Illusion of Luck 12

Cynthia and her mom were at the church getting dressed and putting on their makeup for the wedding when Beverly heard a beep. “What was that?”

“My cell phone. I got a text message. Could you hand it to me?”

“Sure.”

It was a message from Greg.

“r u sure u want 2 go thru with this?”

Cynthia typed in, “of course - hope ur not getting cold feet”

“not me - im worried about u. that ul be sorry”

“no way - ur the best thing that ever happened 2 me”

“but what about sex?”

“can’t wait”

“but i may not be as good as u think”

“don’t b silly - gotta get ready – c u soon”

“ok”

“What was that about?” said Beverly.

“Greg’s worried he’ll disappoint me in bed. But he won’t.”

“Of course not. Y’all are the perfect for each other.”

**********

The ceremony was going by so fast. Soon she would be his wife.

“I, Greg, take you, Cynthia…” From the moment she walked in his door he wanted nothing more than to hold her, to care for her, to make love to her, to never let her go. In the blink of an eye she had gone from stranger to the most important per­son in his life. At first, he wasn’t even sure it was love. He only knew that suddenly she was all he could think about.

He had loved other women, and had even been married before. But this was different. Looking at her, touching her, just being near this amazing woman did magical things to his body chemistry. Why couldn’t they have met sooner—before either of them got married the first time?

He looked deep into her glistening blue eyes, and thought, oh, Cynthia, do you realize you’re making my whole body buzz? He hoped he had said his vows correctly…and that he hadn’t said the word ‘buzz.’

“I, Cynthia, take you, Greg…” Oh, Greg, I love you so much, she thought. You still don’t even know how much I love you. You are so kind and caring. And I’ve never felt so loved. You think I’m too beautiful for you. But all I know is that I’ve never enjoyed being with any other man the way I love being with you. I’ve never respected and cared as much for any other man. And I’ve never felt my body heat up like this for any other man. Baby, you just turn me on like crazy!

She wondered if he was reading her mind.

**********

The uninvited guest went quietly up the stairs, two at a time. The .38 was hidden under the right pant leg in the ankle holster, ready when needed.

The balcony was empty. The perfect spot for a sniper. The groom could be taken out with one shot to the temple. The suppressor would muffle the shot enough to confuse the con­gregation for a few seconds while Larry escaped. Then, after a few months, Cynthia would be open to a new lover — the man she should have been marrying.

But Larry was not in the balcony.

Rebecca took a seat to watch the rest of the ceremony. Where was that slimy would-be novelist? She had driven like a maniac to get there in time. She desperately wanted to save Cynthia Blockerman from Larry the Loser. But what if Cynthia was the wrong redhead? She couldn’t be sure. The right redhead or her groom might already be on the floor of some church, bleeding all over the carpet.

No. Her gut told her this was the redhead. Perhaps Larry was waiting until the reception. Or the honeymoon. And did he plan to kill Cynthia or abduct her? It was difficult to tell from his latest chapter. But she would do everything in her power to stop the filthy creep.

And terminate him—with extreme prejudice.

**********

When Rebecca entered the Fellowship Hall of First Baptist Church, she tried to fit in. She hoped she wasn’t the only woman wearing pants. She would try to avoid talking to any­one.

There was a nice spread of finger sandwiches, nuts and mints, and the two wedding cakes. A young teenage girl was ladling out the fruit punch for the attendees who were already forming a line at the end of the first table.

A young boy, probably the brother, Rebecca thought, picked up one of the fancy glass cups. The sister tried to stop him, but he pulled away and guzzled the yellow liquid in two seconds. Then he put the cup back on the table and stuck his tongue out at her. She threatened him with the ladle, and then looked around to see if anyone had just witnessed her unlady­like beha­vior.

The boy started coughing and grabbed his throat. Then he fell on the floor. The sister started to panic.

Not poison, Rebecca thought. Larry would have no way of predicting who would be the first to drink it.

Then the little boy started laughing. The sister grabbed a tuna sandwich and threw it at him. The sandwich opened in flight and landed in two parts on his chest. He snatched it up, smear­ing it across the pocket of his white sports jacket, and shoved it all into his mouth at once and mumbled, “Thanks, Sis.” Then he started laughing again. Bits of bread and tuna spewed from his mouth.

A woman appeared out of nowhere and pulled the boy up by one ear. “What did I tell you?”

“Ow, ow, ow—that hurts, Mama.”

“I don’t believe we’ve met.”

Rebecca had been so caught up in the drama at the punch bowl that she hadn’t seen the Best Man walking up to her side. “Uh, no, I guess not.”

“Well, I’m Sandy. What’s your name?”

“Rebecca.” If he asked for her last name she would use one of her old standbys. She often had to lie when doing private investigations. It was just part of the job.

“I’m surprised nobody told me about you. I know most of Greg’s old friends. You must be a friend of Cynthia’s.”

“Actually I’m working security for the wedding. Keeping an eye on things. You never know—somebody might be out to get Greg and Cynthia.”

“To walk right into their wedding reception and shoot them.”

“Or poison the wedding cake.”

“Or go after them with a slingshot.”

They laughed.

Sandy slapped her across the shoulder. “I like you, Honey.”

“Good.” Rebecca punched him in the stomach. “But I’m not your honey. Look—I went to high school with Cynthia, but she won’t remember me. I saw in the paper that she was getting married, and I didn’t have anything better to do tonight, so—“

“—so you thought you’d crash the wedding—get some free food and booze.”

“Sure, why not. It seems like fun when they do it in the movies.”

“Well, if you were looking for alcohol I’m afraid you’ve come to the wrong place. These people don’t drink.” Sandy noticed she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. “I’d be happy to be your date for tonight—so you won’t feel funny standing around all by yourself.”

“Okay. Sure. As long as you don’t touch me. ‘Cause if you do, then be prepared to lose whatever you touch me with.”

“No problem. I’ll get us some punch.” As Sandy walked away, he imagined the stocky, but sexy woman ripping off his lips…or his hands…or his… He couldn’t understand why he was so attracted to her. Not that she wasn’t pretty. But she was defi­nitely rough around the edges. She might even be dangerous.

Maybe that was the attraction.

**********

Larry walked out of the convenience store, lit his pipe and stood there puffing on it as he watched the cars go by. He had not played the Texas Lottery in a long time. He knew he could win any time he wanted. But that wouldn’t fair to everyone else. So, he used his powers of luck sparingly.

But now that his funds were dwindling, he figured it was his turn to win again. By correctly selecting all six numbers, he could walk away with as much as $45 million. Then he wouldn’t need to play again for a few years. But he didn’t plan to sit nerv­ously in front of the TV at 10:12 PM to witness the drawing. He knew he would win.

Money had never been an issue for Lucky Larry. Let every­one else work at a crummy job for low pay. All he needed was his luck.

And now his luck in publishing was finally turning around. He knew it would happen. Two agents and a small publisher had already contacted him about his new book, Illusion of Luck. It would be a New York Times Best Seller—he could just feel it.

They would need a good portrait for the back cover. He would go to an expensive hairdresser for a precise trim of his beard and shaggy hair. In his picture he would, no doubt, appear to be in deep thought, holding his beloved pipe to his lips.

He got into his Jaguar and drove away. He laughed when he pictured the pastor of First Baptist Church, Coreyville looking for Johnny Jones at the wedding reception. What a doofus, he thought.

Larry had not attended the wedding. He had never planned to. But he would attend the honeymoon.