Model Menace 2 (2 page)

Gradually the din grew quieter, and people began to split off and search for their seats among the carefully arranged tables. Hans led Syd and Vic over to their private table right by the jousting floor, whispering some last-minute instructions. Bess, George, and I walked back to the bridesmaids’ table, where our fellow bridesmaids Deb, Akinyi, and Pandora had already gathered.

“Isn’t this something!” Giggly Deb Camden, one of Syd’s old friends from River Heights, greeted us as we walked over to our seats. “All these people! These beautiful decorations! I bet this is going to be a
knight
to remember! Ahahahahahahahaha!”

Snorting, Deb turned to George and firmly poked her shoulder a couple times. “Get it? A
knight
to remember, like the knights of the round table?
Get
it?”

George looked pained. And actually, those pokes looked like they hurt. “Ha…ha,” George replied weakly, settling into her seat with a stone-faced expression. “Hilarious, Deb. As always.”

“Oh! I just love parties!” Deb giggled, settling down next to George.

“Me too,” George agreed, shooting a look at Bess and me. “And I have a feeling this is going to be a long one.”

I kept an eye on Syd throughout dinner (a huge hunk of meat we had to eat with our hands, per the medieval theme). She was visibly nervous, but she did seem to push her worries to the back burner and have a good time chatting and laughing with Vic. It always made me feel better about this whole wedding insanity to watch the two of them together. However bumpy their ride to the altar might be, they clearly loved each other very much.

As dessert was winding down, Bess poked my arm. “Want to go chat with Syd?” she asked me and George. “It looks like Vic excused himself to the restroom, and she’s sitting there all alone.”

I moved to get up. “Sure. Why—”

But I was cut off by an announcer’s voice.

“WELLLLLCOME TO MEAD, WHERE EVERYONE HAS A KNIGHT IN SHINING ARMOR! If everyone will just return to their seats, we’re about to start the jousting show…”

Bess, George, and I thunked back into our chairs.

“There goes that idea,” George muttered.

As she spoke, the lights dimmed, and bright spotlights illuminated the jousting floor, which seemed to be just a huge pen covered in sawdust in the middle of the room.

“Please welcome our jousters tonight, Malvolio, the black knight, and Romeo, the white!”

As we watched, two knights on horses suddenly rode in from a far entrance, each elaborately costumed in shiny armor and their color of choice. They each circled the ring, waving at the crowd and pumping their arms for applause. The crowd went nuts.

“Let’s get started!” the announcer continued. We all watched as the knights faced off in the center of the ring. When the announcer said “go,” they began jousting, which was much more complicated than I’d thought. There was lots of dodging on the horses and running around the ring. It seemed that both knights had fans in the audience, and people were very loud about supporting their favorites!

“Come on, Romeo!” Deb Camden cheered next to us. “Rip him off his horse!”

“Deb,”
Akinyi, the maid of honor, cautioned from across the table. “It’s just a display, you know? It’s all fake.” Akinyi shook her head and sighed, looking like she felt very above this whole display. Ever since she’d arrived in River Heights, Akinyi had seemed slightly out of sorts—complaining about her wardrobe, the town, the way she was going to look on camera, you name it. I wasn’t sure what to make of it, except that Akinyi must be a very particular person—and not used to leaving New York City very often.

Deb looked a little chastened, and I could tell Bess felt bad. “Rip him off his horse?” she asked Deb, poking her on the shoulder. “Give me a break! Malvolio’s got this all wrapped up.”

Recognizing a kindred soul in Bess, Deb grinned. “Are you kidding? Malvolio couldn’t joust his way out of a paper bag.”

Suddenly the cheers and jeers all through the room intensified. I glanced back to the jousting floor, and saw the white knight advance on Malvolio, knocking him off his horse!

“The winner…” the announcer cried, “is Romeo, the white knight!”

Deb went crazy, cheering and hooting, and I noticed Akinyi rolling her eyes at her boyfriend, Josh, as she pulled out a compact to check her makeup. Bess booed, and George and I clapped politely.

The black knight mounted his horse again, and they both moved to the center of the ring. I noticed a man with a microphone—he must be the announcer, who we hadn’t seen until then—moving into the ring to join them.

“Let’s hear it for the black knight!” he called, and the room erupted into cheers and applause. The black knight took off his shiny helmet, revealing a smiling, bearded face. He waved and smiled, gesturing proudly to his horse. The applause intensified.

Beaming, the announcer turned from him to the white knight. “And let’s hear it…for
Vic Valdez
!”

A confused hush went through the crowd as the white knight directed his horse to the middle of the rung and pulled off his helmet, revealing Vic! I glanced over at Syd, who was beaming and laughing, and realized that, sure enough, Vic had never returned to his place at their table.

“Your white knight in shining armor, Sydney!” the announcer called, gesturing at Vic. Vic was laughing and waving enthusiastically, doing muscleman poses (as best he could atop his horse) and showing off. I looked over and saw Syd cracking up, seemingly totally at ease now—that made me happy.

But suddenly there was a loud noise, and everything seemed to happen at once. Vic’s horse, a gorgeous white stallion, spooked and started running for the exit. Vic, caught off guard and still preening, lurched backward—and with a sickening
thud
, he fell off the stallion and landed headfirst on the ground!

“O
h my gosh!” Syd shrieked and jumped up from her table, barreling toward the jousting ring. “Vic! No!”

I could feel myself tensing up. Has the wedding saboteur struck again? Whoever it was, this wasn’t the first time he or she had targeted Vic.

But just as the crowd was beginning to freak out, Vic began to move. He rubbed his head and slowly moved into a sitting position. Shaking his head like he was dizzy, he sat for a few seconds before carefully pushing himself up to a standing position.

“Vic!” Syd cried again. She’d reached the gate to the jousting ring, and a waiter ran over to open it and let her get to her fiancé.

“I’m okay!” Vic called. Then the announcer handed Vic his microphone, and he repeated so we all could hear: “I’m okay! Nobody panic! My horse just got a little too excited!”

“Vic, are you sure?” Syd cried, running toward him and throwing her arms around him. “You don’t have a concussion? You bumped your head so hard!”

Vic shook his head. “It must have looked worse than it was. Actually, I landed on my elbow, which is crazy sore, yeah.”

Looking sympathetic, Syd reached out and stroked his elbow. The announcer took the microphone back from Vic.

“We’re so sorry to have frightened you, ladies and gentlemen,” he told the crowd. “It sounded like someone dropped a pot in the kitchen, and Vic’s horse was feeling a little nervous tonight. But our hero is fine!”

The crowd erupted into cheers, and I glanced at George with a shrug.
Hoo…ray?
After all the crazy things that had happened since we started preparing for this wedding, I wasn’t sure what to think.

“You think it was really someone dropping a pot in the kitchen?” George whispered.

“Not any pot I’m familiar with, but I guess so,” I replied, looking down at Syd and Vic. Any concern that Syd had been feeling seemed to have evaporated. “If not, it seems like kind of a faulty plan. Everyone’s fine—except maybe one freaked-out horse.”

George nodded as the announcer spoke into the microphone again. “Now we have another surprise for our happy couple.”

A murmur went through the crowd as a fully costumed knight—this time wearing a complete suit of armor—slowly walked into the ring. The armor, which must have weighed a ton, clinked and clunked with every step he (or she?) took. Syd and Vic exchanged looks of confusion. A hush went over the crowd as everyone leaned in to hear what was really going on.

“We have a surprise guest for you,” the announcer said, turning to Syd and Vic with a huge grin. “Someone you haven’t seen in a very long time. This person—a good friend of yours, Vic—is like a modern-day knight: courageous and brave! Does anyone have any guesses?”

Syd smiled, watching Vic as his face went from confusion to total happiness. “It couldn’t be…could it?” he asked, glancing down at Syd and then taking a step closer to the “knight,” who now stood just a few feet away. “It can’t…there’s no way he’d get permission to…”

The armor started clinking rhythmically as the mystery knight started to chuckle. A huge grin spread over Vic’s face, and then he started running toward the knight. “Jamal? JAMAL!”

The knight reached up to pull off his heavy helmet, revealing the smiling, laughing face of an attractive, short-haired African-American man about Vic’s age. He cracked up as Vic jumped on him, throwing his arms around his suit of armor and laughing hysterically. “
Jamal!
This is my best friend since forever! Oh my gosh, Syd, I can’t believe he’s here! He’s a Marine, serving in Iraq…he…he…”

Vic turned and looked at his fiancée, who was wearing a huge cat-that-ate-the-canary grin. His jaw dropped.

“You
knew
?”

Syd started laughing as Vic looked, amazed, from his best friend to her.

“You
knew
and you kept it quiet all this time?”

Syd nodded, and Vic playfully lunged at her, slowing at the last minute to engulf her in a huge hug. Syd giggled happily, hugging him close.

The announcer grinned, then spoke into the microphone. “Sydney, why don’t you explain to everyone who this fine young man is?”

Syd pulled away from Vic, patting his shoulder, and took the mike. “This is Jamal Washburn,” she announced, as Jamal struggled to pull off the rest of his suit of armor. Underneath, he was wearing a military dress uniform. He
did
look like a modern-day knight: fit, brave, and full of honor. “He’s Vic’s best friend since they were both little. He’s a Marine, and he’s serving his second tour in Iraq. We didn’t think he’d get leave to come to our wedding, but…”

Free of the heavy armor, Jamal dove toward Vic, and they hugged again. I swore I saw tears dripping down Vic’s face.

The announcer took back the microphone. “What a beautiful reunion!” he cried. “Now, you boys will have plenty of time to catch up at the bachelor party. Because it’s time for the girls and guys to separate. Ladies, please make your way to the event room downstairs! Gentlemen, you’ll be in the party room to the right.”

Someone turned on music, which blared Lionel Richie’s “Celebrate.”

“Old school,” Bess murmured. “I like it.”

I pushed back from the table and glanced at my best friends. “Shall we?” I asked.

Syd and Vic were still catching up with Jamal on the jousting floor, but the guests moved pretty quickly to get to their respective parties. Bess, George, and I made our way downstairs, where the gentle strains of “Celebrate” were replaced by Pink’s “Let’s Get this Party Started,” which blared over the stereo system. Downstairs, the walls were upholstered in royal purple and emerald green velvet, and dim, pink lighting illuminated a small karaoke stage. A good portion of the crew and camera men were already set up in the small space, ready to film all of the action. In addition to those cameras, I noticed a video camera aimed at the stage, and Bess squeezed my arm and pointed to huge video screens arranged across the room. “Look, Nance!” she cried excitedly. “We could sing a song and be famous!”

George looked like she’d rather eat paint. “Don’t count on it,” she warned her cousin.

The room was slowly filling up, and the three of us took cups of fizzy punch from a waiter who danced by in a court jester costume. Other waiters strolled by with trays of meat, cheese, and tiny pastries filled with apples and honey. As we chatted and waited for Syd to come down, Deb Camden stepped onto the karaoke stage and started giggling uncontrollably.

Bess bit her lip. “This oughtta be good.”

George sighed. “‘Good’ must mean something different to you.”

“Hee! Oh, hee hee! Okay, I mean, no really…hehehehehe!” Deb was turning red, looking from the crowd to the extensive
Daredevils
crew.

“Sing something!” someone shouted impatiently from the crowd. I didn’t see who had yelled it, but it sounded like Akinyi.

“Hehehehe! Okay, okay.” Deb took a deep breath and stared at a spot on the floor, seeming to center herself. She paused, miraculously giggle-free, and looked up into the camera. “I would like to serenade you all,” she announced, “with a little ditty by Britney Spears, entitled ‘Oops I Did it Again.’”

George closed her eyes, looking pained. “Kill me,” she begged.

Electronic notes sounded, and Deb began shifting abruptly from hip to hip, side to side. “Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah,” she sang. “Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah…”

George turned to me. “I find myself in need of a distraction,” she announced, grabbing another glass of fizzy punch off a tray that went by with a jingling jester. “Who can we talk to?”

I looked around. Standing a few feet away from us, moving in an odd, new-agey way to the music, was Pandora, one of our fellow bridesmaids and Vic’s former
Daredevils
teammate—and public romance. I knew Syd wasn’t too fond of Pandora—nothing personal, it was just odd for her to have her fiancé’s former flame involved in her wedding—and a little part of me wondered whether Pandora might not be quite over Vic. In other words, she would be an
excellent
person to chat up and try to get to know a little better.

I nudged George and gestured to Pandora. She nodded, sending a last pained look in Deb’s direction. “Let’s do this.”

Bess followed as we walked over to Pandora with friendly smiles. “Hey, Pandora,” I said casually, taking a sip of my punch. “Are you enjoying the party so far?”

Pandora looked genuinely happy to see us, and she stopped dancing to nod enthusiastically. “Oh, this party is the best!” she enthused. “Everyone seems so happy. Look at Deb up there—her aura is
totally
pink.”

“Uh, yeah,” Bess nodded, glancing at Deb—who was writhing to the music. “Did you enjoy the jousting?”

Pandora turned serious. “Normally I despise any kind of violence, but since it was all in fun, I guess it was all right.” She turned to me, concern clouding her face. “Thank goodness Vic is all right, right?” she asked. “I was so nervous when he fell. Especially when I thought about everything that’s happened so far.”

I nodded. “Yes, thank goodness it was just an accident.”

Pandora nodded, turning back to face the stage with a thoughtful expression. While she was outwardly agreeing with me, she seemed to be chewing something over in her mind. Finally she sighed and turned back to face us. “You know what’s strange?”

“What?” George asked.

Pandora shook her head. “It’ll seem crazy, I know. I know you caught the person behind all the crazy pranks, Nancy, and I know Candy’s gone home. But I’m still feeling…just…” She made a pained face, like it was actually hurting her, whatever she was feeling.

“Nervous?” Bess suggested helpfully.

Pandora relaxed her face and shook her head. “No. If it was just
me
feeling it, it would be nervous. But it’s bigger than that. It’s like the universe—” She stopped and sighed, frustrated. “The only way I can explain it to you is
bad vibes.
With Candy caught and Syd and Vic feeling so happy, I feel like I should be getting
great
vibes about this wedding. But I’m not. I’m sensing fear and anger and sadness…and pain, both emotional and physical.”

I glanced at my friends, cringing.

Pandora turned to me. “My senses must be way off, right?” she asked. “I keep performing cleansing rituals every morning, thinking it will help. But I’m still getting these bad vibes.”

Bess nudged me. I knew what she was thinking: Should we tell Pandora that there was still at least one culprit out there? That Candy wasn’t behind the most dastardly prank, and someone was still trying to frighten Syd with text messages and e-mails?

I looked at Bess and shook my head slightly.
No.
As much as I wanted to assure Pandora she wasn’t crazy—that her senses were dead on, actually—I knew I’d better not. We had a better shot of finding the culprit if no one knew we were looking. Otherwise the guilty party might start changing his or her behavior to throw us off track.

“Maybe you’re just dehydrated,” Bess suggested helpfully, placing her hand on Pandora’s shoulder. “Be sure to drink plenty of water, okay?”

But George was moving in for the kill. “Maybe it just feels strange to you,” she suggested, “watching someone you used to be so close to get married. Could that be causing your weird vibes?”

Pandora turned to George, and for just a second, an emotion I couldn’t identify flashed in her eyes. Was it anger? Disbelief? Fear? Just as soon as it sparked, though, it was gone, and Pandora was back to her usual spacey expression. “Maybe,” she replied breezily. “Vic and I were way in love. But past is past, you know?”

Onstage, Deb finished her solo, and two girls stepped up to start singing the Indigo Girls’ “Closer to Fine.” Pandora broke into a huge grin.

“Oh, I love this song,” she announced, beginning to move and sway in her signature new-agey moves. “Will you excuse me?”

And with that she walked over to a man dressed up like a court jester who was juggling pins and began dancing toward him. The jester looked a little confused, but soon began swaying to match her, and eventually started juggling around her. Pandora laughed heartily, and he did too. Even though it seemed they had never met before, they were suddenly in their own little world.

“Kind of ridiculous, isn’t she?” a voice asked behind us. We all turned to spot Akinyi, juggling a drink and a plate of hors d’oeuvres.

“Pandora?” Bess asked lightly. “Well, she dances to the beat of her own drummer, that’s for sure.”

Akinyi narrowed her eyes. “She’s a first-class nut job,” she replied simply. “Let’s face it—the three of you and me are the only normal people in the whole bridal party.”

Bess glanced at George and I uncomfortably. “Well, Syd’s pretty normal…”

Akinyi scowled. “Of
course
Syd is normal!” she replied, raising her voice a little. “Although…” she went on, casting her eyes around the room with a less-than-enchanted expression, “the Syd I know would not go for any of this. I’m surprised at her lack of taste.”

George frowned. “So you’re not enjoying this party?” she asked.

Akinyi sighed and shook her head, the scowl fading from her face. “Oh, ignore me,” she encouraged us, reaching out to touch George’s arm. “I’m so tired, I don’t know what I’m saying anymore. They moved us into this horrible fleabag hotel, and I can barely sleep there.”

“What hotel is it?” Bess asked sympathetically.

Akinyi sighed. “The Hotel Bristol?” she said, in the same tone you might say, “the dump” or “the sewage treatment plant.”

“That’s supposed to be a nice hotel,” George piped up, looking confused. “It’s right downtown, right? With the circular driveway and the columns?”

Akinyi shrugged. “It doesn’t even have a spa,” she said with a dismissive shake of her head. “And the hotel restaurant doesn’t have sushi. Not only do they not have sushi, but they told me they didn’t know
any
place in town that serves sushi after 11 p.m.!”