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DESPITE MY BEST EFFORTS to find out where we were headed, Agent Mayeux refused to divulge any information. I'd just about given up trying to get anything out of him when he pulled up in front of a set of wrought iron gates that were barely visible due to the green vines growing over them. He lowered his window, swept aside some foliage, and reached out to push a half-hidden buzzer. Wherever we were, he'd obviously been here before.
"Might I know where we are?" I tried again.
In answer, he held up a single finger and pressed the buzzer.
Within seconds, the sound of crackling filled the air. "Go away," a querulous voice intoned just before we heard a dial tone.
My eyebrows rose. Hardly a sterling example of southern hospitality.
Agent Mayeux pushed the button several more times before we heard the static sounds again. "Miss Prim and Proper is here," he announced before the disgruntled voice could order us to leave again.
"Well, why didn’t you just say so?" This time the annoyance was mixed with what sounded like a tinge of curiosity. “Who are you?”
"Her bodyguard." He shot me a quick wink. "Miss St. James' schedule is tight this afternoon, so if you'd like to see her, you'd best let us in."
Bodyguard? What was he up to?
The gates swung open with a loud groan. Agent Mayeux wasted no time entering the property. He drove along a winding drive with low-hanging Cyprus trees. I glanced sideways at his profile. He appeared completely at ease.
"Agent Mayeux, I'm going to have to insist that you tell me where we are. If you've just announced that I'm here, surely I should be filled in. What part should I play?"
"That's the beauty of it. You get to be yourself, as prim and proper as you like. My only advice is to stay calm, collected, courteous, and curious."
"Oh, is that all?" I looked out the window and gasped. As if by magic, a two-story white plantation style mansion had materialized from amidst the greenery. However, unlike the front gates, nothing about the house said “overgrown” or “un-manicured”. Quite the opposite. The building in front of me could easily have been featured on the cover of Southern Living Magazine. I turned back to my companion. "Why would I need a bodyguard?"
"Bodyguard slash boyfriend." Kase twisted in his seat to face me. "Okay, so here's what's going down. You're here in a professional capacity."
"As Miss Prim and Proper?"
"Exactly. The key is to keep the focus on you and off of me. It’ll compromise the investigation if anyone catches on that I'm a federal agent. Questions?"
A dozen, easily, but I'd start with the most pressing. "If no one in the Masters family knows who you are, how did you manage to wrangle an invitation to the wedding?"
His lips lifted in his trademark half-smile. "Technically, I haven't been invited."
That made about as much sense as Gertie's penchant for fishnet stockings. "But I saw the invitation at the diner. Was it a fake?"
"No, it was genuine all right. But it was your invitation, not mine."
"Mine?" I rubbed my temples. Conversations in Sinful were akin to riding a merry-go-round. "But I'd never heard of these people until an hour ago."
"Ah, but they've heard of you, and that's what ultimately matters. When I put out feelers saying that you'd covet an invitation to the wedding, the bride was ecstatic. Apparently, the idea of a society reporter from a big East Coast newspaper gave her quite the thrill."
"But I'm not a reporter, I'm a columnist," I protested. "I've never covered a society event."
"There’s a first time for everything." Before I could further object to the role I'd just been cast in, Agent Mayeux slipped out of the truck and came around to the passenger side door. He yanked it open and motioned for me to get out. "Let's roll."
I was tempted to flat out refuse, but why bother? I alighted and turned around to check my reflection in the window. Miss Prim and Proper needed to look put together. Disheveled was just not a good look on me. And then a question popped into my mind. I whirled back around. "Why would a society reporter need a bodyguard?"
I don't know if Agent Mayeux intended to answer that question or not because a series of explosions tore through the air. Before my mind fully registered what I was hearing, he flattened me against the cab of his truck, his body completely covering mine. "Don't move," he hissed in my ear.
He needn’t have worried. I was perfectly fine with him being my human shield.
Within seconds he managed to open the truck door and shove me inside. "Get down and stay down until I tell you to move," he barked as if it were the first day of Marine Corp basic training. He slammed the door shut and locked it before I could respond, not that I knew what to say under the circumstances. Being greeted by gunfire was another Sinful first, at least for me.
It wasn't more than a few moments before the door opened again and Agent Mayeux slipped his hand under my elbow to help me out. If there was a graceful way to remove myself from the floor of a pickup truck, I wasn't aware of it. But I did my best. Once I had both feet on the ground, I smoothed my hair back. "What was all that?"
“Fireworks.”
My eyebrows rose, but I didn’t ask further questions. “Do I look acceptable?”
Agent Mayeux stared down at me, an unreadable expression on his face. "You'll do," he said, his voice just above a whisper. "We've got company behind me. It’s show time."
I tried to peer over his shoulder, but of course I couldn't because he was far too massive. "Friend or foe?"
"They're drug dealers. Connect the dots," he whispered. "Are you ready?"
Ready to hop back in the truck and flee, yes. But my stubborn pride was out to get me today. I nodded.
We were shown into the sitting room by a butler who gave us a disapproving onceover that made me question his training. In contrast, his employer greeted me with what appeared to be genuine warmth, although it didn't extend to my companion. She ignored Kase as if he wasn't filling up and overflowing from the dainty damask covered chair he’d settled into.
Our hostess, Lenora Masters, was the absolute picture of a southern belle who had aged with dignity and style. She was several inches shorter than I, which put her at just over five feet tall. Her silver-white hair was pulled back in a sleek chignon, and tasteful pearl earrings adorned her ear lobes, complimenting the triple strand of pearls around her neck.
"My granddaughter Cassandra was over the moon when I told her that you'd graciously offered to feature her wedding in your newspaper's society column."
I shot an annoyed look at my companion. Offered, my eye teeth. I'd been roped into this like an innocent little calf at its first rodeo. I returned my attention to our hostess. "You should know, Mrs. Masters, that weddings are not usually something that I cover."
Our hostess smiled genially. "We’re honored to be your first then. This will be the most impressive wedding that Sinful has ever seen."
My mind scrambled for a response. I doubted that I should just come right out and ask, “So, which member of your dysfunctional family is running drugs?” Agent Mayeux should have given me something to work with, for heaven's sake. "I'd love to hear all the details."
"First things first." She held up a china teapot hand-painted with tiny yellow roses. “May I offer you a cup of tea, my dear?”
“Please.” I watched in silence as she filled two teacups, one for herself and one for me. I gave Agent Mayeux a pointed glance, hoping that she'd take the hint and offer him a refreshment, but she ignored him as if he weren’t in the room. How anyone could do so, I couldn’t imagine. He wasn’t the kind of person who was easy to ignore.
"I know Cassandra is ever so eager to share all of her plans for her special day with you, Miss St. James, so I'll let her do the honors."
"Call me Stephanie, please,” I said. “Is Cassandra here now?"
"No, she and her mother spent the day in New Orleans meeting with the florist." Lenora Masters shook her head ruefully. "The only person in this world I detest more than my step-son Donny's spineless first wife, Kitty, is the Colombian whore he's married to now. She's such a bitch."
It took everything I had to not spew my mouthful of hot tea all over at her choice of words. Instead, I simply stared, hoping that my expression didn't reflect my horror. Before my very eyes, sweet, genteel Lenora Masters had morphed into a foul-mouthed harpy. Who talked about their family like that? In front of strangers?
"Really, she is, you have my word," Lenora hastened to assure me, obviously mistaking my startled expression for disbelief. She leaned forward as if she were about to divulge an old family recipe for Lady Fingers. "Carmen has an eye-popping set of knockers, which explains how she convinced Donny to leave Kitty, but I refuse to believe they’re real.”
"I see," I managed to choke out, although the only thing I clearly saw was a woman who should be committed. Time to steer the conversation away from Carmen’s bustline. "Which other family members will be at the wedding?"
"The majority of our out of town guests are the groom's family. Devon comes from a very well-heeled old family from Virginia. He's a great catch, our Cassandra did a good job getting her claws into him."
Claws? I set my teacup down and took a deep breath.
“Are you all right, Stephanie?” Lenora furrowed her brow. “Has your tea grown cold?”
I shook my head. “Not at all.” I glanced over my shoulder but my “bodyguard” was busy looking out the window. Which left me alone in this verbal nightmare of a conversation. I desperately wished it were time to leave, but nothing about Agent Mayeux’s body language indicated we were going anywhere anytime soon. Curse him. "Does Cassandra have any siblings?"
Lenora's eyebrows rose. "If you count a worthless, good for nothing, lazy young man who refuses to get a real job, then yes she does. His name is Shawn."
"Shawn," I repeated as if I were trying to commit the name to memory. Truthfully, I just couldn't think of anything else to say. "Tell me about him."
"What's to tell? He smokes pot, wears too much leather, and is hanging around waiting for me to die so he can get ahold of my money." Her sigh was wistful. "Young men were so different in my day."
While Lenora paused to nibble on a scone, I glanced over my shoulder at Agent Mayeux in the hopes he would see that I needed rescuing. But he didn’t meet my eye. I followed his gaze but couldn’t see anything that would explain his rapt attention.
He stood up. "You ladies will pardon me if I step outside to have a smoke?" While his words were couched in the form of a question, he didn't wait for an answer.
As soon as the door closed behind him, Lenora's eyes narrowed. "I hope that man is not accompanying you to the wedding." She shuddered. "I would prefer to see you with someone far more refined."
I reached up to touch my strand of pearls. There was no way that I would attend the wedding without Kase by my side. Time for yet another change of subject. “Mrs. Masters, I believe you know my great-aunt. Like yourself, she’s a life-long Sinful resident.”
A delighted smile illuminated her face. “Really? What a lovely surprise. I’d love to meet her.” She set her saucer on the table and clasped her hands together. “Why, you must invite her to the wedding. What’s her name?”
“Ida Belle.”
“Ida Belle?” Lenora’s smile faded. “You’re related to that unholy bitch?”