Bitter Reckoning

by Heather Graham

  Quinn looked at Danni, arching a brow.

  “Full access,” she said. “I can go into the site while we head out to the fairgrounds.”

  He nodded. “Ready?”

  “You’re going to hold on that shower, I take it?”

  He didn’t reply; he just opened the door for her.

  They headed quickly out. They could see the social areas—coffee shop, bar, and restaurant—were going strong.

  No one wanted to be alone.

  “What are you thinking?” Quinn asked her, opening the door to head out to their car.

  “I’m thinking there may be a lot of hook-ups—maybe no more than one-night-stands—after today.”

  “Most probably, except…”

  “Except?”

  “Maybe not. How would you know you’re not hooking up with a killer?” Quinn asked.

  Danni shrugged and pulled out her phone, punching in the access to Colleen’s dating site even as she slid into the passenger seat of the car.

  They drove, and as they were nearing the fairgrounds, she had gone through hundreds of names when she found the one she was seeking.

  She gasped and stared over at Quinn.

  He didn’t take his eyes off the road.

  “You found her; you found Belinda Cardigan. She was a client, a prospective match on Colleen’s dating site. The only thing we don’t know now is…was she headed out here?”

  “I can keep digging,” Danni said.

  She started to look back at her phone, but they had reached the fairgrounds. The parking field had begun to empty; it was easy for them to drive up, close to the front.

  And there, right at the entry, high above the ground, were three scarecrows.

  One, two, three…

  All stuffed well with straw and sporting pumpkin-head, large jack-o-lanterns that seemed to grin down at people as they arrived, grins that seemed to offer nothing but malice…

  And pure evil.

  Chapter 8

  Last minutes tickets to the festival were extremely reasonable, and Quinn decided they should go in and look around—before perhaps finding someone in management and suggesting that, under the circumstances, the scarecrows were in very bad taste.

  The poles stood about twenty feet high; the feet of the scarecrows were at just about ten feet; the pumpkin heads were beyond eerie.

  Once they were in, they paused, staring at the things for several minutes.

  “You don’t think a killer could get in here and pose bodies up there, do you?” Danni asked. “That’s high, and they must have security here. You couldn’t leave a place with booths and rides and all kinds of things without security—could you?”

  “I don’t think so,” Quinn said, pocketing his wallet. “But…anyway, let’s take a walk around. Then, I think we should talk to someone about this.”

  “You’re not going to get them to take those scarecrows down,” Danni said.

  “Why not?”

  “Do you think you could get people not to throw beads at Mardi Gras?”

  “If there had been a slew of ‘murder by beads,’ maybe,” Quinn answered.

  “The scarecrows are eerie, I imagine, because around here, they’re supposed to protect people. This fair has been up for a while, and I don’t think it goes down until after Thanksgiving, around the beginning of Christmas season. So, those scarecrows have been there for a bit.”

  “I know. I understand the harvest tradition around here. It’s just now…there are dead people. Murdered by someone with an agenda, and that agenda has to do with scarecrows.”

  “Okay…you can try. For now, let’s walk!”

  They did so; the fair was arranged as a large oval with animal displays—including pigs raised by teens, chickens, rabbits, and more—between food booths and rides.

  They passed by the kids’ section first. Cute. Little cars went around on a small track. There was a train designed to appear to be a much beloved literary “character,” and there were little swings.

  One booth sold jambalaya, boudin, and more. Another offered every kind of hot sauce known to man. Yet another specialized in shrimp and grits and also crawfish etouffee.

  They walked past a wicked looking coaster, and then a “twister,” and then something called the giant—a lift that carried fair-goers way up high and then slid them along a steep slope. Finally, they came upon the “Castle of Terror.” The outside of the ride featured movie monsters including vampires, werewolves, mummies, and more.

  “Let’s take this one,” he suggested.

  Danni arched a brow, wrinkling her face. “Really?”

  “I want to see what’s in it.”

  “You really think someone involved with the fair might be in on these murders?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “No, but I don’t like the giant scarecrows at the front of the fair, and I really want to see what’s in this ride.”

  “Okay,” Danni said.

  They joined the short line that remained at the late hour. The young man checking their entry bracelets gave them a wide smile.

  “Watch out for that big guy of yours!” he teased Danni. He cast Quinn an amused grin. “The big ones may need a lot of cuddling to get through this kind of a fear factory!”

  “I’ll protect him for all I’m worth,” Danni promised.

  They stepped into their little car.

  “You’re going to protect me?” Quinn asked.

  Danni laughed and set her arm around him.

  “Well, semi-romantic,” he said softly.

  The ride jolted. They went by evil jack-in-the-boxes, a black-widow woman with a beating heart in her hand, and the usual number of monsters, all motion-activated to do something frightening as each car went by.

  It was fairly ho-hum. The usual fair ride.

  Until they were at the end. Then, to their right, holding signs that bid the rider good night—and good luck—were three scarecrows.

  Once again, they had pumpkin heads with faces eerily carved.

  “Not good,” Quinn murmured. “Not good.”

  “It’s a ride,” Danni reminded him.

  “A ride—a dark ride. People scream as they go through it. It’s hardly Fort Knox. I can see a dozen ways someone could slip in here.”

  “Okay, well…we can try to do something,” Danni said. “Or you could call Detective Ellsworth who probably has a lot more clout around here.”

  She was right; but he didn’t like the fair. He didn’t like the scarecrows.

  As they left the ride, he remembered he hadn’t eaten. The aroma of food from some of the booths was strong and he looked at Danni.

  “Food,” he said simply.

  “That should be easy enough.”

  The girl at a booth advertising “amazing” jambalaya was about to close up, but she smiled as they approached.

  “I’m sorry. Am I too late?” Quinn asked.

  “No, you have about ten minutes left, and we’re easy. I’d have given you fifteen!”

  He asked for jambalaya and a soda, and she went to dish up his food, returning and still smiling as she took his money and delivered his order.

  Then she glanced uneasily down the path toward the entrance. A quick look of unease, and then she was smiling again.

  “Is anything wrong?” Danni asked her.

  She shook her head. “No, no, I love working the fair. I’m in the community college, but I’m hoping to head to New Orleans and Loyola! They’re great here—I’ve worked it since I was sixteen. Saved a lot.”

  “That’s great,” Danni said. She smiled, too, but she persisted. “You look nervous, though. I guess we’re all nervous.”

  The girl nodded. “The murders in the cemetery.” She hesitated, biting her lip. “I, uh, well, we stay through the last customer, till we’re sure everyone is out. I was cleaning up a bit early. I…”

  “What?” Quinn demanded.

  “I don’t know—I’m imagining things, I think. I thought I heard someone
in the crowd talking about scarecrows and bodies and…Cursed Yvette, and I’m a little freaked out. This area can get really quiet, and…”

  “Hey, finish cleaning up. We’ll walk you out when you’re ready,” Quinn said.

  She stared at them and Danni whacked his arm lightly. “Quinn, show her your I.D. How does she know we’re safe?”

  “Right!”

  “An investigator out of New Orleans?” the girl murmured. “Oh. Oh! There were murders there, too. It’s really scary. I hope this guy has moved on. Not that I wish a murderer on the rest of the state, but…around here, scarecrows are a big thing, and I know I’ll never look at one the same again!”

  “I was wondering if the management might be willing to take them down,” Quinn said.

  “Management?” she asked. “This place is owned by just one man. Oh, I’m sorry—he has people in charge each night to watch out for problems and the like—taking care of any safety issues. And there are police officers here all the time during opening hours, along with private security. But if you want those scarecrows down, there’s just one person to talk to. He’s richer than Midas—but approachable. Nice guy, really—perhaps because he’s from here. Inherited money, but he’s done well with it, and from what I’ve seen, he never forgets where he came from—right here!”

  “You’re talking about Trent Anderson?” Quinn asked.

  She nodded gravely and then offered her hand. “Mr. Quinn, I’m Daphne Alain. And,” she said, offering her hand to Danni.

  “Danni, Danni Cafferty,” she said.

  The girl smiled warmly at her.

  “By the way, that’s such a pretty pendant you’re wearing,” Danni said.

  Quinn hadn’t noticed her jewelry; he looked at the pendent but couldn’t really see it then. Daphne had clutched it in one hand as she beamed at Danni.

  “Thank you! It is pretty—but I’m afraid you’ll see tons just like it! The motif is very popular around here, a copy of an antique piece, I think. They sell pendants just like it or a lot like it at one of the booths right here. If you come back when the place is open, you can see them. The booth is just past the monster ride!”

  “Nice,” Danni said. “If we come back, I’ll definitely go see them.”

  “If you’re really worried about the scarecrows—they’re creeping me out this year, too—you should talk to Mr. Trent,” Daphne said. “He really is a nice man.”

  “I guess we will talk to Mr. Trent Anderson then,” Quinn said, looking at Danni.

  Danni nodded and turned to Daphne. “We’ll be at that table there until you’re ready. Then, we’ll see you to your car.”

  “Thanks!” the girl said. “Oh, would you like something? On the house.”

  “Thank you, I ate earlier, but that was sweet. I’m fine. We’ll be fine waiting for you.”

  “Thanks!”

  They headed to one of the picnic tables set up for diners by the food booths.

  “You don’t mind, do you? This is probably silly, and we could be out of here,” he said to Danni.

  She gave him a look of reproach and indignation. “Of course not!”

  “What was the bit about her necklace?” Quinn asked Danni.

  “I know what it’s copied from. It’s exactly like a pendant in the picture of Yvette. The Yvette whose diary I read and who—I believe—is the murdered Yvette of legend.”

  “But, she said—”

  “Yes, that it’s a common piece, sold at the fairgrounds, and by a dozen different outlets around here. Probably elsewhere—it’s a fleur-de-lis.”

  “But, each fleur-de-lis might be different. And if we are looking for something…ah, hell. There could be a real pendant, causing all kinds of mayhem, and hundreds—or thousands—of knock-offs!”

  “There could be,” Danni said, adding dryly, “we could try to buy them all and find out.”

  He grimaced. “I have a feeling we wouldn’t buy the real one. If there is such a thing, someone else already has it.”

  “How is the jambalaya?”

  “Surprisingly good—delicious, actually.”

  “Good to hear. Maybe I’ll try it—if we come back.” She was silent a minute and then added, “Maybe we won’t have to come back. Trent Anderson does seem like a decent person.”

  “Um. Sure, he was decent enough…and,” he added, “hot and heavy with Colleen’s redhead,” Quinn said.

  “It looks like her co-workers—Albert Bennett and Larry Blythe—know she’s seeing him, too. And not so happy—maybe even trying to get her in trouble with Colleen. Colleen is just too distracted to notice right now, but I think Albert and Larry are wrong. If her employee made a great match, Colleen would be delighted, thinking she created a love-match one way or the other.”

  Quinn nodded, and then frowned. People had walked by them—many people. All leaving the fairgrounds, since rides and booths had now closed for the night. Fewer and fewer people straggled by them.

  It was just about midnight.

  He had a mouthful of food when he first noticed the shadow. He froze, listening to Danni, but not really hearing her.

  Then he stood.

  Daphne’s fears had not been unfounded. He could see someone had slipped behind the booth—there was easy entry from the back. She could have a hand clamped over her mouth and be dragged back—with no one the wiser.

  “Quinn?” Danni said.

  He bolted around behind the booth, just in time for someone to jerk on one of the canvas coverings, causing it to fall between them and around them. Cursing, Quinn lifted it off himself, shouting for Daphne.

  She leapt over the counter, screeching.

  He freed himself, searching in every direction for a runner. Whoever it had been had managed to disappear into the brush that lay behind the set-up of the fair on the field. He could give chase, but most probably to no avail.

  Besides, Danni and Daphne were alone.

  He came around; Daphne was in Danni’s arms, shaking.

  “I quit! I quit!” she said. “Right before you came…I saw the shadow. I was about to scream. The other vendors…no one was here. If you hadn’t waited for me…it might have been nothing. It might have been…oh!”

  Danni looked searchingly at Quinn. He discretely shook his head. “We need to report this to Ellsworth and Larue,” he said. “I know it’s late, but…”

  Daphne winced, looking downward. “I saw the shadow!” she said weakly. “Someone was coming for me. I’m happy to talk to anyone you want!”

  Quinn took out his phone; Danni still held a shaking Daphne.

  He called Larue first; the man answered the phone with a gruff voice. Quinn had obviously awakened him. He quickly grew sharp and promised to call Ellsworth and meet them just outside the entry to the fair.

  In another twenty minutes, both Larue and Ellsworth were there. Quinn explained his concern about the scarecrows, but also said he’d be happy to talk with Trent Anderson himself.

  Ellsworth swore to follow Daphne home and see she was locked in.

  “You know, it could have just been some jerk trying to pick you up,” Ellsworth told Daphne. “The whole parish is going a little bit crazy. I think we’re going to have to call in some help from the state. Everyone is afraid.”

  “State help wouldn’t be a bad thing,” Quinn said.

  “It probably was just some jerk!” Daphne said. “But my booth…I can’t wind up alone out here anymore. I…want to make sure I live to get to a four-year college!”

  Eventually, everyone got into their cars—Ellsworth following Daphne.

  Larue was in his own vehicle.

  Quinn revved the engine to the car he and Danni shared. She yawned suddenly.

  “It’s past one,” she told him.

  “Yeah. Long day. Really, really, really long day.”

  “But a good one—at the end. You saved her life.”

  “Maybe. Maybe we just stopped an ass from trying too hard to pick her up,” Quinn said.

 
; Danni shook her head. “I don’t think so. I think your instincts were right. I think you just put a crimp into the killer’s plans—and there won’t be a display of three dead scarecrow-people tomorrow morning.”

  ***

  It was nearly two when they finally returned to their room at the Honeywell Lodge.

  Danni was bone tired and knew Quinn had to be bone tired, too, but once in their room, he set his weapon and holster on the side of the bed and stripped down before heading toward the shower, kicking off his shoes, jumping on one foot and then other as he stripped off his socks, and shedding his jacket and shirt on his way to the bathroom.

  She heard the shower and hesitated.

  It seemed eons ago they had laid by the pool, teasing one another about romance.

  Long, long, day—as they had said. Still, she stripped quickly herself, heading into the bathroom and joining him in the shower, stepping in behind him and curling her arms around his chest before laying her head on his back.

  He turned to her, pulling her close, their bodies flush against one another.

  “Poster boy, eh?” he teased softly.

  “Um,” she murmured.

  The water sluiced around them as he lifted her chin and kissed her long and deep. The heat of the water and the steam around them seemed beautifully mystical, and yet as his hands slid down her back, mystical became increasingly arousing.

  Quinn fumbled for the faucet and turned off the spray and for a moment he paused, looking into her eyes. He smiled, and she felt the extent of his arousal against her.

  She smiled slowly as well as he stepped out, drawing her with him, and groped for a towel, dropping the first, securing the second.

  He wrapped it around her and they met in a fierce kiss once again, one that brought them half dried and half still damp through the steam that embraced the bathroom out to the bedroom area and onto the large bed that dominated the room.

  She loved the way he looked at her, the way he touched her. His hands were large, his fingers long, and as they played over the length of her, she felt a gasp of pleasure escaping her. She grinned and touched him in return. Their mouths met again in a fury of a kiss before his lips travelled, and her fingers played over his shoulders as his touches and kisses travelled the length of her.