early from the reception tomorrow evening.
But now Octavia, fueled by the martinis, was starting to get dangerous.
Octavia leaned back in her chair and squinted a little to get a better look at Davis, who was seated on the other side of Celinda. At the moment Davis was deep in conversation with Celinda’s brother, Walker. They were talking about the rain forest expedition team that Walker planned to join next month.
Octavia chuckled. “Your Davis reminds me of a hunter I knew when I was your age.” She fanned herself theatrically with a napkin. “Talk about hot. Ooh-hah. I’ll never forget that night we went down into the catacombs, just the two of us, with a sleeping bag. He worked a little ghost light, and I’m telling you, talk about setting fire to the sheets.” She paused reflectively. “Actually, he did set fire to the sleeping bag. It was an accident, of course. The ghost he pulled got a little too close and—”
“Aunt Octavia, please,” Celinda interrupted, a little desperate. “I told you, Davis is not a ghost hunter. He’s in the security business.”
“Don’t care what line he’s in, I’m sure that man must be some kind of hunter.” Octavia peered at Davis again. “Not the usual type, though. Whatever he is, he’s strong. Yes, indeedy, I can feel some real psi energy there.”
The problem was that Octavia probably did sense Davis’s energy. It was no secret in the family that Celinda had inherited at least certain elements of her particular psi talents from her.
The difference between them was that, although Octavia could sense energy in others, she could not read the waves and patterns the way Celinda could. She would never have been able to distinguish between the clean, strong currents that came from Davis and the twisted, scary patterns given off by a man like Benson Landry. She did, however, recognize raw power when she picked up the vibes.
“I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t mention your theory to anyone else, Aunt Octavia,” Celinda said in a very low voice. What was it Davis had said? Something about sticking to the truth as much as possible. “Davis is nonstandard. Like you and me. He tries to downplay his talent. You know how it is; if it got out that he’s a little different, it could hurt his business.”
“Of course.” Octavia assumed a sage air and took another swallow of her martini. “Perfectly understandable. Mum’s the word.”
“Thanks.” Celinda picked up her wineglass and took a healthy swallow. It was going to be a very long night.
At the far end of the table, her father, Newell, and the groom’s father, Anthony Santana, rose to toast the bridal pair.
Newell Ingram was of medium height, wiry and compact. His green eyes were lit with intelligence and good humor. He picked up a spoon and gave Celinda’s mother a private smile. It was the sort of smile that only two people who have known each other for a very long time could exchange.
Gloria Ingram reached out and briefly touched his hand. Celinda looked at her lovely, vivacious mother and thought how radiant she was tonight.
Newell used the spoon to strike a water glass lightly. The room fell silent.
He smiled proudly at Rachel and launched into a small, fatherly speech that had every woman in the room reaching for tissues.
“Ever since you were born, I’ve known this day would come,” he said quietly, as though speaking to her alone. “I used to lie awake at nights worrying about it, dreading it. And yet, more than anything else in the world, I wanted you to find the kind of happiness that your mother and I have known.”
Celinda looked at her sister through a film of happy tears. Rachel was glowing. Her pale blonde hair was cut in a graceful curve, framing her delicate features and beautiful eyes. Tomorrow in her wedding dress she was going to look like a princess out of a fairy tale, Celinda thought.
Beside her, Josh Santana, dark-haired and dark-eyed, held her hand. He looked handsome and so very proud.
Celinda smiled a little to herself. A perfect match.
“…And so, Josh, I welcome you into our family,” Newell concluded. “I know that you will make my little girl very happy. That is all I ask.”
Everyone rose to drink the toast. A cheer went up.
Davis leaned in close to Celinda. “Nice family.”
“Yes, I know.” She dabbed at her eye with her pink napkin. “I’ve been so worried that moving away from Frequency might not have been enough—” She broke off abruptly, not wanting to spoil the moment.
“You were afraid that moving away might not have been enough to protect them from Landry?”
She nodded wordlessly.
Everyone sat down again. Mr. Santana launched into his toast.
“Joshua, I also knew this day was coming from the moment of your birth. Your mother and I worried about it more than you will ever know. But when you introduced us to your beautiful Rachel, we knew that we could relax and rejoice. You have chosen well, my son.”
Celinda and the other women seized more tissues.
At the end of his father’s speech, Josh surprised everyone by rising to his feet and picking up his glass. He smiled straight at Celinda.
“There is one more toast to be made tonight. Celinda, Rachel and I want to thank you from the bottom of our hearts for giving us the gift of a perfect match. We like to think that fate would have brought us together somehow, some way. But the truth is, this is a big city. We might never have found each other if it hadn’t been for your matchmaking talents. Tomorrow we will enter into a Covenant Marriage knowing that we have made the best decision of our lives. We will always be grateful to you.”
Everyone leaped to their feet again. A round of applause went up.
Celinda could hardly see her sister’s smiling face through her tears. She grabbed another tissue.
THE DINNER ENDED A LONG TIME LATER, THE GUESTS drifting away into the hotel bar or upstairs to their rooms. Davis put an arm around Celinda’s waist and guided her toward the door. He could feel the tension that tightened her whole body. She had done a great job of acting during the dinner, even managing to look as if she were enjoying herself. But he could tell that the whole wedding scene was an ordeal for her instead of the happy celebration it should have been. All because of a bastard named Benson Landry.
“Had an interesting conversation with your brother,” he said in an effort to ease her fragile mood. “He’s sure excited about joining one of the jungle teams.”
Before she could respond, Newell and Gloria Ingram stepped directly into their path. Both were smiling, but he could see the implacable determination in their eyes.
“I warned you this wasn’t going to be simple,” Celinda whispered. “Prepare to be grilled.”
“Take it easy,” he said softly. “Just follow my lead.”
“Sorry we haven’t had a chance to chat, Davis,” Gloria said warmly. “Things have been so busy. We’re delighted that you’re here, though. So nice to know that Celinda is making new friends in Cadence.”
“Have a nightcap with us in the bar?” Newell said in a tone that left no room for refusal.
Celinda looked more uneasy than ever. Panicky would not have been too strong a word, Davis thought.
“It’s late,” she said on a tone of false regret. “Big day tomorrow.”
Davis smiled at Newell and Gloria. “Sounds like an excellent idea.”
They took a booth at the back of the dimly lit bar. When the small glasses containing the after-dinner drinks had been served, Gloria looked directly at Davis.
“How did the two of you meet?”
“Luck,” he said. “I was investigating a case involving a stolen artifact. The trail led straight to Celinda’s office.”
Celinda’s fingers froze around her glass.
Newell narrowed his eyes. “You thought Celinda was a suspect?”
“No,” Davis said calmly. “The missing artifact wound up in an antique shop. Celinda happened to purchase it. She didn’t know it was stolen, of course. I offered to buy it back from her and return it to my client. We made a deal.” He paused to smile at Celinda. “The next thing I knew, I was asking her out to dinner. One thing led to another, and here we are.”
Newell seemed satisfied with that. “Just one of those chance meetings, then.”
