A circlet of bangles that sounded like wind chimes when she walked were clipped around each ankle, with matching ones around her wrists. Shoes were nothing more than thin leather soles kept on her feet with the tiniest strap of leather across her toes. She removed them before she danced, because Aunt Tressa had taught her to feel the rhythm with her feet. However, it was only a costume that night. She was a fortune-teller, and no one had asked her to dance.

The orange costume was her very first grown-up dancer’s outfit. Aunt Tressa gave it to her for her eighteenth birthday and she’d worn it when she danced that night on the small porch attached to the fortune-teller’s wagon. After her dance, people had lined up for two blocks waiting to have their fortune told by the Egyptian Dharma. The bra top was covered in bright, shiny rhinestones and sequins, creating a pattern that glistened from every angle when she moved. A fringe cascade below her bustline hung at varying lengths, drawing the eye downward toward her belly button and the intricate belt topping off a sheer, handkerchief-hem skirt. The wide, V-shaped belt matched the bra with sequins and rhinestones.

She affixed a rhinestone the size of a lima bean to her belly button and picked up the most important piece of her costume—a two-by-six-foot length of chiffon, scattered with rhinestones and bugle beads, that served as both a veil and a shawl around her shoulders.

Raylen had offered to come for her, but she’d opted to take herself so that she could leave if she wanted. She slipped her leather jacket over her outfit and was careful not to close the truck door on her skirt or shawl when she left. A Texas Highway Patrol fell in behind her when she pulled out onto the highway.

Now that would take some explaining if he pulled me over for speeding. Yes, sir, Mr. Patrolman, I’m a real belly dancer and I’m on my way to tell fortunes. Flip your hand out here, and I’ll be glad to tell you how long you will live. Oh, my, you are going to have a very short life unless you let me go without even a warning. She giggled nervously as she turned into the O’Donnells’ lane.

The highway patrol turned with her.

She kept a check in her rearview mirror.

She drove past the two-story house and made a left turn, following the two ruts that made a path toward the big, lit-up barn which would have been no more than half a mile from her house if she’d walked straight west. She passed a log cabin and slowed down to a crawl. Light pouring through the windows cast a yellow glow on the shrubs. A hound dog was silhouetted on the porch, and while she eased past what had to be Raylen’s house the lights suddenly went out, the front door opened, and the dog yipped. Gemma stepped out and waved at Liz.