Ruthie steals another fry off my untouched plate. “You could tell her how you feel. I’m a firm believer in honesty.”
Budge does a double take. “You told me you had a rare mouth disease for the first two weeks we dated so I wouldn’t kiss you.”
“I wasn’t exactly lying. I was adding to my mystique.”
“I had to call my doctor to make sure all my shots were updated.”
“Awww . . .” Ruthie throws her arms around Budge. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”
“Matt, maybe you should just tell her how you feel.”
He grabs a napkin and folds it over and over. “It’s not that easy.
I like Lindy a lot—but I don’t know. It’s kind of scary to think about committing to her in that way.” He tosses the napkin down on the table. “Never mind. You wouldn’t understand. All that stuff just comes easy to you.”
My eyes slide across the room to where Luke sits with his soccer buddies. And Ashley Timmons. “Right. I’m just a natural.”
I park by Ruthie’s motorcycle on the carnival grounds. I do an automatic scan of the lot just to make sure no escaped killer is skulking about. They seriously need to find Alfredo because I’m sick of having a twenty-four-hour-a-day case of the creeps.
“Hey.”
“Oh!” I jump and spin around. “You—you scared me.”
The new magician stares at me like he’s memorizing my face.
“Sorry. I guess you didn’t see me behind you.”
I look over the parking lot again. Just a second ago there was no one around. Where did he come from?
I nervously lick my lips. “I’m Bella.” And I’d give you my last name, but you look like the type who would Google me, find my house, and come over to show me your knife collection.
“I’m, uh, Jensen. Artie Jensen.” He angles his close-cropped head to the ground and speed walks right past me. “Have a good night.”
“You too.” Weirdo.
A few hours later I look out from the back curtain. The crowds are getting smaller and smaller every night. Soon the Fritz Family Carnival will be leaving, and if I don’t break this case, I’ll have nothing to show for it but a deep, abiding hate for honking clown noses and polka-dotted jumpsuits.
The performers meet in the center of the ring and take their final bows. The audience stands up and applauds as Red wishes them a happy evening and safe travel.
As I take off my wig and hang it on the hook, Luke steps into the changing area. “Bella, we need to talk.”
I glare him down in the mirror. “I think we’ve said enough.”
Ruthie sits down to pull off her giant clown shoes, not even hiding the fact that she’s listening to every word.
“You know we need to discuss this.”
“What are we discussing?” Ruthie asks. “I like discussions.”
“Go away, Luke.” I pull off my bow tie and place it in a plastic crate. “There’s nothing more to say. You said my writing sucks, and you put Ashley in my place.”
“Oh no, you didn’t!” Ruthie slaps her thigh and laughs. “That is some serious drama, boy.”
Luke shoots her a silencing glare. “I don’t want to fight with you, Bella.”
I pick up my purse and sling it over my shoulder. “Then I guess one of us should leave.” I sail past him and head out into the arena. God, why are boys so difficult? One minute I want to kiss him and tell him exactly how I feel, and the next I want to shove my rainbow wig up his nose and pull it out his ear.
I walk by Cherry, who stands below the trapeze, gazing upward.
“Hey, Bella.”
“You did great tonight. You’re just amazing up there . . . and the crowd loves you.”
Her eyes dim. “My family doesn’t.”
“Well . . .” I don’t know what to say. “Dolly’s crazy about you. You know she loves you.”
The smile returns. “And Mickey.”
“Is he spending a lot of time out at the house?”
Cherry unwraps her ponytail and shakes out her glossy hair.
“He’s there for dinner every night now. They’re still a little nervous around each other, but it’s kind of fun to watch.”
Lord, I do not want to be in my fifties and still not have this love business figured out.
“Still keeping the dog under wraps?”
She nods. “It’s our secret.”
“Cherry, um . . .” I check over my shoulder for anyone nearby.
“Stewart and Red have been going out late after almost every show and digging.” I check for any signs of recognition. All I see staring back at me is cluelessness.
“Digging for what?”
“I was hoping you’d know the answer to that.”
“No idea.”
“Did Betty ever mention them having to find anything? Maybe they buried something the last time they were here?”
She scans her memory bank. “No. But how do you know they’ve been searching for something?”
“We’ve been following them.” I catch sight of Luke across the way, sitting in the bleachers as if he’s waiting for me. I struggle to rein my thoughts back to this conversation. “And this week I found the map they’ve been using to search.”
Cherry drops her ponytail holder. “How? You didn’t break into their trailer again, did you?”
“I might’ve wandered in there . . . accidentally.”
Her fragile hand flutters to her chest. “Bella, Red’s never laid a hand on me, but I’ve seen it in his eyes. And I’ve seen him be less considerate to others—even his own son. You do not want to mess with him.”
A chill flitters up my spine. “We have to figure out what they want.”
“I thought you were solving Betty’s murder.”
“I think it’s connected.”
“Look out!” I hear Luke’s roar before he shoves Cherry out of the way, taking me with her. As we hit the ground, a row of lights crashes around us. Glass sprays everywhere as Luke plasters his body over mine.
“Cherry!” Through the fog in my head, I hear Dolly’s voice, distant and loud. “Cherry!”
The volume level rises as workers begin to follow the noise and congregate.
“Bella?” Luke lifts his head from my neck. “Bella, are you okay?”
I shove at his chest to push him off, but find there are two chests. Two Lukes. Two of everything. I lay my head back down.“I can’t even handle one of you.”
He rolls away and kneels beside me. “Can you hear me?”
“Of course I can.” I look up into his eyes so full of concern. “You’re always saving me.” I roll my eyes and feel pain spike my temple. “It drives me totally nuts.”
Luke’s laugh is brief. “Obviously you’re all right.” He holds out a hand, and I take it. He slowly pulls me to a seated position, and my vision aligns into focus.
“What in the heck happened here?” Red stabs an angry finger toward the dirt where a small row of lights rests in pieces. “You’ve been working on lights, boy. You want to explain this?”
Luke gives my hand a squeeze and stands up. “I don’t do rigging. Wouldn’t even know how.”
“It’s Betty’s ghost,” says Ziggy, one of the clown midgets. “We’re cursed.”
“We ain’t cursed!” Red shouts, throwing his hat to the ground.
“It was an accident is all. Accidents happen, for crying out loud!”
“The girls could’ve been killed.” Dolly wraps her arms around Cherry and aims her mama bear stare on Red. “I’m taking Cherry home.”
Red’s eyes glaze with anger. “I told you last night to bring her stuff back. She’s staying here.”
“No.” Dolly whispers something to Cherry, and with a nod, the girl walks away. “This is no place for her to live right now, and you know it. As long as you’re in Truman, she stays with me. And Red, if you want to fight me on this, you bring all you’ve got. If I got an attorney today, I know the first thing he�
��d tell the judge is how your niece almost got taken out by your equipment.”
Red’s eyes flutter and blink. “Now just a minute—she is my flesh and blood. You’re just a distant cousin.”
“Good night, Red.” Dolly turns to me on her way out. “You okay, Bella?”
“Yeah.” I feel my body tremble like I’m standing in the Denver snow. “Just another day on the job as a circus clown.” I can’t even work up a smile for my own lame joke.
Dolly shares a look with Luke. “Are you going to take her home?”
He nods once. “I’ll take care of her.”
Satisfied, Dolly heads toward the same exit Cherry used to make her escape.
“This ain’t over, Dolly!” Red calls. His head rotates as he catches all the onlookers. “What are you people staring at? Get a broom! Get a bucket! Get this mess out of here!”
“Come on.” With a hand under my arm, Luke guides me to my feet. “I’ll take you home.”
“I can drive.”
He breathes out a small laugh. “Your stepdad’s going to be proud of my body slam.”
I cough as my lungs expand back to their normal capacity. “He’ll have you fitted in a spandex onesie in no time.”
As Luke wraps his arm around me and pulls me close, I snuggle into the safety of his side and try not to think about the fact that I could’ve been a splatter on the ground. But he saved me. Thank you, Jesus. Omigosh, thank you, Jesus.
The night air hits my face, and I suck it through my nose like I’m trying to breathe away the last few minutes.
Luke stops three steps outside the big top, and before I know what he’s about, I’m flattened to his chest. “That scared the crap out of me.” He presses me to him, lowering his head on top of mine.
I pull my arms around him and rest my cheek to his pounding heart. “But I’m here. Because of you. Thank you.”
“Bella, we have to figure this out. I can’t take much more of this.” His hands caress my back, and I feel some of the trauma ease away.
“I know,” I sigh into his shirt. “And I’m glad to know you’re still interested in me.”
His hands still. He pulls away. “I was talking about Betty’s murder. And the map.”
“Oh.” Why don’t you just slam me on the ground again? It would be easier than this humiliation. “Totally. Me too.”
Luke quirks a brow and pulls my hair away from my twirling finger. “We should probably get your head checked. You took quite a hit.”
“I’m fine.” It’s my achy heart that needs the assistance.
He wraps an arm around me loosely like a brother. Any sizzle that had been there is gone. All the heat blown out like a cheap firecracker.
“Y’all have a good evening.”
Luke and I both turn as Artie Jensen throws a cigarette to the ground. He squashes it with his shoe.
“Good night.” Luke draws me a little closer and steers me toward the parking lot.
“Be careful out there,” Artie calls. “You might not get lucky a second time.”
chapter twenty-two
And that’s how a bill becomes a law. Isn’t that fascinating?” Robbie stares in eagerness at the faces around him. “Any questions?”
“Yeah.” I smoosh the chili around on my hotdog. “Will someone pass the relish?”
It’s an early dinner on this Saturday night before I go to work at the carnival. Since we’re celebrating another rare evening of Captain Iron Jack being home, Mom wanted to dine as a family. Robbie picked Weiner Palace.
“Here’s another round of root beers for everyone.” Budge bends over to fill our mugs, and a plume from his turban sticks into my dog.
“Budge—please.” I gesture to my plate. “You just got chili on your feathers.”
He shrugs it off. “That’s nothing. Yesterday I dropped it in the toilet.”
Okay. I’ll just skip the main course and move on to dessert. “Hey, is that Lars back there in the kitchen?” I catch sight of the giant man struggling with a bag of fries.
“Yeah, he started today. I guess the Dairy Barn caught him giving people double dips for the price of a single.”
“What a brave, brave man.” I don’t know if I’ve ever had this much respect for a person in all my life. “You know, people think it’s just ice cream, but to many of us, what he was doing was a ministry.”
Robbie takes a bite of hotdog and comes away with most of it on his mouth. “But Bella, that’s dishonest.”
“That’s what addictions do to a person, Robbie.” Budge flips me with a hand towel and swishes away in his genie pants.
Mom cuts into her hotdog with a knife like it’s prime rib. “I made an A on my philosophy quiz this week.”
“Honey, that’s great.” Jake gives her a loud smooch on the cheek.
“What classes are you taking for the summer term?”
She presses a napkin to her lips. “I told you I’m sitting out for a while.”
“But we talked about this, Jillian. I want you to keep going. You can’t stop now.”
“You’re right, we did talk about this. And the final word was that there was no way I could be a single parent three hundred days a year and go to school.” Mom’s voice lightens as she forces a smile for Robbie’s watchful eyes. “It will be fine. Plenty of time to hit the books.”
The tension is thicker than the Weiner Palace chili.
Mom turns her blue eyes to me and changes the subject. “Oh, Bella, I talked to your father. He said for you to be prepared for your bridesmaid dress fitting next weekend. Something about you and little Marisol having matching gowns.”
“Can’t wait. So Jake, how is wrestling going?” I never get to talk to the guy.
“It’s been a challenge, but I like it. Training and performing doesn’t leave a lot of time.”
“And providing commentary,” Mom adds.
“It’s crazy.” Jake’s eyes light up. “I never was that good at public speaking, but this commentary stuff is almost more fun than wrestling. Hey, I hear you guys are going to have a watch party for tomorrow night’s Sunday Night Smackdown.”
“Yeah, I guess Dolly’s having a big dinner at her house after the evening service at church. Mom’s the event planner and Dolly’s catering.” I put my drink down as Lars walks to our table. He lifts up a hand that could shield an entire town from rain and reads from a page he’s holding. “Would you like anything . . . ? Shoot. I can’t make out that last word. It got smudged with hotdog grease.” He scratches his head. “Now I don’t know what I’m supposed to ask you.”
I take sympathy on the man who was like the patron saint of ice cream. “I think you wanted to know if we wanted anything else.”
He drops his hand and considers this. “Okay. Sounds good. Well, do you?”
“We’re good here, thanks,” Jake says and returns to his discussion with Mom. Robbie just stares, his head cranked all the way back to take in the man who could’ve walked out of Jack and the Beanstalk.
“So, Lars, are you missing the carnival?” I ask.
He laughs, a deep belly chortle that nearly shakes the table. “Are you kidding? When I could have all this?” He gestures wide to the restaurant, and it pulls his already-short pouffy sleeves to his elbows.
“I was wondering . . . could you tell me about the night Cherry’s parents died?”
Lars winces. “That was a horrible night. Things have never been the same for the carnival.” He pulls up a chair and eases into it, the wood creaking in complaint. “It was a stormy night, so we had a smaller crowd. We were in Baton Rouge, stationed in a vacant Wal-Mart parking lot.V Red had only been with us a few years, and I remember he took to the center of the ring and announced Junior and Shelly Fritz. They were going to debut their new routine, the Praying Mantis. It was very risky, but those two”—he whistles and smiles—“they were good. Red had convinced them that this new trapeze act would put Fritz Family Carnival on the map. He said once word got out, people would be co
ming from miles around to see Mr. and Mrs. Fritz.”
“What happened that night?”
“The performance started out so flawless. People were on their feet to get a better look—that’s how good they were. Then—” He pauses.
“Yes?”
Lars closes his eyes as if he’s stepped back in time. “Just as they were about to do the big finale, lightning blew out the generator.
The electricity went out. Junior and Shelly both fell to their deaths.
No net.”
I replay the facts in my head. “Why wouldn’t they use a net? All trapeze artists do.”
He shrugs a round shoulder, sending the plumes on his hat to wiggling. “Our fiercest competition has always been an outfit called the Hickman Brothers Circus. They were doing a gig without a net—had some mighty fine aerialists—and were taking our customers. They were always a few steps ahead of us on the tour. So Red convinced Junior that going without a net was the only choice.”
“But they were professionals. Experts. Was there any sort of investigation?”
“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 and 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.
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