So Over My Head (2010)

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So Over My Head (2010) Page 16

by Jenny B. Jones


  “What are you saying?”

  “I don’t know.” I’m no closer to piecing this all together than I was the day I first stuck on a clown nose. “I’m just trying to get to the truth.”

  “You think they were murdered? Like maybe the mafia? Some gangs? I saw this show about gangs on HBO once, so I know all about them.”

  “No, I don’t think it’s organized crime.” But perhaps something just as sinister.

  Lars hinges at the waist and leans over. “What about aliens?”

  I look into his hazel eyes and can almost see the wide-open space behind them. “I’ll let you know.”

  It’s five o’clock when I walk into the big top. I head straight to the back of the tent where all the props are stored, as well as where my small changing area is. I set my purse down on the ground then reach for the box that contains my clown garb.

  And there sits my long-lost flashlight.

  I’m paralyzed to the spot as chills explode over my skin.

  A hand clamps down on my shoulder, and I turn and scream.

  “Shhh!” Luke covers my mouth, his eyes wide. “What are you doing?” he hisses.

  I just stare at him, my eyes unseeing, my brain moving at a speed that could cause permanent damage.

  “Bella?” His voice is a scratchy whisper. Then his eyes drop to the box. “Oh.”

  I swallow. “You didn’t put it there, did you?”

  He shakes his head. “I never found it. I even managed to sneak in Alfredo’s trailer one more time.” Luke leans down and picks it up, the pink metal gleaming under the dim lights. “It’s definitely yours. And I think someone probably wants to send you a message.”

  I take my flashlight, my fingers sliding across Luke’s palm. “They know I was snooping.”

  “And more than likely are smart enough to know you still are.” His forehead wrinkles in a frown. “You okay?”

  I inhale deeper, willing my breath to slow down. “Yeah. Just kind of caught me off guard.” I quickly fill him in on my conversation with Lars.

  Luke’s voice is barely audible. “You think Red killed Cherry’s parents?”

  “Maybe he wanted them out of the way so he’d inherit the carnival.”

  “But Cherry—?”

  “What if she’s in danger?”

  Luke’s eyes widen briefly. “I was so focused on what could’ve happened to you when the lights fell last night . . .”

  My heart does a small cartwheel.

  “But what if you were just an innocent bystander, and the lights had been rigged to hit Cherry?” He rubs a hand over his face. “Or someone wants you out of the way because you’re getting too close to her . . . and the truth.”

  “This case creeps me out more than the others have.”

  “That’s why we need to work together.” Luke watches me. “Got it?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  His breath comes out in a huff. “Can you at least tryto sound like you mean it? I’m serious here, Bella. No going into trailers by yourself—not even with Ruthie. No being alone with Red or Stewart or anyone from the carnival. We don’t know what we’re dealing with here, but it’s big. And somebody could be out for blood. Not to mention Alfredo is still unaccounted for.”

  “You’re kinda freaking me out.”

  “I wantyou scared.” His hand latches onto my shoulder. “Do you get that? I want you scared enough that you’re watching your back and never alone.” Luke’s hands slide down my arms. “Frightened enough that you’ll be safe. Bella, I can’t protect you every moment, and it’s driving me crazy.”

  “Nobody asked you to protect me.” But strangely enough, for once it sounds kind of nice.

  “I think we should talk to Officer Mark. Update him.”

  “I agree.”

  Luke’s eyes drop back to the flashlight in my hand. “Act like nothing’s wrong tonight, okay? Can you do that?”

  “Of course.” It’s becoming my specialty. “I need to go ask for next weekend off. No time like the present to show Red and Stewart that I’m not bothered at all.”

  “Let’s go.”

  I hesitate for a millisecond before common sense takes over. That and the voice of my mother harping in my head. I follow Luke to the back of the carnival to the trailer areas. We get to the edge of Red’s just as the door flings open. Luke pulls me around the side, and we flatten to the wall.

  “Well, William, this is the finest carnival of its size,” comes Red’s voice. “We have a long history of entertaining families andturning a profit. After we come out of our training season, we’re gonna be better than ever.”

  I peek around the corner and see a short, white-haired man standing on the bottom step of Red’s trailer.

  “I certainly liked what I saw last night. I believe I’ll stick around for this evening’s show as well,” the stranger says, adjusting his white cowboy hat.

  “You do that. My son Stewart will make sure you have the best seats in the house. And if you feel so inclined, you can come back to the trailer after the performance and we’ll discuss the contract.”

  The old man laughs. “It’s always about money with you, isn’t it Red? Always was.”

  Cherry’s uncle throws his head back and laughs. “William, you know I’d consider selling my soul for a good profit. So you knowI won’t hesitate to sell you the carnival.”

  Luke and I exchange a shocked stare, and I can’t resist looking around the corner again.

  “Your price is too rich for me, Red. I don’t think I’m ready to sign over that check just yet.”

  I see Red slap the man on the back. “You just take your time thinking about it. In the end—Red Fritz always gets his way.” A leering grin splits his face. “Always.”

  chapter twenty-three

  People may think New York City is weird, but that town’s got nothing on Dolly’s house when it’s packed with wrestlers.

  “These little shrimp puffs are divine. Can you taste that tar-ragon?” Breath of Death pops one in his mouth and closes his eyes as if placing heaven on his tongue. “Dolly is amazing, Mickey. You should never let her go.”

  Mickey’s gaze drifts over the crowd until he finds his ex-wife. “How right you are.”

  While Mickey still manages Jake’s booming career, he’s also been bombarded with requests from amateur wrestlers to train them, mostly former opponents of Jake’s on the local circuit. I think Breath of Death is going to be his next breakout star—even though outside the ring, he’s girlier than I am. Seriously, ten minutes ago he was quizzing me on my Zac Posen sundress.

  I weave my way through the mass of people in Dolly’s living room and head for her gourmet kitchen, where the food is spread out on two tables. Tonight’s theme, courtesy of my mother’s handiwork, is the fifties. The tables are draped in material that looks like pink poodle skirts. Vinyl records rest between the plates of food, and a rented jukebox plays “You Ain’t Nothing But a Hound Dog.” I expect Elvis to pop out any moment.

  “Great party.” Officer Mark grabs a cucumber and pops it in his mouth. “Wouldn’t expect anything less though. I always love a good Dolly–Jillian throw down.”

  “They do work well together.” I pour the punch into glasses that look like they’re straight from an old time soda fountain. “I hear a lot of this stuff came from Sugar’s Diner. Guess there’s a lot of junk in storage from all their years.”

  He winces. “Sugar’s is so old there could be dead bodies in storage for all we know.”

  “Speaking of dead bodies—”

  “Bella”—Mark holds up hands of surrender—“don’t start. I’m not here as a cop tonight. Just one of Mickey’s boys having a nice evening out with the other manly men.”

  Breath of Death sticks his head between us. “Girl, I just caught a whiff of your perfume, and I loveit!” He flutters his hand toward his nose. “Burberry, right?” The lummox of a wrestler laughs as he floats away, off to interrupt someone else’s conversation.

  I pi
ck up my glass, covering my mouth. “You were saying?”

  Officer Mark sighs and spoons out some spicy chicken dip. “It’s weird that someone that in touch with his feminine side can crush a man’s neck with his knees.”

  “So Luke and I have been working at the carnival,” I begin. “And there’s a lot of weird stuff going on.”

  “Weird?” Mark frowns. “After Alfredo literally threw off his handcuffs and walked away, nothing would surprise me.”

  “Any leads on him yet?”

  “No. Have you heard anything?”

  I shake my head. “But there have been some strange occurrences at the carnival grounds.” I fill him in, including my encounter with the crashing lights. “Luke and I don’t know if it was meant for me or Cherry—or both.”

  “What makes you think it wasn’t just an accident? Circuses get thrown up really quickly, so quality and safety isn’t always a top concern.”

  “I just know.”

  “Bella, if you’re holding out information from the police, you have to let us know what you’ve seen and heard.”

  “But couldn’t we share information—you and I? We’re good friends—that’s what friends do. Share stuff.”

  “Uh-huh,” he smirks. “I’ll remember that next time I want to borrow your flatiron and hairspray.”

  I reach toward a piece of hair sticking up. “Actually you could use a little—”

  He slaps my hand away. “But it doesn’t work the other way. Yougive us information. The end.”

  “You’ve helped me out before.”

  “Beforedidn’t involve a murder.”

  “Well, actually it did. Both times.” Psychotic killers seem to gravitate toward me.

  “You know this is different.” He adds more to his plate. “So tell me what else you’ve discovered—not that I approve of your snooping around.”

  “Last night I overheard Red talking to a potential buyer about the carnival. He’s wanting to sell it.”

  Mark’s hand stills on a serving spoon. “I guess the man’s entitled to sell his own business. Does anyone else know?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  He shrugs and moves down the table. “Still, that’s not really anything suspicious.”

  “I talked to a former employee yesterday who told me about Cherry’s parents’ death.” I fill him in on every detail from Lars.

  Mark puts his plate down and gives me his full attention. “Bella”—he chews on his bottom lip as if weighing a decision— “I already know a lot of this. The sale of the carnival is new information, but the rest, I knew.” His eyes lock with mine. “Please believe me when I tell you that we have it under control. And also believe it when I say you need to stay out of the way. No more following people and hunting up clues.”

  “You know Red and Stewart are connected. Why can’t you just call them in for questioning and confront them with some of this?”

  “This is a delicate situation. And it’s being handled as we see fit.” Again with the intense eyes. “Can you trust me on this?”

  My nosy-meter is off the charts. “What are you not telling me?”

  Mark’s cell phone vibrates on his hip. After a quick check, he hands me his plate. “Gotta run. But I’m serious about the warning. We know we can’t stop you from working at the carnival, but just do your job and go home. Don’t socialize with anyone there, don’t go into any trailers, nothing.” He pats me on the shoulder and gives me his I-know-best look. “You don’t want to be responsible for ruining a very delicate investigation, do you?” He turns on his heel and disappears into the crowd leaving me with a feeling as unsettling as brown guacamole.

  I’m on the inside. Doesn’t Mark get that? I’m close to Cherry. If I bat my eyes enough, I could probably get anything out of Stewart, and I’m there at the carnival almost every day. I’m the inside girl! What’s wrong with helpingthe police?

  A half hour later, I’m sitting by Cherry and Dolly on one of the couches. Peg the dog rests in Cherry’s lap, content to be petted during commercial breaks. Mom watches the Sunday Night Smackdownwith fluctuating expressions of pride, excitement, and sadness as the camera pans to Jake, who gives a play-by-play of the action.

  “He’s really good,” Dolly says. “Just a natural.”

  “My dad’s the coolest.” This from Robbie, who sits on Budge’s lap in a leather chaise.

  Mickey beams. “That’s my Jake.”

  Actually it’s my mom’s Jake. But he seems to belong to everyone but her and this family lately.

  When my phone sings, I get up and answer it in the dining room. “Hello?”

  “Bella, it’s me.” Luke. The boy with the voice that could melt a Popsicle. “Can you meet me at the school parking lot?”

  “Gee, Luke. It’s a little late for a make-out session. But I guess I could brush my teeth and be there in ten.”

  “I’m serious, Bella . . . Actually I’m deadserious.”

  With hasty explanations to the party crowd, I walk out the door and into the steamy evening to my Bug. With my radio cranked up, I’m at the school three songs later.

  I step into the passenger seat of Luke’s 4Runner and inhale leather, faded cologne, and something else that is solely Luke Sullivan. “What’s going on?”

  He looks at me for a moment, taking in my spring skirt and funky shirt, then turns the key. “We’re going to take a little drive.”

  “Is this about us?”

  He pulls the SUV out and onto the road. “You know my conditions, so this couldn’t be about us.”

  Because I have to be the one to initiate a relationship. Or even the next conversation about it. “Where are we going?”

  “The Patton family cemetery.”

  “Why? Is Ashley going to be waiting there for me with a big ax?” Though it’s balmy outside, I suddenly feel like turning the heat on. I’m cold all the way down to my Kate Spade flats. “I’ve never heard of this place.”

  “It’s a small family-owned graveyard. The family’s pretty much died out, so they use it to bury people in town who can’t afford plots in the town cemetery.” He turns onto Main Street. “I was doing a little surveillance tonight and stumbled upon something. I think you’re going to be very interested. Not that you’re dressed for it.” His eyes slide my way again. “You look nice, by the way.”

  Heart flip-flops. “Thanks. If you had given me some notice, I could’ve at least put on some black face paint.”

  A few minutes later Luke turns off on a dirt road.

  “This isn’t a cemetery.” Creepiness radiating in full force now.

  He shuts off the vehicle, reaches in the backseat and grabs a flashlight. “Ready?”

  “Wait.” I rest my hand on his to stop him. “What’s going on?”

  He hands me a dark running jacket. “We’re going to walk down the road a bit. About a fourth of a mile down is the backside of the cemetery. We’ll camp out in some trees. I brought that jacket for you just in case you were decked out in sparkles and neon.”

  “Thanks.” I slip my arms into the sleeves and imagine him playing soccer with it on. “Gonna tell me what’s going on?”

  “Betty the Bearded Lady is buried out here.”

  “Suddenly I don’t really feel like paying my final respects.”

  “Apparently Red and Stewart do.” He opens his door and steps out. “They started digging her up about an hour ago.”

  chapter twenty-four

  We’re going to see Red and Stewart breaking into Betty’s coffin?” Well, here’s the one time I wish he would’vecalled Ashley Timmons instead. “And what—we’re going to see if they’d like some refreshments?”

  Luke locks his vehicle as I hop down. “No, we’re going to see what they’re looking for.” He walks to my side and waits. “Can you handle this?”

  “Uh, yeah.” I snort. “Totally.”

  He slings an arm around me as we hit the dirt road. “Then why are you shaking?”

  “Fever.�
� I swallow hard and try not to think of Betty’s dead corpse. “Probably the flu—just another reason I won’t be making out with you tonight.”

  “Very thoughtful of you.” He drops his arm and reaches for my hand instead. “Stick close to me. I know where I’m going.”

  This moment reminds me of last fall when he and I followed a bloodthirsty group of football boys into the woods at the lake. When they chased us out, we jumped in his 4Runner.

  “Bella, I’m going to need you to trust me to get us out of this. Canyou do that?”

  I could hear the guys gaining on us. I remember yelling, “Dosomething! What’s your plan?”

  “This.” And he leaned in and kissed the life out of me. Fireworks zinged and popped in my head, and I just dove in and went along with it. For survival’s sake, of course.

  I wonder if he’s thinking of that now. Or if he ever does.

  “Bella . . . Bella?”

  Luke tugs on my hand, and I realize he’s been talking. “Um, yes. I agree.”

  I hear his small laugh. “You’re not paying attention. I just asked you if you wanted to go home and snort wet spaghetti noodles up your nose.”

  I tug his hand right back. “Testing me?”

  “Yeah, and you failed.” He keeps walking and pulling me along. “I need you to be on your A game tonight. Just in case we have to make an emergency dash back to the car.”

  And in the dark I see Luke turn his head and look at me. Really look at me. And I know he remembers that night. My cheeks warm, and I smile at him.

  “You ready?” he whispers.

  For you? For this? To tell you I don’t believe you were a willing participantin Ashley’s kiss? “I think I might be.”

  Luke watches me for a suspended moment. For a slip of a second, I think he’s going to kiss me. He reaches out a hand . . .

  . . . and points beyond me. “Right this way.” His attention refocused, he guides me off the road and through some trees. “Watch your step.” He shines his flashlight on the ground as we traipse over grass that rises to my bare calves.

  A few minutes later he’s turned the light off, and I know we’re almost there.

  “Shhh.” He pulls me around a tall pine and points to the left.

 

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