Rose Quartz (17 page)

Her heels clicked on the stairs as she trotted up them. Maureen’s bedroom door opened just as she reached it. “Hurry up, sugar, or you’ll miss Sabina’s solo,” Bella wheezed, out of breath from running up the stairs.

Maureen’s face lit up. “Sabina is going to sing?”

“That’s right, sugar,” Bella said, hurrying Maureen downstairs and outside.

Stopping at the tent entrance, they heard a chord plucked on the harp followed a moment later by Sabina’s golden voice. She and Maureen stared at each other open-mouthed. The power of Sabina’s voice filled the tent. Goose bumps popped out on Bella’s skin. She rubbed her arms. She’d never heard a voice like that before. It was like God had sent his favorite angel to grace the wedding with a celestial song.

When the last crystalline note hovered on the air then dissipated no one moved or spoke. Not so much as a rustle of material broke the silence. Then everyone let out a collective sigh.

The harpist began to pluck the prelude to the “Wedding March”.

Bella fussed over the bride’s dress and hair, her nervous fingers smoothing and combing.

“I’m fine, Bella.” Maureen stepped out of arm’s reach.

“Yes, you are, sugar,” Bella agreed, smiling as she studied her friend. “You are absolutely radiant. The most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.” She leaned closer and whispered, “Have you seen the ring yet?” Jack had been very secretive about Maureen’s wedding ring.

Maureen shook her head. “I don’t know what all the mystery is about,” she grumbled.

“We’ll soon find out. I’ll see you at the altar.”

Holding her flowers, her hands positioned at her waist, Bella stepped into the tent and began the journey down the aisle. When she reached the altar Bella stepped to the left and watched Maureen approach. She looked at Jack as his bride came to a stop beside him. If his smile had been any broader it would have split his face.

“Dearly beloved,” the middle-aged minister began, his glasses slipping down on his nose. With an absent gesture, he pushed them back up. He held a worn leather-bound book in his hand but didn’t bother to glance at it.

He must know the words by heart
. As the couple exchanged their vows, Bella’s gaze swept the guests. Nothing seemed out of place.

“With this ring,” Jack repeated after the minister.

The words caught Bella’s attention. She turned from scanning the guests and stretched to see the wedding band then nearly gasped with pleasure. Bless Jack. He’d had a tiny circlet of amethysts inlaid into the golden wedding band to match the center of Maureen’s amulet. How creative. But then he was an author. He was a good man and would make a good husband for her friend.

The voices droned on with Bella feeling more than hearing the words until she heard, “I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

She felt her lips tip up nearly to her ears. Looking over, she saw Hank’s eyes suspiciously bright. The tough guy was a marshmallow when it came to Maureen. She was the daughter he’d never had.

He looked over, caught her glance and smiled. The heat of it warmed her like a crackling fire on a cold winter’s night, enfolding her. The wedding party and guests receded into a misty haze.

“It is my pleasure to present Jack and Maureen Wolfe,” the minister boomed.

The moment popped like a cork and Bella was once more part of the wedding party, listening to Maureen’s dress rustle as she turned to greet her guests.

A cheer erupted.

Beaming, the couple walked down the aisle to the swell of the harp.

Maureen and Jack stopped in the back of the tent to accept the well-wishes of their friends and allow the caterers to set up the tables and the attendants the dance floor.

By the time everyone had gone through the receiving line, the floor was down, the DJ set up and the tables ready.

The DJ started the music and called the happy couple to the front of the tent for their first dance as man and wife. They stared into each other’s eyes and swayed to a soft bluesy music, their face alight with happiness as they circled the floor.

The dance ended. A lively tune came over the speakers and couples moved on the dance floor and began to gyrate. Hank looked down at her. “How are you at shagging?”

“You’re asking a Southerner?” She looked at him in disbelief. “Shug, we invented it.”

His hand slipped from her waist to her hand. “Just try to keep up,” he yelled above the music that had raised several decibels, along with the buzz from the guests who had wasted no time in making their way to the free bar set up in the back of the tent.

Glancing around, Bella saw Adam and relaxed. His arms crossed, he stood by the door of the tent his gaze sweeping the crowd like a centurion on duty.

Hank tugged at her hand. She took off her pillbox hat and sent it sailing across the room to land on a nearby table. The violet hat sat like a centerpiece on top of the white-linen tablecloth.

She shook out her blonde hair that fell just short of her shoulders. “Let’s see who keeps up with whom.” It was the last thing she said. From that point on she had to focus all her attention on following his lead as he took her other hand and pulled her through the classic maneuvers.

They did a simple six-count forward, backward motion then she did a rock step and he did a kick ball. From there they did the Round House, Boogie Walk and Roll Out. As the music stopped, they collapsed into each other’s arms. Applause broke out.

Startled, Bella looked around her. It appeared they’d cleared the floor. Even Maureen and Jack stood on the sidelines, Maureen giving them a thumbs-up.

“Let’s go get a drink and give everyone else a chance to dance,” Hank shouted in her ear.

“Good idea,” she yelled back, patting her hot cheeks with her fingertips.

As they made their way to the bar, he leaned his elbow on it and looked down at her. “What do you want?”

“What are you having?”

“It may not go with the tux but I’m having a beer.”

“I’ll have the same.”

A slow smile spread across his face. He held up two fingers to the bartender. “Beer in a bottle.”

The bartender removed the caps then handed them two longnecks.

Tipping her head back, Bella took a deep swallow, enjoying the cold yeasty-tasting beverage running down the back of her throat. She held the icy bottle against her hot forehead and glanced around. A frisson of fear sliced her spine. Where were Maureen and Jack? Scanning the tent, she saw them heading outside. “I’ll be back,” she said and started after them.

Hank picked up his beer from the bar and with his other hand clasped her arm. “Wherever you go I go.”

She nodded glad of his company and kept walking, winding her way through the tables and guests. Looking up, she saw Adam Morelly standing discreetly in the doorway, gazing outside. His head swung back in Bella’s direction. So he was keeping an eye on her too. She wished he’d focus on Maureen. She had a strong unshakeable dread that if Victor couldn’t get her amulet he’d make a try for Maureen and use her as a bargaining chip. It’s what she would do if she were him.

Reaching the door, she acknowledged Adam with a nod. Intent on getting Maureen in her sights, she headed outside. Adam laid a detaining hand on her arm and tipped his head in the direction Maureen and Jack had just gone. She stopped. A slow smile spread across her features and she stepped back beside Adam.

Hank glanced over her shoulder. The newlyweds were exchanging a kiss in the moonlight. A bottle of champagne was tucked under Jack’s arm. He drew back, pulled two flute glasses out of his pocket, popped the top and poured them each a glass of bubbly. They toasted each other. Jack put one arm around Maureen. Flute glasses in hand, they slow-danced under the full moon.

“Do we have to do this?” Hank grumbled. “I feel like a voyeur.”

Jack glanced up and saw the three of them staring at him and Maureen.

Bella hurried forward, improvising. “It’s time to go through the buffet line.”

Glasses in hand, arms around each other, Maureen and Jack joined their friends and started the procession to the buffet line where delicious scents filled the back of the tent every time a silver cover was lifted.

The evening passed quickly. Maureen pulled Bella aside. “We are going to be taking off in a few minutes.”

“Are you still planning on spending the night in Milwaukee at the Express Dome?” Bella asked, sliding her throbbing feet back in her shoes.

Maureen nodded.

“And your flight to Hawaii leaves at seven a.m.?” Bella confirmed.

“Yes.”

“And you’ve already packed?”

“Yes, Mama,” Maureen grinned.

“Your bags are in the car?”

“Yes.” Maureen rolled her eyes.

“All right, all right.” Bella knew she was acting like a hen with one chick and a pretty chick at that. They’d made it through the wedding and the reception all in one piece. So why did her stomach still have a knot in it the size of an oversized pretzel? Grabbing Maureen’s arm, she leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Let us drive you to Milwaukee.”

Maureen heaved an exasperated sigh. “For god’s sake, Bella, it’s our honeymoon.”

Bella dropped her hands and dry-washed them.

Maureen looked at Bella’s hands. “Please don’t worry.”

A woman with a head of dull gray hair bumped against Bella, her coarse brown suit rough against Bella’s skin. The woman reached toward Bella to steady them both. The jostle loosened the amulet and it went sliding down her arm. Automatically, Bella’s hand reached up to cradle it. She pushed it back up and squeezed it tighter. At the same time, Hank threw a protective arm around her. His hand clasped hers over the amulet.

“Sorry,” the woman muttered. Head down, she walked outside, lurching a bit. Probably too much to drink, Bella thought. She paid her little mind, her attention focused on Maureen. People had been bumping against her all night.

“Come outside, I’m getting ready to throw the bouquet.” Maureen motioned for the other women still in the tent. Laughing and talking, they surged forward.

Maureen looked at the group of women, turned her back and sent her bouquet of white roses, lilies and purple violets sailing over her head.

Instinctively, Bella reached out a hand to keep the floral missile from hitting her in the face.

Turning, Maureen winked at Bella who stood clutching the flowers, then grabbed Jack’s arm and ran for the car.

Waving the bouquet, Bella ran after them, yelling, “Aren’t you going to change clothes?”

“I’ll change in the SUV,” Maureen called over her shoulder.

“I hope they make it to the motel,” Bella mumbled to herself. You’d think it had weeks since they’d had sex instead of… Well, that was really none of her business. She and Hank watched the newlyweds until Jack pulled out of the lane and drove out of sight. They waited several minutes to make sure no one followed the SUV.

She should feel better. Why didn’t she?

“Want to dance?” Hank’s voice broke in on her thoughts.

Looking up, she smiled, trying to ignore the unease crawling up her spine. “Sure, why not?”

On the way into the tent she saw Sabina chatting with the DJ and a very inebriated young woman flirting with Adam for all she was worth. Both Adam’s and Sabina’s gazes continually swept the tent. She should have felt reassured that they were looking out for her but she didn’t.

As they took the floor, Hank swept her into his arms as a slow dance played. But even the heat of his solid body against hers, couldn’t overcome the cold feeling of dread that permeated her bones and pricked at her. She’d missed something. Something important.

Hank’s fingers skimmed her back. “A penny for them.”

She looked up and blinked her mind a thousand miles away.

“Your thoughts.” He smiled down at her.

“I’d give them to you if I could wrap myself around them.” She frowned, trying to grasp whatever was floating at the edge of her consciousness.

A couple jostled against them. She moved her hand and clasped her amulet. The man apologized and the couple danced in a different direction. She glanced at her arm. Secured, the amulet hadn’t moved, hadn’t slipped.

A thought flashed and held. She stopped dancing. Her heart began to thud hard against her chest. Another couple bumped into them but other than reflexively clasping the amulet she paid them no mind.

“Bella, what’s wrong?” Hank looked down at her, his arm tightening around her. But it wasn’t Hank she was seeing it was the older woman dressed in drab brown hurrying away. A woman hunched with age, graying skin but hands with no age spots. Her hands had been young and firm with a strong grasp…and chewed-down fingernails.

Like a slideshow, profiles flashed in her mind—the gray-haired woman, the blonde in the mall parking lot and the last clip—the Goth on the flight from Italy with ragged nails. They were all the same woman. The profile though well hidden had been the same.

She slapped her forehead. “I am such a fool. How could I have thought for a minute that woman jostling me was an accident?” Her face must have registered her dismay because she saw Sabina making her way toward her, her expression single-minded.