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college,” Abby said. “I find the waves crashing on the beach beautiful in fair weather, but now, it’s like a violent song that Mother Nature is performing just for us.”
    “I know. We get violent storms where I live, but mostly in the spring. Nothing like living in the Midwest during tornado season.” She focused on the horizon where it appeared that the clouds met the water as thunder rumbled around them. Adjusting the shutter speed ring, she counted in her head.
    She pressed on the shutter release and snapped several images in a row, capturing the lightning as it streaked across the sky.
    Then she stopped to count in her head.
    One-one-thousand.
    Two-one-thousand.
    Three-one-thousand.
    Thunder rumbled again. It must be about three miles out.
    “So, you’re from the Midwest?” Abby asked her as she lowered the camera.
    “Columbus, Ohio. Born and raised a Buckeye.”
    Abby’s face beamed with genuine surprise and happiness. “No kidding. That’s where Luke’s from, too.”
    Grabbing the towel she’d thrown over her shoulder in her room earlier, she sat at the table and gently wrapped the camera so it wouldn’t get too much moisture from the damp atmosphere. “Luke wouldn’t be that sexy blond hunk of man who’s been following you around the shoots, would he?”
    A deep blush filled Abby’s face and she smiled. “That would be him.”
    “Boyfriend?”
    Abby nodded. “And bodyguard.”
    “He could pass for a secret agent.”
    At the time she’d been teasing, but later on she’d discovered that not only was Luke really a Treasury Agent with Homeland Security, but so was Abby, working as a model in an undercover assignment. She’d discovered their secret by accident when she overheard a conversation in Milan. When she learned the nature of their work, she promised not to say anything to anyone about it, even working to photograph crowds during her shoots for Abby to study later. That was when she learned her friend’s unique ability to recall anything she ever saw.
    Over the past year, she and Abby bonded over life in the Midwest, cameras, and photography. The fact that she’d proven she could keep a secret had added to their friendship. When the couple decided to have a wedding out of the paparazzi limelight, they’d asked her to do the photography, and she’d been thrilled, honored, and excited.
    Of course, her day had started out in a wild trip from the mountains of Vermont through Boston to Logan International Airport, a bumpy ride back to Columbus, and the taxi ride to the wedding venue. But nothing topped the bizarre meeting with Luke and Abby’s friend Castello.
    Slowly she rotated, keeping her camera up as she searched the crowd milling around the outdoor reception area. The groom’s parents were talking with their youngest grandchildren. His elder brother danced with his wife, while his other brother stood talking with the minister. The bride and groom were talking with the maid of honor, Abby’s friend from childhood, Brianna, and a police detective from Cleveland.
    Another slight turn of her body.
    Then he came into view. Standing at the edge of the outdoor patio he had a line of sight for both the street on the far side of the pavilion where the ceremony had taken place and the river and sidewalk behind him.
    Tall. Strong. Broad shoulders. Thick, wavy, dark hair that had just a touch of grey creeping in at the temples. A little on the gruff side, even in his tuxedo. He studied the crowd and the area beyond. Watching to see if any intruders would interrupt the festivities. Pressing the shutter release, she captured the deputy always on duty.
    Suddenly a child shrieked. A mother shouted.
    Sydney kept shooting as Castello moved, bending down just in time to snatch a pink-and-white taffeta blur bolting towards the slope of grass down to the concrete sidewalk and the river beyond.
    “Gotcha,” he said, and a smile broke that serious face.
    A little flutter caught in Sydney’s