiah asked.
“Yeah. Two or three minutes ago. He seemed to be in quite a hurry. Of course, he had a very pretty young woman in his arms, carrying her real romantic.”
“Where did they go?”
“They headed for the parking lot.”
Jeremiah took three running steps and jumped on top of the horse. With an exclamation the man let go of the bridle as Jeremiah kicked the animal forward.
“It’s an emergency!” he heard Cindy shouting at the man.
The horse leaped forward and Jeremiah urged him down the hill. They raced down the path, the wind stinging his eyes. The moon sailed high overhead turning the road into a ribbon of light.
They pounded into the parking lot and Jeremiah saw a man ahead of him carrying a woman who was limp in his arms. Jeremiah raced up close then dismounted in one step as he brought the horse to a halt.
The man spun with an oath, dropped Lizzie on the ground, and then stepped to the side. From his waistband he yanked a wicked looking knife. It was very ornate and he guessed it was a ceremonial dagger that the man had taken to use for more than just rituals.
Jeremiah unsheathed his sword, thankful that Geanie had insisted that he wear a real weapon with his costume. The man lunged forward and Jeremiah easily parried and then stabbed him in the arm. The knife dropped from the man’s hands. He warred with himself for a moment. It was always safer to kill your enemies than to let them come back to haunt you another day. Before he could make that decision, though, he heard running footsteps.
“Looks like it was a good thing I was late to the party.”
Jeremiah turned and saw Liam standing there, dressed as a gangster complete with Tommy gun. He twisted the other way and saw Mark and Cindy running down the hill toward them. They arrived, breathless, a moment later.
“Evening folks, I’m Al Capone,” Liam said with a smirk.
“Is that gun real?” Mark asked, doing a bit of a double take.
“You know it is. Told you my grandfather was a collector.”
“You came as a gangster?”
“I always thought a good costume should be the opposite of who you are. Capone was a historical Italian mob boss. I’m a modern Irish cop. Doesn’t get much more opposite than that.”
“I’m bleeding here!” the man Jeremiah had stabbed said.
“Be grateful you’re just bleeding,” Mark said darkly as Cindy moved to check on Lizzie.
A car pulled into the parking lot and a minute later Trina got out, dressed like a witch. “Looks like I missed the party,” she said.
“Almost. You get to be here for the after party, though, and sometimes those are the best part,” Mark said.
Ultimately Trina still took Lizzie with her until they could be sure that they had gotten all the members of the coven, although it looked like with the capture of the last guy they had. Other officers came and carted the man Jeremiah had fought off to jail and Mark, Liam, Cindy and Jeremiah headed back to the party. Jeremiah and Cindy had actually ridden back up the hill on the horse and the way Cindy was looking at Jeremiah made Mark smile. It was the look of a woman in love.
Now that all the excitement was over Mark felt the need to collapse even more strongly. He headed for the ballroom. He wanted to tell Geanie and Joseph that he was heading home and thank them for everything. Inside he skirted the crowd as he looked for them, but he didn’t see them. Finally he stood still, debating how bad it would be to just take off and talk to them in a couple of days.
Behind him he heard several people start to wolf whistle. He wondered what woman was the object of so much overt admiration. The whistles grew to such a volume that he finally turned, curious as to what exactly was going on.
There, slinking toward him in the most low cut black dress he had ever seen was Traci. She was swaying her hips in a highly exaggerated way and walking right toward him. She had crimped her hair, put on siren red lipstick, and was wearing pearls. All those he noticed out of the corner of his eyes since he couldn’t take his eyes off the dress. Her new curves were there for all the world to see and as the crowd parted around her all the men were casting appreciative looks her way.
She stopped in front of him and before he could even blink she said in a sultry voice, “Hello, Dick. You can call me...Breathless.”
“Traci, I-”
She put a finger over his lips and made a shushing sound. “Dick, don’t you dare go and spoil my entrance. It seems to me what we need right now is a little more action and a lot less talk.”
He grabbed her hard and kissed her, molding her body to his. He could hear a few catcalls and whistles, but he just kept kissing her. When he finally let go both of them were breathless.
“Get a room!” he heard someone say humorously.
“I intend to,” Mark said. He grabbed her hand and pulled her through the crowd. They made it out of the ballroom and headed for the staircase.
“Dick, where are we going?” she asked, still using her vixen voice.
He turned to her and let his eyes sweep her body. “Morticia and Gomez have five thousand bedrooms in this house and we’re going to find one that’s vacant.”
“And then?” she asked, her breath catching a little bit.
He leaned in close and brushed his lips against her ear. “I hope you didn’t pay too much for the dress because I’m going to rip it off of you.”
He swept her up into his arms and carried her up the stairs, kissing her every step of the way.
.
Look for
THOU ART WITH ME
The next book in the Psalm 23 Mysteries series
Coming February 2015
Look for
THE BROTHERHOOD OF LIES
Book 2 in the Tex Ranvencroft Adventures
Coming Winter 2015
Look for
THE SUMMER OF RICE CANDY
Book 5 in the Sweet Seasons series
Coming Winter 2015
Debbie Viguié is the New York Times Bestselling author of more than three dozen novels including the Wicked series, the Crusade series and the Wolf Springs Chronicles series co-authored with Nancy Holder. Debbie also writes thrillers including The Psalm 23 Mysteries, the Kiss trilogy, and the Witch Hunt trilogy. When Debbie isn’t busy writing she enjoys spending time with her husband, Scott, visiting theme parks. They live in Florida with their cat, Schrödinger.
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