Calamity at the Carnival

by London Lovett

  I waited for her to walk around to each little airplane to make sure the teeny pilots were belted in. She got back to the control panel and did a cute little announcement telling the pilots the runway was clear for takeoff. Giggles and yells squirted through the night air as the airplanes stuttered forward and then lifted a few feet off the ground.

  "Hello, I know you're busy, but I was looking for Brianna. She mentioned that she was going to be working the airplane ride."

  The girl had rainbow framed glasses and two silver peace signs hanging from her ears. "Are you a friend?" she asked.

  "Just an acquaintance."

  "Are you with the police? Brianna's not here," she continued, without my answer. It seemed police or not, she didn't want to get involved. "She took the night off."

  "I see. Is she in her trailer? I'm not with the police. I was just hoping to talk to her."

  "Yeah, I think she took some aspirin. She'd been crying a lot." She drew her lips tight as if she worried she'd said too much.

  "Poor thing. She's in the third RV from the end, right?" I asked, deciding to just throw a guess out there.

  "Fourth." She turned back to the control panels to focus on her little pilots.

  "Thanks." I walked quickly toward the back of the lot where the motorhomes were parked. I wasn't sure exactly how to go about my next plan, but I was sure something would come to me when I got there.

  I'd used up about five minutes of my precious time just walking from one end of the carnival to the other and back again. A light was on in the fourth motorhome. I had no time to come up with any elaborate ruse or explanation as to why I was lurking around the trailers. I marched toward the vehicle, then a thought stopped me short. During our last conversation, Brianna had pointed out Cody. He was stooped forward with hands in his pockets, seemingly trying to avoid the frigid air coming down off the mountains. I'd mentioned that he looked cold. She told me that someone had taken his sweatshirt while he was working. I should have thought of it before. I blamed it on the emotional kerfuffle I was dealing with at home with Edward.

  I walked up the three steps and knocked.

  "Who is it?" a wavering voice called through a small open window on the side of the RV.

  "Uh, is that you, Brianna? It's Sunni Taylor from Junction Times. We met a few days ago."

  I expected a 'go away, I don't want to talk to anyone' response but was surprised when the door opened. Brianna's nose was red and her eyes were puffy. She was clutching a pillow with the names Cody and Brianna stitched into it.

  "What are you doing here?" she asked with a sniffle.

  "It's sort of complicated." I decided to go with a straightforward approach. As much as I would have liked to start with a few minutes of comforting words, I had no time to waste. I needed to get straight to it. "My real job is a reporter, as you know, but I'm also a part-time private investigator of sorts. I don't get paid for it, of course, but I dabble in solving local murders." So much for getting straight to it. I was, as Edward would be keen to point out, blathering on. "Brianna, I heard about Cody and I'm very sorry."

  "He didn't do it." She pushed the pillow over her face to stifle a sob, then lowered it. "Cody hardly even knew Cherise. I don't think they ever spoke. Some of the girls were whispering that they were seeing each other and that was why she broke it off with Calvin. But they are wrong. Cody loves me." She hugged the pillow tightly against her and a loud hiccough followed. "Darn, there I go again with those stupid hiccoughs."

  "Let's get you a drink of water," I said. "If you don't mind me coming in for a second, I want to talk to you about the murder. If Cody had no motive and he hardly knew Cherise, then the police will soon discover that they have the wrong person. And I can attest to the fact that you told me his sweatshirt was stolen while he was working."

  Her mouth dropped open and she blinked her puffy eyes in surprise. "How did you know about the sweatshirt?"

  I'd stumbled and needed to recover quickly. I couldn't let her know that I'd caused this terrible chain of events for Cody. "I have a connection at the police station. Since I'm covering the carnival, my friend keeps me caught up on the investigation."

  With her red nose and puffy eyes, she reminded me of a little girl who had lost her kitten. "Did you tell your friend that Cody lost his sweatshirt?" she asked weakly.

  "I didn't at the time because, to be honest, I only just now remembered. But I promise, I will tell him first chance I get."

  Brianna stepped back to silently invite me inside. It was a cramped space that reminded me of a large storage container. It was crammed full of six mattresses each partnered with a short, narrow chest of drawers and a lamp. The kitchenette in the center was no more than a sink and two cupboards with a built in microwave. A dorm room sized refrigerator was jammed under the counter. A few of the personal spaces were decorated with posters and family pictures, but it was hardly inviting or homey. Life on the road certainly afforded no luxuries.

  "The police have the wrong guy." Brianna kept talking as she walked back to her space. With no central area for people to gather or talk, we had no choice except to sit on her bed. She reached into her dresser and pulled out a very well executed colored pencil sketch of herself. Underneath it said, to my soul mate, you rock Bri. "I mean would a killer draw something this awesome?" she asked as she rubbed her nose with the back of her hand.

  "He's very talented. You should get it framed," I suggested.

  "I will, once I'm back home. I'd offer you a soda but I think Terry, one of my roommates, drank the last one."

  "No problem. I'm fine." I glanced around at the surroundings. "I guess there's not much privacy for you guys when you're on the road."

  She huffed and tossed her pillow behind her on the bed. "You can say that again. What brought you back here to the motorhomes?" she asked.

  "Like I said, I occasionally investigate murders. Not with the police, of course. Nothing official. I sort of run a parallel investigation using my reporter's instincts and wits. I've been successful too. I'm hoping I can help make sure Cody's name is cleared." I knew I was going out on a limb, but my intuition told me Cody had nothing to do with Cherise's murder.

  "That would be awesome. What can I do to help?"

  "I was hoping to get a look around Cherise's things."

  "The police already searched through them. Well, not really searched but they looked around. I mean it's not as if there's much to search." She waved her hand toward the front of the room.

  I sat up straighter. "Do you mean Cherise bunked in here, with you?"

  "Yeah, didn't you know?" she was genuinely surprised but not nearly as surprised as I was at my luck. "Her bed is the second one on the right. The one with the vintage Titanic movie poster. She had a thing for Leo."

  I shrugged and smiled, thinking how cute but annoying that she considered it a vintage poster. "Leo was awfully adorable in that movie. Do you think it would be all right for me to look around her stuff? I won't mess anything up."

  "I don't see why not."

  I scooted through the narrow passage between the mattresses and dressers to the second bed on the right. I reached under the lampshade and turned on the light. It was a dim bulb but it gave out enough glow for me to see the space. Cherise's bed was one of the few beds that was made. It was topped with two plush velvet pillows that were decorated with gold stars, fitting decor for a fortune teller. I pulled open the top drawer. It was filled with a hairbrush, comb, hairdryer and various shampoos and soaps.

  Brianna had rested back on her pillows. She was thumbing through stuff on her phone, not the slightest bit interested in my search of Cherise's belongings.

  "Did you two get along well?" I asked. "Since you were roommates and all."

  Brianna peered up over her phone. "We just didn't say much to each other at all. Cherise kind of liked to keep to herself. I don't think the police found much of anything. They weren't even here for ten minutes. They took her phone but that's all."

&
nbsp; "I suppose you all have to travel pretty lightly since you aren't given much space." I shuffled through the second drawer. It was filled with just what I would expect, clothing and socks. Her gold leather jacket was folded neatly and took up the entire bottom drawer. The leopard print boots she was wearing the night I met her at Lana's were tucked in between the mattress and the dresser. It was easy to see why the police didn't need much time to search her belongings.

  "She liked to sew while we were on the road. She made those two pillows on her bed," Brianna said without looking up from her phone.

  I picked up a pillow and ran my finger along the tight, neat stitching on one of the stars. "She was skilled with a needle and thread." I placed the pillow down and took a moment to look closer at the vintage movie poster.

  It was the iconic picture of Leo and Kate standing at the ship's prow with arms outstretched. "This was such a good movie. Long but good," I noted. As I pulled my eyes away, I caught a glimpse of something white sticking out from behind the poster. It was the corner of a piece of paper.

  I glanced back at Brianna. She was fully absorbed with something on her phone. I pinched the corner of the paper and gave it a little tug. A folded piece of paper slid out. As I freed it from the poster, the note fell open. A hundred dollar bill fluttered to the floor.

  I stooped down and picked up the cash and read the note while I was still crouched down low enough that Brianna couldn't see what I was up to. Not that she would care either way, it seemed.

  It was a piece of paper with a company letterhead, Wright Electric was written in black print across the top. The rest of the paper was blank. Not wanting to disturb any of the space, I tucked the hundred dollar bill back into the paper and slipped it behind the poster.

  I stepped closer to Brianna's bed. "I'll leave you alone. I know it's been a trying day."

  She looked up from her phone. "Did you find anything?"

  "Not really," I lied. "I'll let my friend know about our last conversation when you told me about Cody losing his sweatshirt."

  "Thanks. I hope he's back soon. I'm sure they're going to realize they made a big mistake."

  "I think you're right. Take care and I'll see you later." My phone buzzed with a text as I walked out of the RV.

  "I'm at the entrance," Jackson texted.

  "I'll be right there."

  Chapter 30

  I saw Jackson's head above the crowd and picked up to a trot. His smile flashed white when he saw me hurrying through the maze of people.

  "I think I just found another piece of evidence," I blurted as I reached him.

  "Not exactly the kiss greeting I was visualizing but all right. Where is this piece of evidence?"

  I took a few deep breaths to catch up after my race toward the entrance. "I was looking through Cherise's personal space, it's tiny and there isn't much there except a bed and a few clothes," I added for no real purpose except that I was still stunned by the carnies' depressing living conditions.

  He crossed his arms and peered down at me with a raised brow. "And how did you manage to get into her personal space?"

  "Let's just say, I've got connections." I took his arm and we headed in the direction of the hot dog stand. "Besides, shouldn't your question be—how did the investigative team miss the note and money hidden behind the Titanic poster?"

  "I suppose that could have been my next question, only I knew nothing about a hidden note or a Titanic poster or anything else you're talking about."

  "In my perusal of Cherise's things, I stopped to admire a Titanic poster, you know the one with Leo and Kate on the ship, and I saw the corner of a piece of paper sticking out from behind the poster. I pulled it and a hundred dollar bill fell out. It was wrapped in a blank piece of paper, only the paper wasn't completely blank. There was a letterhead printed on it, a letterhead for Wright Electric."

  "Really? Huh, I'll have to let Officer Reed know. Where is it now?"

  "I stuck it right back behind the poster," I said. "I didn't think it was my place to take it."

  He chuckled. "Right, always following the rules."

  A cluster of helium balloons caught my eye. I squeezed his arm. "There's the queen and her entourage handing out balloons," I said excitedly.

  Jackson laughed. "Do you want me to get you a balloon?" he asked.

  "No, they scare Redford."

  "Oh, you sounded kind of thrilled to see the balloons, so I thought—"

  "No, it's not the balloons. It's a theory I'm working on that has to do with Queen Melinda."

  He stopped and looked at me. "What theory? What are you up to in that busy little head of yours, Bluebird?"

  I squeezed his arm to keep him moving toward the hot dogs. I was starting to feel hungry too. "It's still way too crazy of a theory and with more holes than Swiss, but when it comes together into a solid block of cheese, you'll be the first to know."

  "That's good. I think," he added. We reached the hot dog stand. I stayed back while he went up to order us food. I kept my eye on the cluster of balloons making its way through the crowd. Melinda was back in her cape and crown, but her smile looked particularly forced as she handed balloons to the kids. Her three friends stayed by her side like loyal courtiers. They were making their way toward the hot dog stand. Jackson was at the window waiting for our order. I took the opportunity to chat with the entourage.

  The first thing I did was glance at Melinda's left hand. Still no engagement ring. I smiled at the group. "I see the royal court has resumed," I said nicely, and got a round of smiles from the 'ladies in waiting' but not from the queen herself. "It looks like you were able to recover the queen's cape." I had to raise my voice to talk over the kids begging for balloons and the general noise of the carnival.

  Confusion crossed their faces but Melinda snapped to attention. Her crown tilted forward. She pushed it hastily back. "What do you mean my cape?" There was no missing the chill in her tone.

  "Oh, it's just when I saw all of you sitting by the stage, someone mentioned that you'd spent a half hour looking for it. I see now that you found it." I ended with a sweet smile. "Can't have a queen without her cape."

  Like other pompous queens before her, Melinda was 'not amused'. She moved forward with her cumbersome bouquet. I needed to get in one last question. I targeted the friend who was once again wearing the jean jacket that looked almost exactly like the one I wore to school my entire sophomore year.

  "Where did you eventually find the cape?" I asked her, before she walked past. Melinda was busy with her task and didn't hear me.

  It took the girl a second to remember, then she spurted a laugh. "That's right. Craziest thing but Melinda found it. We were going crazy and looking all over. She said it was just sitting on a bench near one of the rides." The group got ahead of her. She raced to catch up to them before I could ask her which ride.

  "Pickle relish and mustard, right?" Jackson said as I returned to the hot dog stand.

  "You know you're in a serious relationship when your partner remembers your hot dog toppings." I took the skinny paper boat that was dripping with mustard and relish. "Thanks. This whole finding evidence thing is making me hungry."

  Jackson looked back toward the cluster of balloons. "Was that all part of your evidence collection? Or were you just genuinely interested in balloons?"

  "Definitely evidence. Let's just say I'm filling in the holes." I took a bite but it wasn't easy to do while walking.

  Jackson agreed. "Let's go find a bench."

  I peeked sideways at him. He was focused on finding an empty, out of the way bench.

  "I'm waiting for the usual lecture about staying away from the murder investigation." I knew I was kicking the hornets' nest with my statement, but curiosity had beat out my common sense . . . yet again.

  Jackson motioned toward our dining bench. We turned that direction with our paper pockets of hot dog. "No lecture this time. You're too good at this. It would be crummy and unsupportive of me to stop you in your que
st to find the truth." His words were lifting my feet right off the ground, but before I could respond with a loving thank you, he stopped and turned to me. "As long as you promise, and I mean really promise, that you will let the police handle confronting the killer. No Christmastime replays. Understood?"

  I saluted. "Yes, sir. No more jumping into horse carriages."

  "Sunni," he said with an admonishing tone. "I'm serious."

  I nodded. "I know you are and trust me, I don't want a repeat of last Christmas either." We sat down with our food. "Except maybe the dramatic kiss part. That was something I could watch on replay over and over."

  "That can be arranged." He showed me his hot dog. "As you may or may not have noticed, I didn't order onions. I thought we'd take a ride on Lovers' Lane after this." He leaned forward and put his mouth close to my ear. "If the mood is right, I might even steal a kiss."

  "I suppose I'll let you do that, considering you sacrificed the onions and all."

  We were both hungry and made quick work of the hot dogs, then we headed in the direction of the rides. They were all in one section of the carnival. It almost didn't matter that I couldn't get out my last question about the cape. If Melinda had found it near the rides, no matter where in that area of the festivities, then she found her missing cape somewhere near the Lovers' Lane ride. Which means she found the cape near the very same trash can where the killer stashed Cody's blood splattered sweatshirt.

  I might have filled in one or two holes, but there were still too many questions that needed answers. I knew exactly what to do next.

  Chapter 31

  There was a good long line in front of the ride, mostly giggling teens who were trying to partner up with the right 'friend' for the romantic adventure, which, in teen language, meant a place in the dark and out of the watchful eye of adults.