Page 40 of A Dead End Wedding

I just didn’t know.

The past year and a half had been so filled with murder and mysteries that I found myself looking for suspicious activities even where there weren’t any.

“Only three hours until we go back downtown.”

Jack sank down on the couch and pulled me onto his lap. “I wonder what we could do in all that time?”

“Jack! I can’t even think about romance when Uncle Mike’s facing the chess game of his life, and there’s a guest in our backyard, and … and …”

But Jack wasverypersuasive, so I did think about romance.

Just a little.

Thirty minutes till midnight

We stood in a row of solidarity with friends, including Susan, Andy, and Lizzie, Eleanor, Bill, Dave, and Zane, Carlos, Rooster Jenkins, Mr. and Mrs. Frost (they’d had a nap), the Peterson twins, Granny Josephine, Mellie, Lauren, Beau, and even Nigel the ogre and his wifeErin, the fresh-water nymph. So many other Dead Enders stood behind us and ringed the square.

They’d come to support Jack and Carlos, and especially little Shelley.

But this was Uncle Mike. He’d been one of Dead End’s own for more than half a century. For him,everybodycame.

My uncle sat calmly on one side of the ornate chessboard, waiting for the Fae to arrive. I’d asked him if he’d take the white pieces or the black, and he’d said he’d offer the choice to his opponent.

Always the gentleman.

I concentrated as hard as I could on sending him “win, win, win,” thoughts, because I knew it would devastate him if he lost and had to carry the burden of thinking it was his fault we lost the Dead End charter.

I suddenly hated the Fae queen passionately, and was finding it very difficult to hold forgiveness in my heart.

When she appeared, with her retinue of coldly beautiful Fae attendants and guards, she must have felt something of what I was thinking, because her gaze snapped to me.

“Do you have something to say, Tess of the Callahans?” Her voice was icy but held a hint of curiosity.

It suddenly occurred to me I must be a novelty to her. Probably nobody ever challenged her or disagreed with her.

Great.

Somehow, I didn’t think becominginterestingto a Fae queen was a good idea.

“No, Your Majesty,” I said with all the politeness I could manage.

Uncle Mike, who’d stood and bowed the second the queen appeared, waited silently.

“My Champion, Acton, shall play your Champion,” Queen Viviette proclaimed.

A slender male Fae dismounted from his horse and walked over to the chess table. He bowed to Uncle Mike and gestured to the board.

“Your choice, sir.”

Mike returned the bow. For the match, he’d ditched his blue jeans for one of his best church suits. The torch light shone on his white hair and made his blue eyes sparkle. He stood tall and straight, and I loved him so much my chest hurt.

Please, don’t let him be humiliated.

“Your choice, Acton,” Uncle Mike said. “Please.”

“Ah, but it is your town charter at stake. Your choice. As always, white has the first move.”

Uncle Mike nodded his agreement, and then he sat down with the black pieces. I could see this startled Acton. Uncle Mike had told me once that the players who move first consistently win more than the players with the black pieces, who move second.

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