She paused, chewing her lip in disappointed distress. After a long day of driving, she’d really been looking forward to something that she hadn’t cobbled together herself in her kitchenette. And it didn’t help that the wedding party seemed to center around some sort of meat-laden firepit. The smoke wafting across the square smelled like absolute heaven.

“Hello!”

Charlotte turned to see a man in a dark bespoke suit, all broad shoulders and dark blond hair, walking briskly towards her. He looked like a central casting version of an upwardly mobile prosecutor. She hoped desperately that she hadn’t violated some archaic local parking law. She didn’t have time to serve in the local … wait, did they have a local jail here? She didn’t see one.

“Hi, there, are you Charlotte McBee, by any chance?” Mr. Upwardly Mobile asked, extending his hand for a shake.

“I am,” Charlotte said.

The man grinned broadly. “I’m Alex Lancaster, generally known as AJ Lancaster on my stationery. The head office said you’d wrapped up your previous assignment early and should be arriving in town this weekend,” he said.

Alex Lancaster, the League’s new executive director of the Mystic Bayou project. Her boss. And she didn’t think she’d combed her unruly hair since driving through Arkansas.

It was possible to sigh inside her own head, right?

“They told you about the Silver Stork, didn’t they?” she said, cringing slightly as she shook his hand.

“They did say it would make you easy to spot, which it did,” he said brightly, gesturing towards the gathering of people who were pretending they weren’t watching the exchange. “Are you hungry? We could get you fed while you’re introduced to everybody.”

“Oh, I would hate to intrude,” she said, shaking her head. “The happy couple aren’t expecting me and I couldn’t just join in. It’s bad manners.”

“Actually, the bride is one of your prospective patients … and one of your supervisors. Besides, Jillian’s been on edge, waiting for you to get into town. If she knew who you were, she’d probably drag you across the square herself.” He paused and shuddered. “Actually, come to think of it, I think I could be in a lot of trouble if I didn’t introduce you. She took off Adam McTeague’s eyebrows the other day when he tried to talk over a scheduled bathroom break during a committee meeting. Pregnant phoenixes are dangerous in ways I did not expect.”

“Well, if you put it that way,” she sighed, glancing down at her cotton shorts and jean jacket. “Should I change?”