Page 64 of Head Room (Caught Dead in Wyoming #15)

We were married.

True, we had a second wedding coming, but this one did the job legally, as well as Tom respecting my family.

We’d passed the last pew, when I realized no one was following us. Granted, this was an intimate group, but not even our attendants, much less the few guests were behind us.

We turned.

And there was Tamantha stopped at the head of the aisle with her arms raised overhead.

When she saw we were watching, she pointed one foot, grinned at us, then tipped herself toward us.

The skirt of her glossy pale green dress flipped up, revealing that she wore a pair of darker green shorts underneath.

Tamantha connected with the floor with one hand, then the other, each leg elegantly straight in the air before she landed one foot, then the other.

A perfect cartwheel, finished off with artistically raised arms.

She landed with her back to us, but as applause erupted from the others, she turned with a face-swallowing grin.

It was still there as she did another cartwheel, gobbling up the aisle to nearly catch up to us.

We joined in the ongoing applause and grinned as much as she did.

* * * *

We took photos after the wedding.

Diana had recommended the photographer, so I had confidence they’d turn out well. Including appropriate head room.

Something about that thought rattled in my brain like a loose marble.

Head room brought to mind the first time seeing Kim Droemi, when the angle of my view cut off all the head room.

That didn’t go anywhere.

Something that connected with Kyle Vaughn Quetcher Moser?

He, like Fletcher Ransom, juggled around his names to create a new identity, but . . .

Nope. Couldn’t make a connection there, either.

This loose marble joined dozens in my head.

Maybe that’s what head room made me think of — that I had none left with all the marbles.

We changed out of our wedding clothes — handing them over to my mother like a loving but strict wardrobe mistress.

Lunch at the Haber House Hotel was both delicious and joyous.

We had a grand time.

Yes, the marriage was what counted, but this multi-day party was definitely growing on me.

* * * *

According to the spreadsheet, I was supposed to be resting before this evening’s cookout at the Circle B.

I had my device open to Irene’s manuscript when my phone dinged.

Mike.

“I’m at the sheriff’s department. You aren’t going to believe this, but Shelton didn’t say no about you coming and observing the questioning of Kyle Quetcher, or whatever his name is.”

I was already out of bed and putting my shoes back on.

With Mom at the ranch getting ready for tonight, I didn’t even have to sneak out of my house.