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The shadow moved again, but it was not a bird or a squirrel. The shadow was human.
“Yoohoo, it’s the wedding planner here!” she called out, her voice snatched away by the open expanse of the property. “Anyone around?”
Silence, except for a breeze rustling the oaks and pines.
Impatiently, she tripped down the stone steps, climbed into her vehicle, and inserted the key into the Nissan’s ignition, bringing the engine back to life.
That shadowy figure moved closer to the circular drive when she put the car into gear to drive around to the back.
It was a man in a black suit, crisp white shirt, and tie, watching her from inside the forest, a shadow of darkness against the thicket of trees. A pair of binoculars dangled from his hands.
Caitey’s heart jumped into her throat, a gasp of fear freezing her into place. But the man stayed in the shadows, not coming forward to greet her.
He must be a groundskeeper—but since when did gardeners wear three-thousand-dollar Armani suits?
CHAPTER 2
CAITEY
Caitey rolled down her side window. “Is anybody there?” she called again, but her voice was now hoarse and timid.
Wait a minute! The man in the Armani suit wasn’t there any longer. He was . . . gone, just like that.
Had she dreamed him up? Or had he disappeared because he was an apparition?
She blew out a long, shaky breath. Was she losing her mind? Stress-induced apparitions reminiscent of all the past spooky books and movies she’d enjoyed over the years?
Caitey had to admit that she was easily influenced. Hiding under the bed covers and reading mysteries was her favorite thing, but afterward, she had to sleep with the light on!
Her mother would find her huddled underneath theblankets and then throw them off to make a game out of seeing her there—as if she was still four years old and they were playing hide-and-seek.
“Whew, Caitey,” she would exclaim as if she’d been searching for hours. “It’s a good thing I found you. Otherwise, this nice cup of hot cocoa would go to waste.” Then she’d give her a wink. “Or I’d have to drink it myself.”
A smile crept over her lips, remembering those nights so long ago when Dad was traveling out of town for his government work.
“Oh, look,” Mom would suddenly announce, “I have a cocoa for you, and a second cup for me!”
Then she’d perch on the edge of the bed while they drank their cocoa like proper ladies, sticking their pinky finger out and speaking in a British accent while they discussed books or movies for hours.
Whenever she had a stressful wedding, Caitey desperately wished her mother was here helping her. Mom was Mrs. Organizer Specialist herself. Her personality and talent came in handy when the embassy in Portugal—where her parents had been living the past five years—had to plan a dinner, a gala, or special meetings with heads of state.
“I desperately need to hire an assistant,” Caitey muttered, glancing in her rearview mirror as she drove around the circular drive to the mansion’s rear.
Laughter gurgled in her throat. Like she could afford an assistant—not. But her parents would arrive tomorrow, flying in from Lisbon toattend Jenna’s wedding.
She couldn’t wait to see them—and have an extra pair of hands! She knew Dad would spend all his time with his brother-in-law, Uncle Alexander Thornton, Jenna’s father.
Caitey peered through the windshield as she turned the corner. The house was just as beautiful here as the magnificent front entrance.
There were more flower gardens, towering trees, and what looked like an orchard far beyond the manicured lawns and stone pathways.
Plumes of water sprayed from a fountain, sparkling in the sunlight. It was breathtaking and a perfect location for her cousin’s special day.
Despite being early November, the sun shone, and the reception would be lovely in this idyllic setting after the indoor ceremony.
Unless Jenna changed her mind.
Brides did that. A lot. They changed their minds about nearly everything.
