“Well, if I do, just step out of the way and keep walking,” she said, forcing a smile.
“It’s too hot out here for you. Come on. This is ridiculous.”
“Deuce, I’m not leaving,” she said, glaring at me. “I refuse to play the delicate pregnant woman here.”
“No one thinks you are.”
“Exactly. All the more reason for me not to play it.”
Her stubbornness could be incredible at times. “If you pass out, should I just put you on the float?”
“I’m not going to pass out.”
“I just want to be prepared. If you won’t go home, I feel like I need to be prepared for any possible scenario.”
We turned a corner and the judges’ tower near the fire station was in view. The cheers were getting louder as each float passed by and did its best to impress Mama and her gang on the tower. Everyone liked to play down the importance of the parade, but there was no mistaking it. Winning the parade was the crowning achievement of fair week, and allowed the winners to brag for a year. It mattered.
“Yes, just put me on the float,” Julianne said, then winced. “But not near the penises.”
“Cucumbers.”
“Whatever.”
I shook my head. If I saw anyone else looking the way she did, I would’ve called paramedics. Such an incredibly stubborn woman.
I moved away from her so I couldn’t choke her. I could see the C.A.K.E. people ahead of us scrambling to get in place for their pass at the judges. Something didn’t look right, though. They weren’t smiling or having fun.
They looked nervous.
I moved back next to Julianne. “Listen. Something may happen here in front of us.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Those weirdos in the neon shirts?”
I nodded. “I’m not sure what, but I think they’ve got something planned.”
“Like a dance or something?” she said. “They can’t hold up the line. Everyone will freak.”
“Not a dance,” I said. “But something else. And if it goes a little nuts, we’re leaving.”
“I already told you, I’m not . . .”
“Jules, I love you,” I said, taking her by the elbow. “But shut up. I’m done with the stubbornness for today. You look like hell and if anything goes weird up here, we’re leaving and you are going home and getting in bed and that is the end of that. I will throw your pregnant rear end over my shoulder and carry you out of here if I have to. So just stop. Got it?”
She stared at me, her mouth open, like she couldn’t believe I’d just told her to shut up. I was kind of pleased with the fact that I’d left her speechless. Of course, given the fact that she was nearly ten months’ pregnant, I knew there was no possibility of her catching me if I had to run from her.
She started to say something, but stopped, then shook her head.
“Thank you for not arguing,” I said.
“The only reason I’m not arguing is because I think I just had a contraction,” she said.
45
“Are you serious?” I asked.
“Don’t I look serious?” she said, her teeth clenched. “I’m covered in sweat and grabbing my stomach. Yes. I’m serious.”
“You’ve been grabbing your stomach and sweating since we got here.”
“I can still punch you.”
“I’ll get Carly,” I said. “We need to go.”
“You’ll do nothing,” she said, glaring at me. “I’m going to time them and we’re going to keep walking. I’m going to make sure this little beast is coming out for sure before I go anywhere. I don’t trust it. Would be just like this kid to try and fake me out. It’s a little liar. So we are gonna wait.”
“Jules.”
“Now it’s your turn to shut up,” she said, smiling at me. “And check your watch. I’ll let you know when the next one arrives. The only thing you’re gonna do is count.”
This was the problem with marrying a mule-stubborn woman.
I sighed and marked the time on my watch. The C.A.K.E. people were mobilizing in front of us as we approached the judges’ tower. Scarecrow was on the float standing next to the “Earth,” looking like he’d stolen something. Dorothy was walking next to the truck, her hand pressed to her ear. I squinted and could see a small Bluetooth receiver in her ear.
Odd.
Two other guys were on the float next to Scarecrow and they looked just as nervous. Other members of C.A.K.E. were flanking each side of the float, moving like they were the Secret Service, scanning the crowds on the sidewalk. I couldn’t tell if they were actually looking for something specific or if they were just keeping watch.
Their float began to slow as they approached the judges’ tower. I could see Mama up on the tower, under her umbrella, a clipboard on her lap, her expression hidden behind a large pair of sunglasses. Bruce was next to her, looking bored. Matilda was next to him, trying to smile and wave, but she didn’t seem too into it.
The C.A.K.E. truck stopped and I could see Dorothy’s lips moving, but she didn’t seem to be talking to anyone near her. Clearly, the Bluetooth was in her ear for a reason.
Scarecrow shuffled around the Earth and put his hands on the paper-mâché orb.
And then lifted off the top of the Earth.
“Oh, crap,” I said. “Here we go.”
“Number two,” Julianne said through gritted teeth and bent slightly at the waist. “That was like almost fifteen minutes, right? We’re totally fine.”
I glanced at my watch. “Yeah. Fourteen minutes.”
She took several quick breaths, then made an undistinguishable sound that was somewhere between a squeal and a grunt.
“No problem,” she said, her hand still resting on her stomach, but trying to straighten her posture. “I’m good.”
I moved my eyes back to the Earth. The top was now on the flatbed next to the planet and several more members of C.A.K.E. had popped out of it.
With thick firefighter hoses.
“This is what fracking feels like!” Dorothy suddenly yelled.
Matilda and Bruce looked confused, but Mama looked pissed that anyone had the nerve to do anything out of the ordinary at her parade. She leaned forward in her seat, mouth open, about to yell something at them.
And then she looked wet.
The Earth, in addition to containing people, was also filled with some sort of water container, because the hoses were spraying the judges. Long, heavy streams of water crashed all over Mama, Bruce, and Matilda.
And the C.A.K.E. members were now chanting “NO FRACKING!”
The crowd was screaming; people were running around, unsure as to whether this was part of the show or it was something they needed to be worried about.
And, off to the side, I saw Susan Blamunski sneaking down the sidewalk, trying to disappear in the chaos.
I knew it. I knew she had something to do with George’s death and I’d spooked her. There was no way I was letting her get away.
“Uh-oh,” Julianne said. “This isn’t good.”
“I told you something was happening. I can’t figure out how they filled that thing with water. There must be a tank of some sort.”
“No,” she said. “Not what I mean, Deuce.”
I looked at her. Her hand was still on her stomach, but her breathing had slowed and her jaw didn’t look like it was clenched shut. But she was standing in a large puddle of . . . something.
“My water just broke.”
And then it really got crazy.
46
“Your what just what?” I said amid the shouting and noise.
“Relax,” she said, leaning against our now stationary float. “My water broke. The beast is definitely coming.” She pumped a fist in the air. “Yes!”
I glanced away from her. Susan was making her way up the sidewalk, moving into the thicker part of the crowd, looking back over her shoulder. I didn’t want her to get away.
“We have some time?” I asked.
&
nbsp; “Yeah, we can finish the parade,” she said, then looked at the chaos in front of us. “If there is a rest of the parade.”
The C.A.K.E. protesters were still firing water at the judges and screaming, but people were realizing that it wasn’t part of the show and were starting to flow from the street to their truck to try and stop them. Mama, Bruce, and Matilda were trying to scramble down from their now soaked stage on the tower, but the hoses were making it difficult. Several men from the crowd were climbing aboard the C.A.K.E. truck and wrestling with Scarecrow and his cohorts. Dorothy was still screaming her brains out.
And Susan was getting away.
“I need to go get Susan,” I said.
“What?”
“I can’t explain now,” I said. “But she’s trying to escape.”
“From what?”
“I think she killed George! And she’s running!”
“Deuce, so help me, if you are chasing that woman and miss . . .”
“I won’t. I promise.”
“. . . I swear to the Lord, I will murder both you and Victor and I’ll tell this child that he or she was immaculately concepted.”
“Conceived.”
“Whatever! Now’s not the best time to correct my grammar, Deuce. Just promise you won’t miss the birth of your child.”
“I’ll be there. I promise. We’ve got time, right? You just said so!”
“Deuce, if you . . .”
“I’ll bet you,” I said, glancing toward the crowd. I could still see Susan, but she was about to round the corner toward the fairgrounds and I was going to lose her. “I’ll bet you I’ll be there.”
“Bet me what? And are you wagering on the birth of your child?? Right now??”
“I make it there in time, I get to name the baby,” I said. “I don’t, you get full naming power.”
She started to say something, but then thought about it. I think at that point she actually would’ve been glad for me to miss it.
“Full naming power?” she asked. “No arguments?”
“None. But if I get there, I get full naming rights.”
Her voice was drowned out by the roar of a motorcycle behind us.
Butch had pulled up, his helmet on, his sunglasses on, a stern expression on his face.
And a massive flag with George’s face on it mounted on the back of his bike.
“She’s running!” he yelled. “You need a lift?”
“What?”
“The Blamunski woman,” he said. “I heard part of your conversation. She’s running. You need a lift before she gets away?”
I looked at Julianne.
“I swear to God, you better be there,” she said. “Go.”
I kissed her cheek. “I will be. Full naming rights.”
I looked at Butch. “You got another bike that could get her to the hospital?”
Butch turned around, put his fingers to his lips, and ripped off an ear-piercing whistle. Two bikes immediately roared in behind him, both with the same George flag attached to the back of them.
“This woman needs a ride,” Butch yelled. “Take her wherever she tells you!”
Julianne’s forehead was in her hand.
I climbed on the back of Butch’s bike and shoved on an extra helmet he’d handed me. “I love you! I’ll be there!”
“I’m going to give your kid the worst name ever, Deuce Winters!” she yelled, shaking her head.
So I had some incentive to get to the hospital in time.
47
“You like the flags?” Butch called over his shoulder. “Told you it’d be good!”
My parents were near the judging platform when the chaos broke loose and my mother was already to the street by the time I realized I needed her. She assured me she had Carly and also assured me I would owe both her and my father an explanation when time allowed.
Butch and I were still snaking through the crowd on the street, the parade now at a complete standstill thanks to C.A.K.E.’s antics. I’d lost Susan while getting on the bike, but Butch said he had a bead on her and he was doing his darnedest to get us through the masses without flattening anyone.
I clutched the seat because I couldn’t bring myself to put my arms around Butch. “Yeah! Awesome!”
He nodded and hit the throttle and we jerked forward into a small opening in the crowd. If anyone thought it was odd that we were trying to get through, they didn’t show it. They were too caught up in the hosing down of the judges.
It took us several more minutes to get to the end of Main and I didn’t see her anywhere. “Where’d she go?”
“Toward the arena,” he said over his shoulder. “I saw her turn into the grounds.”
I nodded. It was an odd choice if she was trying to hide. The fair was nearly empty—because everyone was at the parade—and she’d be easy to spot. But maybe her car was parked on the other side of the grounds in the main lot. Maybe she was trying to cut through the fairgrounds to get to her car.
Butch jumped the sidewalk and we hit the dirt path that led to the entrance. He turned the throttle again and we shot through the gates, dust clouds blossoming around us. I moved my hands from the seat to him, trading vanity and ego for safety.
We roared around the exhibit buildings, past the food stand, and toward the arena. The main gate to the arena was open and Butch punched the throttle again and we rocketed through the entrance into the massive dirt arena.
The entire grandstand was empty, except for Susan, who was sitting in the first row. She didn’t run when she saw us, but she did look confused.
Which didn’t make any sense to me. Why had she tried to sneak away from the parade to go sit by herself in the stands?
Butch brought the bike to a halt near the steps to the grandstand, a final dust cloud swallowing us. I coughed and slid off the back.
“What’s going on?” Susan demanded.
“Why are you running?” I asked, climbing over the railing to where she was sitting.
“Running? What are you talking about?”
“I saw you take off in the chaos at the parade,” I said. “I didn’t think you’d ever leave the 4-H float. You were running away after our conversation.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You killed George, didn’t you?”
“I told you, I had an alibi.”
“But you didn’t tell me what it is. So why are you running?”
Her face screwed up with agitation. “I wasn’t running! I didn’t kill anyone!”
Her conviction weakened mine. “But you left the parade.”
“Because he told me to meet him here!” she bellowed.
“Who did?”
She pointed over my shoulder. “Butch!”
My stomach dropped and I turned around slowly.
Butch was resting against his motorcycle, aiming a gun at both of us.
48
“Butch, what the hell are you doing with a gun?” Susan asked.
“Taking care of loose ends,” he said, smiling.
“Loose ends? What?” She looked at me. “What’s he talking about?”
“I have no idea,” I admitted.
Butch just smiled.
“He called me fifteen minutes ago and told me to leave the parade,” Susan said. “He told me to meet him here and that it was an emergency.”
“You two know one another?” I asked.
Susan’s face flushed.
Butch grinned. “Oh, yeah. We absolutely do.”
I was still in the dark.
“We, um, well,” Susan stammered. “Butch and I . . .”
“I think the correct term is friends with benefits,” Butch said. “We sleep together. Excuse me. We sleep together when she isn’t pining for George.”
“I wasn’t pining for George.”
Butch rolled his eyes, but kept the gun steady.
My stomach churned. “How long were you seeing each other?”
“A few months,” Susan said. �
�We’ve been sorta off and on for a few months.”
“More off than on,” Butch said, shaking his head.
“Why the hell do you have a gun?” Susan demanded. “What is going on?”
“I think I have an idea,” I said, my mind working everything over.
They both looked at me.
“Butch killed George,” I said.
Susan gasped, but Butch stayed silent.
“No,” Susan said. “That can’t be true. You wouldn’t do that. Butch?”
Butch didn’t say anything.
“I was asking you about your alibi,” I said to Susan. “Back at the float. Did Butch call you after that conversation?”
She blinked several times. “Well, yeah.”
“Guess he overheard most of our conversation,” I said, glancing at him.
Butch shrugged.
“But that doesn’t make any sense,” Susan cried. “Butch was my alibi. I was with him the night before you found George in the freezer.”
“The entire night?”
She thought for a moment and then her face paled. “No.”
Butch’s mouth twitched at the corners.
“I broke up with him,” Susan said quietly. “I told Butch that I didn’t wanna see him anymore.”
“Because you were still pining for George,” Butch said, frowning.
“So we argued for most of the night,” she continued. “He didn’t want to break up. He wanted to keep seeing me. He was mad at me. But our relationship was . . . is . . . over. I thought I finally got that through to him. And then he finally left. It was early morning.” She nodded slowly. “It was sunrise. It had taken me the entire night to get him to leave. He didn’t want to go, but he finally did.”
The pieces of the puzzle were sliding together.
I looked at Butch. “You really don’t wanna make this worse for yourself.”
“That’s why I have the gun,” he said, grinning. “I’m no dummy. I’m going to make it easier for myself. So you don’t need to waste your breath and go all Law and Order on me.”
“Was it an accident?” I asked, trying to buy myself some time to think about how to get out of this mess.
Stay At Home Dad 03-Father Knows Death Page 15