Page 12 of Stilettos & Secrets on the 7 Seas

“Crap on a Keebler!” I rubbed at the twitch in my left eye. “I’m screwed. Caiyan is coming to the wedding.”

“Isn’t that what you want?” Gertie sped up, trying to make the yellow light, then reconsidered and braked hard enough to rattle my teeth. She looked over at me. “Don’t you want him to get wedding fever?”

“Wedding fever?” Now I sounded like the gypsy parrot.

“Yeah, all those lovey-dovey feelings that fill the air at weddings, little dandelion seeds of love floating and landing on Caiyan. Hopefully, encouraging a proposal.”

“He won’t be able to propose because Jake’s also coming. When he sees Caiyan, he’s going to arrest him.”

“Heavens to Cousin Betsy, that is a problem.” The light turned green, and Gertie pressed on the gas. “Maybe we can keep them apart.”

“The seating arrangements have been made for weeks. My mom’s been helping Aint Loretta with it. You know she put Jake at our table.” My voice skipped up an octave.

Gertie gave me a stay calm sideways glance. “You find Jake’s card and swap it with a guest at another table when we arrive. I’ll distract your ma.”

“Don’t you think Jake’s going to see Caiyan sitting next to me in the church? Or maybe filling his plate in the buffet line?” I hugged Gertie’s Consuela to my chest and huffed. “Jake’s going to make a scene.”

“We’ll keep them apart. And if they do meet up, Jake’s a Southern boy. He won’t make a scene at the wedding. It’d get back to his momma. He’ll wait until after they cut the cake, then clamp the cuffs on Caiyan.”

“Cuffs?” Surely Jake wouldn’t have a pair handy. How would he even capture Caiyan?

Gertie hit a pothole. The car jolted, and the glove compartment flipped open. The gun bounced into my lap.

Of course. Jake carried concealed.

“Sorry. My car needs a new pair of shocks. I wouldn’t have to rush if we’d been on time.” She sent me a scowl. “After the bride and groom say their vows, you can tell Caiyan to get the hell outta Dodge.”

Gertie caught the next red light. I stuffed the gun back into the glove compartment. Shoved her Consuela bag onto the floorboard.

“It might work.” I didn’t sound very optimistic about our plan, but what choice did I have?

“Of course, it’ll work. There’s no grass growing up here.” She tapped her temple. The light turned green. Gertie put the pedal to the floor and hauled ass toward Mount Vernon.

An hour and a half later, we exited the highway. We took the corner at the light by the gas station, passed a Dairy Queen and what I thought used to be a Long John Silver’s seafood restaurant, but the sign had a new pirate on it who looked an awful lot like Marco.

“Gertie, did you see the sign on that Long John Silvers?”

“What about it?” Gertie craned her neck to see the sign.

“It looks like Marco.”

“Huh, I guess it does look a little like him.” She bumped the curb and turned her attention back toward the road. “I never noticed that before.”

“It used to be an old pirate with a red beard, wooden leg, and a parrot.”

“No, it’s always been the picture of Long John Silver. The notorious pirate who found the lost Spanish treasure.”

“No. Long John Silver is a fictional character from the bookTreasure Island.” I’d seen the movie.

“Uhm, Jen. Have you been drinking?” She sent me a long, checking-my-temperature look. “Long John Silver was a real pirate. You’re thinking of Captain Hook.”

I stared at her. I knew when things changed in the past that, sometimes, travelers fell into a time loop and remembered facts from the original timeline before the past changed the present. A part of me had a gut feeling something was wrong. Very wrong.

She pulled to the shoulder and put the car in park. “Is this one of them things that changed in the past and now we think it’s the real thing?”

I nodded, pausing a minute to calm the hysterics that threatened. “Gert, Marco stayed in the past. He could be Long John Silver.”

She sucked in air, then regained her composure. “Good choice. Silver’s always been a favorite.”

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