Thrill Squeaker

by Christy Barritt

  “Do you wish you were single again, Chad? Do you miss the old days?”

  His head snapped toward me. “What? No. I wouldn’t change a thing, Gabby.”

  My lips formed an O. I’d made too many leaps. “I just thought—”

  “Yes, I’m stressed out. Yes, it’s hard at times. But the benefits way outweigh the negatives.”

  I swallowed hard, realizing my question had gone deeper than I thought. “They do?”

  He squinted. “You’re afraid of marriage, aren’t you?”

  I shrugged, wanting to deny it. “I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t have to. That’s why you keep putting off setting a wedding date.”

  I opened my mouth, about to argue. But I couldn’t. I’d blamed it on fear—and this was one kind of fear. But my issues went deeper than Scum’s assault and Riley’s traumatic brain injury. They went back to my childhood. “I’ve had a lot of bad things happen in my life.”

  “I know. So have I. Okay, maybe not quite as many as you. But life is full of bad things. And good things. I want to cling to the good while I still have time. We’re not promised tomorrow, you know.”

  “I know.” Life could slip away in the blink of an eye. I’d seen it happen.

  He straightened, distracted from his own problems by mine. For a moment, at least. “Look, Gabby. I’m not a biblical scholar—not by any stretch of the imagination. But I do seem to recall a verse about not worrying about tomorrow for tomorrow will worry about itself. I’m pretty sure that was a command, not a suggestion.”

  I stared at Chad, dumbfounded. How was it that someone who didn’t even go to church was able to realize that before me? He was right. I was worrying too much. I just needed to hold on to the good of today. Focusing on tomorrow had robbed me of the joy in the present.

  “Gabby, Riley loves you. I know he messed up. And I know your relationship has had more mountains and valleys than the Appalachians. But I also know that both of you love each other. I have no doubt that you’re meant to be together.”

  I swallowed hard, his words hitting me like a ton of bricks. “You really think so?”

  “I know so. Marriage is worth it, Gabby. So are relationships. And we don’t know what tomorrow has in store, so why waste time today? We’ve got to make the most of things, you know?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I do know. Thanks for the reminder. I’ve been focusing on everything that could go wrong. I need to focus on everything that’s right. Be more like Happy and less like Grumpy.”

  “Huh?”

  “Never mind. Just thanks. I didn’t realize you were so smart.”

  “You underestimate me.” He rolled his eyes.

  “You know, I actually came out here to cheer you up. Somehow the roles reversed.”

  “I’m a dad now. I need to get better with things like this. I’m going to have to talk through a lot of situations with Reef as he gets older, especially since he’s a mix of Sierra and me. I can only imagine the trouble he’ll get himself into.”

  I grinned. “He’s really lucky to have you both, you know.”

  “Thanks. I think we’re pretty lucky to have him.”

  “You ready to go face Nate?”

  Chad sighed. “I guess I have to listen to my own advice. There’s no time like the present.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  “I know how he can make it up to you,” Braxton said when Chad and I walked back into the cabin. He’d been sitting in a corner the whole time, processing the showdown. Whatever his solution was, he’d be sure to think it was the only way. That was Braxton for you. Chad knew better than to let the two of us work together. We butted heads too often.

  As everyone in the room riveted their attention toward him, my gaze found Riley. My heart filled with warmth. I needed to tell him that we should set a date. I didn’t want to put it off anymore.

  But now wasn’t the time or place.

  The room crackled with awkward silence as Nate slumped at the kitchen table alone.

  “How can Nate make this up to me?” Chad’s jaw flexed, and all of my earlier pep talk seemed to disappear.

  “Easy. You said he had a Corvette? He can sell it.”

  Everyone volleyed their heads toward Nate. He shifted uncomfortably, his gaze meeting each person’s. Finally, he nodded. “I guess I could do that.”

  “Then you can take the money from the scrap metal from some of these old rides,” Braxton continued. “It won’t be a lot, but every little bit helps.”

  Nate seemed to hesitantly nod. “Okay.”

  “Then you can sell the vintage arcade games. I bet investors would pay a pretty penny for them.” Braxton spoke as if he didn’t have a care in the world and as if he had everything figured out.

  Nate wobbled his head back and forth. “I suppose.”

  “He can also give us partial ownership of the park to make it up to us.” Braxton puckered his lips as he waited for Nate’s reaction. He didn’t have to wait long.

  “Partial ownership?” Nate barked. “That’s extreme.”

  “It’s either that or you can go to jail for fraud.” Braxton shrugged and flipped his hands up. This was one of his few good ideas.

  He’d obviously thought this through. I didn’t like the man, but I had to give him some credit here.

  “As long as the percentage isn’t too high.” Nate frowned, probably doing some quick mental calculations.

  “I don’t think you’re in a good place to get any sympathy right now,” Chad said. “You know if you don’t accept our terms, we’re going straight to the police—and your investors.”

  Nate raised his hands again. “Okay, okay. I get it. I was wrong, and I’m going to make it right.”

  “You’re going to make it right. Now.” Chad stared him down hard from across the room.

  He raised his hands in surrender. “I’ll get started on it right away.”

  “Does everyone here agree to these terms?” Chad asked.

  Everyone nodded. If we waited for Nate to pay us back on his own terms, we’d all remain broke.

  “The only one who isn’t here is Seamus,” Braxton said.

  I saw an opportunity and grabbed it. Just what was Seamus’s story? “Speaking of Seamus, I haven’t seen him in a couple of days.”

  Everyone else added their agreement.

  “So where is he?” I asked, glancing at Nate.

  “Beats me. He still has a couple of cabins to finish.”

  “You’re not concerned?” I asked Nate.

  “Seamus does his own thing. He’ll get the job done on his time schedule.”

  I shifted, not ready to drop this. “You’ve stayed on top of all of us—almost neurotically. Why not him?”

  A shadow crossed his gaze. “He’s my cousin, so there’s family dynamics to think about.”

  I shook my head as I processed the bomb he’d just dropped. “Your cousin?”

  He nodded. “Not by blood. My great uncle adopted him when he was fourteen.”

  “Why?”

  “His mom . . . she fell off the Ferris wheel. His dad was long gone. Seamus and my uncle never really got along, though. Their relationship was strained. My uncle tried to do the right thing by formally adopting him, but it wasn’t exactly a ‘happily ever after’ story.”

  “Why keep so many secrets, Nate? Why didn’t you just tell us that upfront?”

  “Our history is long and convoluted.”

  “As are many things with you . . .”

  Nate opened his mouth to say something when his radio buzzed. It was one of the plumbers he’d left at the old management office. Apparently, there was a water leak there, and they needed back up.

  However, I wasn’t done with this conversation. Either Seamus had abandoned this project—that would make him wise—or something had happened to him.

  I supposed there was a third option: Seamus was behind the incidents, and he’d hidden himself away to escape detection. He had the perfect motive.r />
  But then again, so did everyone else.

  * * *

  Despite everything that had happened, I still wanted to hear from some of the locals about their memories of this place. That was why I headed to Yuck Yuck’s, even after the showdown with Nate the Not-So-Great.

  Nate had stayed behind to start “making things right” while the rest of the crew headed to the Area 51 cabins to help with cleanup. Everyone had been a bit begrudging, but Chad had given a pep talk about seeing things through to completion—and he’d reminded everyone that Riley was a lawyer and could slap a lawsuit on Nate if worse came to worst.

  I brought the pictures Clarice had found with me to Yuck Yuck’s, purchased pizzas and pitchers of soda for anyone who was there, and spread the photos out on over two tables. In the background, a local cover band played folksy tunes using a guitar, bucket drums, and car keys. They actually didn’t sound as bad as I’d thought they would as they crooned, “Yesterday Once More” by The Carpenters.

  I stood close as locals stopped to reminisce, pointing out familiar faces in the snapshots. They recalled the good times and got far-off looks in their eyes as they remembered those who passed.

  Amidst the smell of greasy mozzarella and crusty bread, I asked questions and drew out more recollections. The people who stopped by were mostly blue-collar workers. Many had worked the mines before they shut down. Several were still struggling to find work. But Mythical Falls brought back happier memories.

  “Everyone knows Nate is terrible at finance,” one man said, picking up an old photo.

  The man’s name was Alan, if I remembered correctly, and he’d been on the crew with Seamus. He was in his sixties, with thinning hair that had been greased with some kind of gel. The lines on his face made him appear like someone who’d worked in the sun and smoked too many cigarettes. But his voice was soft and kind, as were his eyes.

  He’d said Nate was terrible at finance, but he didn’t even know the half of it. Not yet, at least. Despite what I already knew, I wanted to hear this man’s opinion. I leaned closer and lowered my voice. “What do you mean?”

  “He’s almost as bad as his dad,” the man continued, still holding one of the pictures as he stood by my table. “His dad lost money for some people here in this town. He’s the reason Mythical Falls shut down in the first place. People think it was the murders, but those in the know realize the truth.”

  At the man’s statement, I set my pizza back onto a plate. I needed to give my full attention to this man. “I’m not following you. How did Nate’s dad shut down the whole place?”

  “Nate’s uncle—his name was Jebidiah—owned the theme park. He trusted Nate’s father, Leo, to run the finances. Leo did a terrible job and, as a result, Jebidiah had to lay off people. Apparently, Leo had invested some of the company’s profits, but he invested poorly and lost almost all of it.”

  “That’s interesting.” Like father like son.

  The man put the picture back down on the table and grabbed his own piece of pizza. He raised it in the air as he spoke. “There’s this steadfast loyalty in the Reynolds family, where they refuse to speak poorly of each other. That’s why that whole fiasco has stayed relatively quiet. But part of me thinks that Nate wants to do his uncle proud and make things right. That’s why he would never sell it to Scotty Stephens, despite all the money he’s offered.”

  “Well . . . that’s good, right? I mean, staying loyal to family and everything.” I paused. “How do you know all of this?”

  “My mother was friends with Jebidiah’s wife, so she knew some of what was going on. My father also did magic tricks at Mythical Falls. He refused to call himself a magician because he had no formal training. Anyway, all the acts were the first ones to get let go. Boy, were some of them angry. They’d staked their livelihood on working there.”

  “Your dad was one of the magicians? I was wondering if the acts were all local or from outside of this area.”

  He picked up a photo of a man standing on a small stage wearing a Houdini hat and holding a magic wand. “Here he is. You’d be surprised at some of the acts still in town. The Brunkes are trying to get people together for a reunion when Mythical Falls reopens.”

  “So I heard.”

  “Jebidiah hired local whenever possible. People around here needed the jobs. Needed the money. Mythical Falls was one of the best things that could have happened to us.”

  “But what about the murders? Who do you think was responsible?” The man seemed like a wealth of information, so I wanted to keep him talking.

  “I personally think it was someone who wanted to ruin Jebidiah Reynolds and his family. They got threats all the time after they began doing layoffs.”

  “Then why kill Henry if Jebidiah was the one people were angry with?”

  “Jeb was young—probably your age. I personally think it was a mistake. Henry and Jebidiah looked an awful lot alike from behind.”

  “Did you know Henry?”

  Alan’s eyes welled with tears. “There’s one other thing you should know. Henry was my son.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  I stared at the man. “Henry was your son? Really? I’m so sorry.”

  He nodded. “It’s hard to believe it’s been twenty years since he’s been gone.”

  “I can’t imagine what you went through.” At least he didn’t seem overly bitter now. A lot of people would be. Grief could be slow to die.

  “It was hard.” His voice wavered and he looked away.

  I realized that earlier he’d been talking about inconsequential things in order to avoid talking about Henry. My heart panged with sympathy.

  I softened my voice, hoping I wasn’t being insensitive. “I know this is none of my business, but I heard there was a ten thousand dollar deposit in his account before he passed away. Do you have any idea where that money came from?”

  “He got a signing bonus when he agreed to work for Harrison and Buhler after he graduated.”

  “Come again?”

  Alan nodded. “He was an engineering major—top of his class. He was offered a job before he graduated, complete with a ten thousand dollar signing bonus. That’s where the money came from. Why?”

  I shook my head. “A few people assumed he was paid off.”

  “That’s the hard part about small-town living. People assume a lot of things based on rumors.”

  “He was dating Debby, right?”

  The man actually rolled his eyes. “They went out once. You ask me, she was just milking the situation to get as much attention as she could. She always had her sights set on anyone who was wealthy. That was not my son.”

  “But why would he have been killed?”

  “It’s like I said: I think someone who hated Jebidiah accidentally killed Henry.”

  “Do you have any idea what your son was doing there that night?”

  He sighed. “The only thing I can think of is that he was a relic hunter. He’d go out and search for hours for old keepsakes from the Civil War. He was especially fascinated with the area near the Pharaoh’s Tomb.”

  “Thank you so much for sharing, Alan. I know this wasn’t easy.”

  “I still want to see his killer caught.”

  “I’d love to help you with that.”

  Before I had time to question him anymore, the front door opened. All the air seemed to leave the room as Nate walked inside.

  A woman stood and glared at him. “I just got your email. Is it true? Did you really blow all of our money?”

  His arms stiffened. “That’s why I’m here. I want to apologize to everyone in person.”

  Like a riot, almost everyone rose up and began waving their hands and talking all at once.

  Normally, I might feel inclined to help. But Nate had gotten himself into this mess, so he needed to handle it himself.

  I gathered my pictures and slipped out, realizing I wouldn’t be able to get people’s focus back now.

  But, at least, I had left wi
th something.

  * * *

  I climbed into Riley’s car and let out a sigh. What was I missing? What was the connection between these murders? It was there—I felt certain. I just had to put my finger on it.

  As I jammed my keys into the ignition, a voice sounded from the backseat. My heart rate ratcheted up higher than the first drop on the Vomit Comet.

  “I was hoping to catch a moment alone with you,” someone said.

  I craned my neck and spotted a man who looked like an older version of Scotty Stephens Junior in the backseat. I started to reach for my gun but stopped myself. “What are you doing here?”

  “I couldn’t risk being spotted in town.” He remained low, as if he didn’t want anyone to see him.

  “Why not?” Even as I spoke, I thought through my options in case something went wrong. Best case: honk my horn and run. Worst case: use my gun.

  He frowned. “Bad facelift.”

  I squinted, trying to get a better look at him in the darkness. Now that he mentioned it, his face did look a little . . . unnaturally tight, and his eyes drifted upward on the corners.

  “Why’d you want to talk to me?” I asked.

  “You think I’m guilty of killing Caleb Kidwell.”

  “Your daughter-in-law said you wanted to strip-mine the land where Mythical Falls is located.”

  “What? Me? No. That’s Junior’s plan if he ever gets his hold on my money. That’s when I knew I needed to get the property first. That way, when Nate ruins this and is out of money, he won’t feel desperate enough to sell to Junior.”

  “What?” It was my turn to sound surprised.

  “The coal market has dried up. It’s not as profitable as it once was. Besides, strip mining is viewed by many as despicable.”

  “So you really want to open a retirement village?”

  “Initially, yes. No more.”

  “So why are you willing to pay millions for the land?”

  “I’m getting older. I want to leave a legacy beyond the heartbreak I caused when I closed the mines. Do you have any idea how despised I am in town?”