Strolling Into Danger (A Seagrove Cozy Mystery Book 6)

by Leona Fox

  Sadie thought she saw his shadow on the ground between two trailers, but for such a big, bulky man he’d disappeared with surprising fluidity. She was left feeling uneasy and hurried to find Zack. She found him somewhere in the maze of motorhomes and trailers headed his way.

  “Have you seen the Strongman?” she asked.

  “Earlier, over near the office,” he said. “Why?”

  “After my conversation with Rupa,” she made the symbol for quotes with her fingers when she said the word conversation, “I heard Pabelin’s sister crying and I went to talk to her. She saw the Strongman watching us and slammed the door right in my face. Then, when I walked away he followed me.”

  “Why the air quotes around the word conversation?” he asked.

  “Because no real conversation should be punctuated by dishes being thrown to the floor,” Sadie said. “That’s why.”

  “And when did the Strongman stop following you?” he asked.

  “I got fed up with feeling scared and decided to confront him,” she said.

  “But he slipped away between two trailers before I even turned around. He was surprisingly ghost-like for such a muscled man.”

  “I had noticed he has the ability to appear and disappear with very little fanfare. He’s there and then he isn’t. But what’s funny is he doesn’t seem to want to speak to me. Not that that is unusual, many people are uncomfortable talking with the police, but usually they fade away and don’t turn up again. This guy keeps hanging around.”

  “He’s intimidating,” Sadie said. “But Roman has regular goons as bodyguards. Why is a circus performer acting like protection?”

  “Probably because he can,” Zack said.

  “He’s one of the few performers with that kind of bulk. Come on, let’s get out of here.” He took her hand and led her toward the big top.

  “Wait,” Sadie said, pulling back.

  “Didn’t you want to talk to Rupa?”

  “No,” he said. “You got me the answers I needed. I have no desire to get brained with a frying pan.”

  “So what do you think?” Sadie asked as they were driving back to downtown Seagrove.

  “Who killed Pabelin? Was it Maestro Street?”

  “I don’t think so,” Zack said. “As completely reprehensible as his behavior is, I don’t think he’s our murderer. There is no motive. At least not a believable one.”

  “So Winston then?” Sadie asked.

  “Winston? Oh, they call him Win. And yes I think probably so. Although Rupa is also on my short list.”

  “When I was talking to Pabelin’s sister, I didn’t have time to get her name, she said Pabelin insulted Maestro and that gives him motive, or that Winston – Win.” Sadie stopped dead remembering the woman dying in her arms.

  “It wasn’t when that she said, it was Win. She was trying to tell me Win did it.” She looked up into Zack's face blinking tears away.

  “Tell me again,” he said.

  “When Pabelin ran into me on the sidewalk, after she fell, she kept saying ‘when.’ I thought she was asking when something was going to happen. But I think I understand now. She wasn’t asking when, she was telling me Win. Winston. Winston killed her.”

  “Or she could have been trying to leave you a message for him,” Zack said. “We can’t jump to conclusions.”

  “But you think he did it, and I think he did it, and Pabelin pointed us in his direction,” Sadie said. “So how do we prove he did it?”

  “I don’t know,” Zack said. “We’re still missing vital evidence.”

  “You know,” Sadie drawled, “Lucy is very similar in stature to Pabelin. I bet with a black wig, fortune teller clothing and the right make-up we could pass her off as Pabelin from a distance.”

  “And what good would that do us?” Zack asked although Sadie could tell from his expression he had an inkling of what she was thinking of.

  “It’s been done a thousand times in the movies,” She said.

  “Bring the dead woman back to life and take the murder unawares. Say Winston is in the middle of his act and Pabelin appears below him. That could shake him into doing something stupid, like confessing. It works in the films.”

  “Yes, and aren’t movie cops lucky?” Zack said, a note of frustration in his voice.

  “It always works for them. If we show our hand, and it doesn’t produce the desired result, we are no worse off than when we started.”

  “But if he knows you are on to him the pressure could cause him to make a mistake,” Sadie said.

  “And we have to do something. The circus is set to leave town after the show tomorrow.”

  Zack pursed his lips and turned down Main Street, toward Sadie’s shop and home.

  “I don’t know. Let me think on it overnight.”

  “Don’t think too long,” Sadie said. “Or we’ll be out of time.”

  Zack pulled into a parking spot in front of Timeless Treasures.

  “I’m not coming in,” he said. “I need to get back to the station house.”

  “Okay.” Sadie leaned over and kissed him on the cheek before getting out of the truck.

  “I’ll see you later.”

  Zack nodded absent-mindedly and Sadie knew he was mulling over the options in his mind. She pushed the passenger door closed and went into her shop to see if Betty wanted to help her make a plan.

  “Of course I want to help,” Betty said, “And Lucy is next door getting coffee. I told her I didn’t know when you would be back and she offered to get us coffee to drink while we waited.”

  “Perfect,” Sadie said, “I’ll go next door and tell her I need a coffee, too.”

  “Don’t bother,” Lucy said entering the back room from the alley door and setting three mugs of coffee on the table along with a bag of pastry.

  “I anticipated your need.”

  “You are clairvoyant,” Sadie said happily taking a sip of coffee.

  “Not at all,” Lucy said. “I saw the chief pull up and you get out of the car. The look on your face said ‘I need coffee,’ plain as day.”

  “I’m glad you are here,” Sadie said to Lucy. “Because I’ve got a plan for catching the circus murderer and I need your help.”

  “What do you need me for?” Lucy asked.

  “And why not me?” Betty asked.

  “Oh I need you, too,” Sadie said, “But I knew you’d already be here. Sit down with me.”

  They sat at the table and Lucy rolled down the top of the bag of donuts and slid them into the middle of the table.

  “Do tell all,” she said.

  “We want to set a trap for the man we believe killed the fortune teller from the circus,” Sadie said. “And you, Lucy, get to play the starring role.”

  “You are casting me as the dead woman, aren’t you?” Lucy asked, a gleam in her eye.

  “I am,” Sadie said.

  “And Betty, we need you to help make Lucy look the part and then help me get her into the big top at the appropriate moment. Are you game?”

  “Of course we’re game,” Betty said around a mouth full of donut, “when do we start?”

  “The last performance is tomorrow night. That gives us roughly twenty-four hours to transform Lucy into a raven-haired beauty.”

  Sadie glanced at her star performer, who was currently a stunning blonde, and slid a photo of Pabelin across the table. Lucy glanced at it and handed it to Betty.

  “I can do this,” Betty said. “It’s classic Halloween make-up. I’ll need some tanner to darken her skin tone, but I think I have everything else I need.

  “How do you feel about dying your hair, Lucy?” Sadie asked. Lucy looked horrified.

  “I can’t even tell you how much time it took for my stylist to get my hair the exact color of Marlene Dietrich’s hair. Months of trial and error, to say nothing of the cost. Can’t we use a wig?” She looked at Sadie with puppy dog eyes.

  “A wig it is.” Sadie ripped a chunk from the bag, grabbed a pen from the
counter behind her and started a list.

  “I’ll have to see if Zack can get some clothes from the fortune teller’s tent. It would be best if Winston saw her in something he recognized.”

  “What do I have to do?” Lucy asked. “Haunt him?”

  “Pretty much,” Sadie said.

  “We’ll wait until he’s about to start his act – after he’s climbed up the center pole. Then we’ll hit you will a spotlight and you’ll call his name. We hope the shock of seeing you standing below him will goad him into action. Betty and I will be nearby to help keep you safe. And the officers.”

  “I can handle myself,” Lucy said. “I have a belt in judo.”

  “What color belt?” Betty asked winking at Sadie.

  “Are you a black belt?”

  “You know perfectly well I’m not a black belt,” Lucy said. “But I know enough to knock someone off their feet. Especially if they aren’t expecting me to know judo.”

  “With any luck you won’t need your judo,” Sadie said.

  “I don’t really want Win to get anywhere near you. I think it might be difficult to execute judo moves in full fortune teller gear.”

  “I’m bringing my handbag filled with rolls of coins,” Betty said. “It packs a pretty good wallop if I can get a bit of a swing going.”

  “Neither of you is to start wailing on circus people, do you hear me?” Sadie asked.

  “The chief is sending some officers in dressed as circus people and I don’t want you arrested for assaulting a cop. If you need to defend yourself, do it. Otherwise, let the cops do the apprehending.”

  “Point taken,” Betty said. “I have no desire to spend the night in the pokey.”

  “I don’t know,” Lucy said, “there are a couple of very handsome young officers on the night shift. I wouldn’t mind getting to know them a bit better.”

  “I doubt they’d be hanging around your cell,” Sadie said. “You’d do better baking some brownies and delivering those to the night shift.”

  “Oh, good idea. I’ll put that plan in place next Friday after we’ve finished with our plan for catching Pabelin’s murderer.” Lucy looked positively gleeful.

  “Is that excitement for catching Winston, or for taking brownies to the night shift?” Betty asked.

  “Both,” Lucy said.

  “My week just got a whole lot more interesting,” Lucy said.

  “Meanwhile,” Sadie said. “We need to gather our supplies. We need to be ready for tomorrow night.”

  They spent the first half of the circus hiding in the back of the fortune teller’s tent. Lucy looked remarkably like Pabelin. Betty used contouring make-up to make Lucy’s face look bonier, her lips were wider and her nose slightly hawk-like. Even Pabelin’s daughter did a double take when she entered the tent to get ready for her shift as the circus fortune teller.

  Pabelin’s daughter had known what they were doing, but that didn’t stop her from going white when she saw Lucy standing in the tent’s dressing area in her mother’s clothes. Sadie moved quickly to her side.

  “I’m sorry,” Sadie said, “We should have dressed Lucy somewhere else.” She led Alena to a chair.

  “This is Lucy,” she said. “She’s about the same build as your mother, but you can see the make-up on her face. We used it to make her look like your mother.”

  “See,” Lucy said pulling the wig back to show Alena her blond hair.

  “It’s a wig.” Alena nodded.

  “I’m fine,” she said. “It was just a surprise.” She got up.

  “I need to get ready for my shift.”

  She started flipping through the clothes on the rack and pulled out the brightest skirt and top combo, slipping the skirt over her leggings.

  Sadie, Betty, and the Pabelin-afied Lucy gathered in a corner to give Alena some privacy until she disappeared into the front of the tent and Pabelin’s sister came out. Her eyes were red-rimmed and she glared at the three women until they turned away once again. Lucy sighed when Pabelin’s sister left the tent and dropped onto the couch.

  “That was so awkward,” she said. “I didn’t realize how distressing dressing up like a dead woman was going to be. Next time I’m saying no.”

  “It’s almost over now,” Sadie said. “We just have to brave the big top for a few minutes and then we’ll turn you back into Lucy.”

  Officer Wilson, dressed as a clown, stuck her head in the back flap of the tent. “Time to go,” she said. “He’s climbing up to the trapeze now.”

  Betty flanked one side of Lucy and Sadie the other as they hurried her to the performance entrance of the big tent. Sadie looked in to see Winston on the platform above the center ring, the spotlight illuminating him as he bowed in all directions before grabbing his trapeze.

  The women hurried past circus security, who were actually members of the Seagrove police force, and into the center ring. Above them was the safety net, and above that Winston was swinging the trapeze, getting ready to fly over to another trapeze where another man was waiting to catch him. A microphone was shoved at Lucy and as she took it, Sadie noticed her hands were shaking. Winston let go of his trapeze, tucking into a flip as a flood light came on and illuminated Lucy.

  “Win, why did you kill me?” she asked in the husky voice and foreign accent that she’d spent the day before learning.

  Her words boomed through the PA system, distracting Win. He missed the catch, twisting in the air to catch sight of Lucy below him, his face registering shocked disbelief. He fell to the net.

  “Win,” Lucy repeated, “why?”

  In the shadows around the ring, Sadie could see officers moving into place, ready to nab Winston Felton when he came down from the net. He bounced gracefully and Sadie thought the showmanship was probably instinctive. He kept his eyes on Lucy the entire time.

  And her eyes followed him. Sadie wondered if Win could see the accusation from high on the net. She could see it and it gave her chills. Either Lucy was really getting into her role or she felt genuine outrage at this man.

  “Pabelin?”

  Sadie couldn’t hear the word from where she stood, but that was clearly what he said. He could not tear his eyes from her face. He flipped over the edge of the net and climbed down a rope ladder that Sadie hadn’t realized was there. He moved toward Lucy slowly and Sadie wondered when he would realize it wasn’t Pabelin.

  “Pabelin,” he said.

  “I’m so sorry. I would take it back if I could. I regretted the minute…” he stopped, confused.

  “I love you, I didn’t want to kill.” He stopped midsentence, the truth dawning on his face.

  “You are not her,” he said, slowly turning to see the ring of police officers dressed as circus folk closing around him.

  He sprinted for the nearest pole and went straight up. It was more scaffolding than pole, Sadie noticed, but even with that he went up at an amazing speed. A female officer tugged off her clown wig and shoes and went up after him. But he had reached the high wire stretched high above the rings and started across it toward the big entrance the animals would come through later in the performance.

  Sadie heard the loudspeaker and looked to see an officer had taken the microphone from Lucy.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said. “Please remain in your seats. The performance will resume shortly.”

  No one had moved as far as Sadie could see. It had all happened so fast. All eyes were on the man who was now halfway across the high wire. Perhaps they thought this was part of the show. But Sadie had trouble watching, there was no net over that side of the tent. If he fell…

  “Sadie!” Betty was trying to get her attention.

  “Help me get Lucy out of this costume.”

  Sadie turned to see Lucy yanking the layers of skirts down over Lucy’s legs, and ran to help her. She pulled the wig from Lucy’s golden head and pulled a plastic bag full of make-up remover cloths from her pocket to wipe Pabelin’s contours from her face.

  Betty b
undled the fortune teller clothes into a big black garbage bag, leaving Lucy standing in her T-shirt and sweats. Lucy kicked off the boots and Betty handed her the sneakers she’d carried in a tote bag. The transformation was complete. Win would have to look closely to see any traces of the woman he had loved and killed.

  “Look,” Lucy said and pointed to the far end of the big top where the aerialist was approaching the far pole.