“She went off that way.” Jamie points behind our back.
“She?” someone else calls through the veil of smoke. A crowd has begun to form.
Out of it, Cherry my assistant from the planning committee, appears next, blinking through the smoke. “But the knife-thrower I hired was a man,” she says.
I knew it!
Chapter 16
“Whatever’s happened here, you’d better go clear the grounds,” Jamie says, looking at me.
“Right,” I say, rising to my feet, a million questions running through my head—what’s he doing here, and why didn’t Jeremy tell me, but there’s not time for that. “You’ll look after him then?” I ask, glancing down at Jeremy, still lying lifeless on the ground.
“Of course,” Jamie says. “Now go quickly.”
I nod and launch to my feet. “Wayne! Donny! Go secure the premises. Cordon off that crime scene and get those people out of that tent!” I call back to them over my shoulder, already running. “And don’t let anyone touch the body!”
“Wait! I’m coming with you.” Cousin Viv flies after me. “No, please. Stay with Jeremy.” I flash her a look of warning, hoping she’ll read my mind. “In case, you know, anything else happens.” I emphasize the last of my words, imploring with my eyes for her to understand what I mean—underneath what I’m really saying.
“Oh, yes, right.” She clues in, scrambling backward, as I push on for the mainstage where I come up with a megaphone. “Everyone, please. There’s been an incident!” I shout, over the howls and shrieks of the scrambling crowd. “Your attention, please!” I shout even louder. “I need you to remain calm. Everyone, please, exit the grounds through the nearest gates, as quickly and orderly as possible. We are going to have to shut down the fair!”
“What?” a voice calls out as the crowd lets out a fresh round of shrieks.
I stand, middle stage, pointing to the exits, where I’m accosted by Mrs. Dumfries.
“But you can’t do that. I was just about to win!” She appears in front of me, wide-eyed and frantic. “The pie-eating contest is up next.” She snatches the megaphone out of my hands.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Dumfries, but there’s been a murder!” I snag the megaphone back, shaking.
Chapter 17
“The ex-Supreme Leader, was it him? The man in the black bowler hat?” Cousin Viv shouts to me as I come rushing back into the magic tent after making sure the grounds have all been cleared of patrons. No one remains at the fair but myself, Wayne, and Donny my two security hounds—my two aunts, Kit and Kat, and Cousin Viv, and of course, a shaken and stunned-looking Uncle Harold, still standing mid-stage, in the bright red cloak.
“No,” I huff, coming to a breathless stop in front of them. “It appears I was wrong about that.” I look up at them on stage. “Whoever that was.” I pinch the stitch from my side.
“And you don’t think that was him?” Cousin Viv dithers. “The knife-thrower, I mean. You don’t think it could have been the ex-Supreme leader in disguise?”
“If it was, he’s definitely been getting assistance.” Cousin Viv bites her lip as I speak. “He’d never be able to conjure enough power to do what he did,” I say. “But I really don’t think it was him.” I look back at the tent flap. “I have a hunch it’s someone altogether different.”
“So now we have two problems. Two enemies on the loose.” Cousin Viv twists her hands.
“Well, we’ve always thought that, haven’t we?” I turn back.
“So, you’re thinking it was a Druen then?” Aunt Kat asks.
“Maybe. But it still doesn’t make sense.” I run a worried look over all of them. “Why take out the assistant, or Uncle Harold, and not me? I was right there for the taking.”
“She does make a good point there.” Aunt Kit nods to Aunt Kat.
“So, who could it have been then?” Aunt Kat shivers.
“Well, I can tell you one thing, it certainly wasn’t me,” Uncle Harold snivels, his voice croaking. “Although, everyone in the crowd was certainly convinced it was.” He gulps down his nerves, then bites his knuckle.
“Calm down, Uncle. It’s going to be okay,” Cousin Viv says. “We all know you haven’t done this.” She rubs his back.
“Yes. But can you prove it?” His voice becomes a squeak.
“Leave that to me,” I say.
“In that case, you’d better tell her what you told us.” Aunt Kat swoops closer to him. “Go on, explain to her what happened backstage, exactly the way you told us.”
I turn to my uncle, who heaves in a big breath. “Well, first of all, that’s not how the trick was supposed to go, obviously.” He glances over at the poor assistant still pegged to the spinning wheel and winces. “As you recall, I was brought up on stage and lead over here, to this marked position.” His voice cracks as he points to single X on the floor.
A single X and a double X. I glance between the two markings now. Just stage marks. Not at all what I thought the one was, during the performance. I guess that rules out a Druen attack.
“There, I was strapped to the Spinning Wheel of Death,” he continues. “Then the knife-thrower’s lovely assistant spun me, hard—right before the gun powder explosion. Which, by the way, was part of the act, according to the assistant, who let me in on the gag. Things were going well until then. The explosion was supposed to blind everyone in the crowd from seeing what was going to happen next.”
“What was supposed to happen next?” I ask, scowling.
“Well, certainly not what did.” Uncle Harold shivers, turning his eyes again away from the dead assistant. “You see, what you and the rest of the audience didn’t know, and nor did I, until the poor, poor assistant whispered it in my ear, was that there was a trap door beneath the spinning wheel. It was to spring open and the wheel to be lower below the stage, into the basement, behind the veil of smoke, where the rest of the trick would take place, unseen and undetected by anyone in the crowd.”
Well, the rest might not have known about the trap doors and beneath the stage, but I knew. Just not exactly how they were going to be use for this trick.
“Once the wheel was safely lowered to the basement level, with me still strapped on it, the knife-thrower’s assistant, stopped it, released me, and exchanged myself for her.”
“What?”
“It was an old bait and switch trick. She strapped herself to the wheel, instead of me, then asked me to spin her. But not before she activated a small lever at her fingertips, which triggered a set of fake knives that sprung out from the inside of the board all around her, looking like the knife-thrower had completed the trick—and terrifying me half to death by the way. She was then to yank on a chain, and elevate herself and the wheel back up to stage level, as I raced the length of the basement through the darkness, as instructed, where I found the red cloak, as she said I would, lying on a chair, next to a second platform. I was to don the cloak, and board the platform, yank the chain, and be raised back to stage level myself, through the second set of trap doors.
The whole idea was for it to look like the knife-thrower and I had magically switched places. With the last part of the trick being the big double reveal. When the lights came back up, I was to throw back my hood, revealing myself as the real knife-thrower, shocking the crowd, while the real knife-thrower stayed hidden backstage somewhere, only to reveal herself seconds later, in the final surprise, by walking out and joining me. Thus, giving up the full trick.”
“Well, they were certainly shocked all right,” Cousin Viv mutters.
“Yes, yes, I know.” My uncle hangs his head. “I still can’t believe what happened,” he snivels. “The assistant assured me the knife-thrower knew all about the intricacies of the trick, and how it was to go. But clearly she didn’t.”
“Clearly,” Cousin Viv mumbles.
“Or she did,” I say, turning and pacing. “And took total advantage of it.”
They both stare at me. “Where was the knife-thrower
when all this was happening?” I turn to Uncle.
He thinks, shakes his head. “I dunno. Waiting backstage maybe?” he offers, shrugging. “I wasn’t told where she would be. It wasn’t discussed. Only that she would appear again on stage, at the end of the trick.”
“So, she could have been anywhere essentially.” I tap my bottom lip, turn and continue pacing.
“But why kill your own assistant? It doesn’t make sense,” Cousin Viv says.
“Good question,” I say. The million dollar one, I suspect.” I stop. “Especially since, according to Cherry, the act we booked was to feature a male knife-thrower, not a female? So who was she? His opening act? A last-minute replacement? A man dressed in drag?”
“The poor dear probably didn’t even know what had hit her it was so dark down there.” Uncle Harold sniffs and dabs his eyes, glancing over at the body again.
“There, there, Uncle Harold.” Aunt Kat steps in, rubbing his back, as Aunt Kit offers him a tissue from her sleeve.
“So…when you left her in the basement, she was strapped to the wheel and spinning, right?” A voice asks from the back of the tent.
All our heads jerk that way. Including mine.
“And you were told to leave her and make your way across the basement.”
“That’s right.” My uncle reflexively answers.
“She had deployed the fake knives and was about to pull the chain, is that right?” the voice asks. I strain to see who it is but cannot, it’s too dark.
“To my knowledge, that’s correct, yes.” My uncle strains to see as well.
I peer hard up the aisle, toward the entrance to the tent. The flap has moved, and someone has entered. Slivers of moonlight pour in from the midway, outlining the figure of a man. My breath hitches and I throw out an arm, instinctively protecting my uncle.
“So the last you saw of her, you’re sure she was still alive?” the figure asks, walking up the aisleway.
“Yes. And very much alive,” Uncle Harold insists, thrusting up his chin. “And who are you to be asking me that?”
At last the figure emerges from the shadows. “Jamie Wilkes,” he answers, his face lit now by the dim upstage lighting. “Jeremy’s twin brother.” He half-smiles.
I fall back on my heels and I let go of my breath I was holding, relieved to see it’s only him.
“What are you doing here?” I rush toward the edge of the stage, addressing him. “I thought you’d gone up to the hospital with your brother?”
“I had. But the doctor told me there wasn’t anything I could do but sit around and wait for him to wake up, so I thought I might be of more use here.”
Wake up?
“How is your brother, anyway?” Cousin Viv asks before I have the chance to. “He gave me quite a fright out there in the midway.” She clutches her chest and breathes heavily.
“He’s all right, I guess. If you call being back in a coma all right.”
“A coma?” I gasp, clutching my own chest now. Thus, the need to wake up, I see.
“Thought at the moment, I’m told he’s holding his own.” Jamie lowers his chin, as if speaking to his feet. “He’s in serious but stable condition they say.”
“Oh my.” Aunt Kat flaps her hands.
“The poor, poor dear,” Aunt Kit trills, reaching for another tissue.
“That’s just terrible news,” I say, inside a quivering breath.
“Yes, terrible,” Jamie agrees, glancing at me, then pulling a worried hand through his hair. He lets out a shattered breath and I feel for him. And Jeremy. “All we can do now is try to figure out who did this, I guess.” He lifts his eyes from the floor. I can’t help but notice there’s a glimmer of tears settled along their rims, and I tear up myself.
He swallows hard, then turns his attention back to my uncle, his gaze growing small and intense now. “You said you raced to the other end of the dark corridor, donned the red cloak, as instructed, and rode the second platform back up to stage level.”
“Yes. That’s correct,” my uncle says.
“And during all that time, you saw no one else down there in the basement with you. Just you and the assistant?”
“Correct again.” My uncle nods.
I frown. “Excuse me, but just who are you to be asking him all these questions?” I scowl, stepping forward. I’ve kind of had enough. I think my uncle already asked that question and he evaded it. But he won’t be evading me. “I mean, you can’t just come waltzing in here and act like you’re carrying on an investigation.” Only I can do that. I sigh. “There’s protocol to be followed, you know.”
“Oh, I know.” He grins at me, smartly.
“Which by the way, I should inform you, will be carried out by the neighboring sheriff’s department, which I’ve already contacted.” I smile. “Since our sheriff is currently out of commission, I’ve called the authorities up in Coal City to help us out with a proper investigation.” I place my hands on my hips and glare. “I’ve been told they’ll be sending someone right away.”
“Well, lucky for you, he’s already here.”
“What?”
Jamie smiles, rather cheekily, I must say, and reaches into his back jeans pocket, producing both a little black notebook and a tin badge. “I’m it. The authorities. Your proper investigator,” he says, flashing his badge my way.
“But—” I squint. “That’s not possible. Your brother told me you were a forensic specialist, working up at the lab in Coal City.”
“I am.” He nods. “But I’m also the newly-elected marshal ’round these parts, as of last week. Overseeing all of Hexington county,” he announces proudly, throwing out an arm.
Smart-arse.
“I mean, I haven’t received the formal paperwork yet, but I’m told it’s coming. Rest assured though, I did win by a landslide, or I wouldn’t have this.” He flashes his badge again.
Modest too, I see.
He stuffs the badge back in his pocket, then stares at me again. “I’d come to the fair tonight, not only to accompany my poor, freshly-released-from-the-hospital brother, but to share the good news with him,” he tells me. “Which, I’d planned to celebrate over a beer. But alas, we never got that far.” He looks at me in a way like somehow it’s my fault. The tiny hairs on my arms rise.
“Since my brother, the sheriff, is laid up in hospital again,” he glances my way and back, “and Hex Falls has no deputy sheriff, you’re right, that leaves the next logical lawman to step in on the case, which is the sheriff up in Coal City. But I’m here to tell you, it just so happens he’s gone fishing somewhere up North in remote location and—”
“Let me guess, can’t be reached,” I say.
“You got it.” He smiles in my direction.
What is wrong with these country folk? Last month it was the doctor that went A.W.O.L., off on some archeological dig for over a month. Don’t they understand, small town or not, things go on here that need immediate attention? My inner voice shrieks.
“So, when you made the call, I was the one who got it.” He glances me with a cheeky grin. “I’m covering for the sheriff while he’s gone fishing. This’ll be my first official duty as the new marshal.” He flicks his brows up then down. “Tough one,” he adds.
Oh, gods… I feel all the air seeping from my lungs.
The room feels like it’s just shrunk in size. Considerably.
“Now, if you don’t mind,” he shoots me a stern look. “I’d like to get back to my investigation.” He glances toward my uncle, then back at me, rather curtly, then proceeds with his questioning. “So, you mentioned it was very dark down there, in the basement.”
“Oh, y-yes,” Uncle stammers. “It was dark. Very dark. Pitch, really.”
I slide back into the shadow, as Jamie makes a note of that, and goes on asking more questions. “And, did you know the assistant, before coming here?” He pauses and looks up a note in his phone “Gloria Glassman, her name was?”
My uncle gasps and grabs
his chest at the sound of her name. “Heavens, no,” he’s quick to say. “I never saw the woman before in my life. And trust me, that’s something to be said for me.”
His sister kicks his shin.
“You’re sure?” Jamie presses.
“He’s already answered that,” I blurt.
“I’d like to hear it from him, if you don’t mind?” Jamie tosses me a tight smile.
“She’s right. Yes, I’m sure. I’ve never seen her,” Uncle Harold answers, sounding rattled now.
“So…” Jamie says, stroking his beard, in exactly the same way Jeremy does whenever he’s thinking. It’s uncanny how these brothers are alike. “We have two people downstairs who think they’re doing one trick, while someone upstairs is pulling off quite another.”
“You can’t be sure of that. You don’t know what she knew,” I interrupt, my eyes flashing.
“And neither can you.” He stares back, in a way that also says, please shut up.
He turns back to Uncle Harold. “Can you think of any reason why knife-thrower might want her assistant dead?”
Uncle Harold blusters. “Well, how should I know? I was only the volunteer, remember?”
“Yet for some reason, you were the one she specifically selected. Out of the whole crowd.” He draws out an arm.
What’s that supposed to mean? What is he getting at?
“Do you know of any reason for that?” Jamie turns laser eyes on him.
“Just what are you implying?” I step in between them.
“Miss Vance, is it? I’m sorry, but if you don’t stop interrupting, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave!”
“Leave?” I snort. “I’ll be going nowhere.” I cross my arms.
“Well, it would be pity for me to have to put you out. My brother tells me you’re pretty good at these things.”
I stare back at him. “What things?”
“Unravelling puzzles of the murderous nature.” He tosses me a bold look, then returns to questioning my uncle, my heart beating hard in my chest. “You’re absolutely sure those were the exact instructions you were given to follow?”
Abracastabra (Hex Falls Paranormal Cozy Mystery # 4) (Hex Falls Paranormal Cozy Mystery Series) Page 10