Shadow Dance (2 page)

T
HE CEREMONY WAS BEAUTIFUL
. T
EARS ROLLED DOWN
J
ORDAN
’
S
cheeks when her brother and her best friend exchanged vows. She thought no one had noticed her red eyes, but when she took hold of Noah’s arm while walking out of the church, he leaned down to her and whispered, “Crybaby.”

Of course he’d noticed. He never missed anything.

After additional photos were taken, the attendants were separated, and Jordan ended up riding to the reception with the bride and groom. She could have been riding on the hood of the car, for all they noticed. They only had eyes for each other.

Kate and Dylan had entered the country club ahead of everyone else, and Jordan stood outside on the steps waiting for the rest of the wedding party to come up the circle drive to join her.

It was a beautiful evening, but there was a slight chill in the air, which was unusual for this time of year in South Carolina. The ballroom’s French doors were opened to the side terrace. Tables had already been prepared with long white linen tablecloths topped with candles and centerpieces of roses and hydrangeas. Jordan knew the reception was going to be fabulous, the food exceptional—she’d gotten to taste some of Kate’s selections—and the band superb. Jordan didn’t plan on doing much dancing, though. It had been a long day, and she was running out of steam. A cool breeze swept across the veranda and made her shiver. She rubbed her bare arms to ward off the chill. She loved the pale pink strapless gown she was wearing, but it definitely wasn’t designed to keep a body warm.

The cold wasn’t the only thing bothering her. Her contact lenses were driving her crazy. Fortunately, she’d tucked her glasses into Noah’s tuxedo jacket along with her lens case and lipstick. Too bad she hadn’t thought to shove a cardigan in there.

She heard laughter and turned just in time to see Kate’s younger sister, Isabel, take hold of Noah’s arm and lean into his side. Oh, brother, here we go.

Isabel was a blond, blue-eyed beauty, but then so was Noah. Isabel’s coloring was quite similar to his, and though he towered over her, they could have been related. Now that’s a creepy thought, Jordan decided, since Isabel was blatantly flirting with him. She was such an innocent. Noah wasn’t. Kate’s sister was a very young nineteen, and from the way she was staring up at Noah with such adoration in her eyes, it was apparent she was already under his spell. To his credit, Noah wasn’t encouraging her. In fact, he wasn’t paying much attention to her at all. Instead, he was intently listening to Zachary, the youngest Buchanan.

“Gotcha.”

Jordan hadn’t heard anyone approaching and flinched in reaction. Her brother Michael poked her in her side and was now standing beside her grinning like an idiot. When he was a child, he loved to sneak up on her and their sister, Sidney, and scare the be-jesus out of them. He had lived for a good scream back then. She thought he’d outgrown the horrid behavior, but apparently he sometimes regressed when he was around her. Come to think of it, all of her older brothers regressed when they were around her.

“What are you doing out here?” Michael asked.

“Waiting.”

“That much is obvious. Who or what are you waiting for?”

“The other bridesmaids, but mostly Isabel. I’m supposed to keep her away from Noah.”

Michael turned and took in the scene at the bottom of the steps. Isabel was practically glued to Noah. He grinned. “How’s that working out?”

“So far so good.”

He laughed while watching Isabel. She’d finally managed to get Noah’s full attention. Her face was flushed.

“What we have here is a three-way,” Michael surmised.

“Excuse me?”

“Look at them,” he said. “Isabel’s all starry-eyed over Noah; Zachary’s all starry-eyed over Isabel; and from the scary look on that woman over there watching Noah like a cougar waiting for dinner, I’d have to say she’s a mite more than starry-eyed.” Michael shrugged as he added, “Actually it’s a four-way.”

“This is not a three-way, a four-way, or a ten-way,” Jordan argued.

“I believe ten-ways would be called orgies. Ever heard of those?”

She was not about to let him bait her. Zachary had her full attention now. He was doing his best to get Isabel to notice him. Jordan wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d started doing backflips.

“That’s just sad,” Jordan said, shaking her head.

“Zack?”

She nodded.

“I can’t blame him,” Michael said. “Isabel’s got the whole package. The body, the face…without a doubt, she is—”

“Nineteen, Michael. She’s nineteen.”

“Yeah, I know. She’s too young for Noah and me, and she thinks she’s too old for Zachary.”

A car carrying their parents pulled up to the entrance to the club. Jordan noticed that a bodyguard made sure he was directly behind the judge as they made their way toward the stairs. Another bodyguard rushed up the stairs ahead of him.

Michael nudged Jordan and said, “You don’t need to be worrying about the bodyguards.”

“You aren’t worried?”

“Maybe a little. The thing is, the trial’s gone on for so long now, I’ve gotten used to our father with his shadows. It will all be over in a couple of weeks after the sentencing.” He nudged her again. “Put all that out of your mind tonight, okay?”

“Yes, okay,” she promised, even as she wondered how she was going to do it.

“You should start celebrating,” he said when she continued to look worried. “You’re footloose and fancy-free now that you’ve sold your company and made all us stockholders rich. You can do anything in the world you want.”

“What if I don’t know what I want?”

“You’ll figure it out in time,” he said. “You’ll probably stay in computers, don’t you think?”

Jordan didn’t know what she would do. She supposed she would be wasting her degrees if she didn’t continue working with computers in some capacity. She was one of a very few women to excel in computer innovation. She had started out with a large corporation, but she’d ended up forming her own company, and with her family’s investment, she’d turned it into a huge success. She had spent the last several years working nonstop. However, when another company offered to buy her out at a phenomenal price, she didn’t hesitate to sell. She was restless and ready for a change.

She shrugged. “Maybe I’ll do some consulting work,” she said.

“I know you’ve had a lot of offers,” Michael said, “but take some time, Jordan, before you jump into something else. Kick back and relax. Have some fun.”

Tonight was about Dylan and Kate, she reminded herself. She could worry about her future tomorrow.

Noah was taking forever to walk up the stairs. He kept getting waylaid by family and friends.

“Why don’t you go inside?” Michael urged. “And stop worrying about Noah. He knows how young Isabel is. He’s not going to do anything inappropriate.”

Michael was right about Noah, but Jordan couldn’t say the same for Isabel.

“Go and get her, will you? Bring her inside.”

She didn’t have to ask twice. Her brother was halfway across the veranda before the doorman had opened the door for her.

Jordan didn’t have to be a watchdog after all. Noah was a perfect gentleman, just as Michael had predicted he would be. However, there were several rather persistent young women who couldn’t keep their hands off him, and he certainly didn’t seem to mind the attention. Since they were all over the age of twenty-one, Jordan figured they knew what they were doing.

Noah’s virtuous behavior freed her from her responsibilities, and she actually began to enjoy herself. By nine o’clock she had had it with her contacts though. She found Noah, who still had her glasses and her lens case in his jacket pocket. He was on the dance floor with a platinum blonde swaying to the slow music. Jordan interrupted long enough to get her lens case and then headed for the ladies’ room.

There was a commotion in the foyer. The strangest-looking man was arguing with the country club’s security detail. They in turn were strongly urging him to leave, but he was having none of it. One of the federal agents had already patted him down to make certain he wasn’t carrying a weapon.

“It’s unheard of to treat a guest the way I’m being treated,” he blustered. “I’m telling you Miss Isabel MacKenna will be happy to see me. I’ve misplaced my invitation, that’s all, but I assure you I was invited.”

He spotted Jordan walking toward him and gave her a bright smile. One of his front teeth crossed over the other and protruded just enough to make his upper lip catch whenever he spoke.

She didn’t know whether she should interfere. He was acting so peculiar. He kept snapping his fingers and bobbing his head as though he were agreeing with someone, but no one was talking to him now. His clothing was bizarre too. Though it was the shank of the summer, the stranger wore a heavy wool tweed blazer with leather elbow patches. Needless to say, he was sweating profusely. His unruly beard was soaked through. There were streaks of gray in his beard, but she honestly couldn’t judge how old he was. He was clutching an old leather folder to his chest, and there were papers sticking out every which way.

“May I be of assistance?” she asked.

“Are you with the MacKenna wedding party?”

“Yes, I am.”

His smile widened as he tucked the thick folder under his arm and dug into his plaid wool vest pocket. He pulled out a wrinkled and stained card and handed it to her.

“I’m Professor Horace Athens MacKenna,” he proudly announced. He waited until she had read his name on the card and then snatched it away from her and tucked it back in his vest pocket. He patted the pocket several times as he continued to smile at her.

The security detail had backed away but were warily watching him. No wonder—Professor MacKenna was a bit odd.

“I cannot tell you how thrilled I am to be here.” He extended his hand and added, “This is a momentous occasion. A MacKenna marrying a Buchanan. It’s stunning. Yes, stunning.” He chuckled as he added, “I imagine our MacKenna ancestors are twisting and turning in their graves.”

“I’m not a MacKenna,” she said. “My name is Jordan Buchanan.”

He didn’t rip his hand away from hers, but he came close. His smile disappeared, and he seemed to recoil. “Buchanan? You’re a Buchanan?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“All right,” he said. “All right then. It is a wedding of a MacKenna to a Buchanan. Of course I would be meeting Buchanans. Stands to reason, doesn’t it?”

She was having trouble following. Professor MacKenna’s accent was thick and most unusual, a combination of a Scottish brogue and a southern drawl.

“I’m sorry. Did you say the MacKenna ancestors would be turning in their graves?” she asked, certain she’d misunderstood.

“Yes, that’s what I said, dearie.”

Dearie? He was getting stranger by the second.

“I imagine the Buchanans would be doing a fair amount of tossing in their unholy graves too,” he continued.

“And why would that be?”

“The feud, of course.”

“The feud? I don’t understand. What feud?”

He whipped out his handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his brow. “I’m getting ahead of myself. You must think I’m crazy.”

Yes, that was exactly what she was thinking.

Fortunately, he didn’t require a response to his statement. “I’m parched,” he announced. He tilted his head toward the ballroom she had just exited. “I could use some refreshment.”

“Yes, of course. Please, come with me.”

He latched on to her arm and glanced suspiciously over his shoulder as they walked. “I’m a history professor at Franklin College in Texas. Have you heard of Franklin?”

“No,” she admitted. “I haven’t.”

“It’s a fine school. It’s located just outside Austin. I teach medieval history, or at least I did until I came into some unexpected money and decided to take some time off. A sabbatical of sorts. You see,” he continued, “about fifteen years ago I began researching my family history. It’s been a most invigorating hobby for me. Did you know that there’s bad blood between us?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Bad blood between the Buchanans and the MacKennas, I mean to say. This wedding should never have taken place if history tells us anything.”

“Because of a feud?”

“That’s right, dearie.”

Okay, it was official, she decided. The man was wacko. She was suddenly thankful the agent had checked him for hidden weapons, and she was uneasy about taking him into the ballroom, especially if he was intent on making a scene. On the other hand, he did seem harmless, and he did know Isabel…at least he said he did.

“About Isabel,” she began, determined to find out how the professor knew Kate’s sister.

He was too caught up in his story to listen.

“The feud has been going on for centuries, and every time I think I’ve gotten to the root of it, lo and behold, I find another contradiction.” He vigorously nodded several times and then darted another quick glance behind him as if fearful that someone would sneak up on him. “I’m proud to say I’ve tracked the feud all the way back to the thirteenth century,” he boasted.

As soon as he paused to take a breath, Jordan suggested they find Isabel.