Sinful Suspense Box Set

by Oliver, Tess

  Gideon glanced in the mirror again. “That toad is still behind us. You sure you want to meet Walter with him right there. Even if he is on Griggs’s payroll, don’t think Walter will appreciate us dragging along a tail.”

  “I’m sure he wouldn’t, but I’m not meeting Walter.”

  He shrugged. “You’re the boss.”

  “Yep.”

  He shot me a shifty, sideways glance. “Even if I could pound you into the ground like a nail in a pile of sand.”

  “Yep.”

  “So, what was the conversation about?” Gideon asked.

  “It seems, working with Griggs is leaving a bad taste in the mouth of the illustrious Mr. Albert. He wants to cut Griggs out of the deal.”

  “Shit, a fight with Griggs would make our little spar with the Denton brothers look like a day at the carnival.”

  “That’s what I told Albert, just not in so many words. It would mean more money, but we wouldn’t be alive to enjoy it.”

  “Speaking of carnivals, have you talked to Charli?” he asked.

  I flicked my ashes out the window. “We’ve both been busy. But I’m thinking of heading over there later to talk to her.” It had been four days since our first date, and I hadn’t stopped thinking about Charli. I kept reminding myself not to get attached because she’d be leaving again, but it hadn’t been easy. She wasn’t the kind of girl you just pushed out of your head when she wasn’t around. No such thing as out of sight, out of mind when it came to Charli. “What about you? Have you talked to Rose?”

  “I went to watch her show one more time.”

  “I’ll bet you did. Your little thing for her has put a curve on my enthusiasm for the burlesque show. I figured you wouldn’t be all that pleased if I went. Like you said, you could pound me like a nail in sand.”

  “See, you are the smart one, Jacks. I can’t go anymore either. The last time I came dangerously close to ripping some jackass’s head off. He was hooting and hollering, and my fists were turning to iron just listening to him. At least your girl isn’t taking off her clothes in front of a bunch of horny men.”

  “First of all, she’s not my girl. Not that I’d be opposed to calling her that. When I watched her ride, I swear I held my breath the entire fucking time. Dangerous stunts are only fun to watch if you have no feelings for the person doing them.”

  Gideon looked at me. “You do have feelings for her?”

  I leaned back casually. “Is that surprising?”

  “No, she’s what those city boys call the bees knees. It’s just I haven’t seen you have feelings for any girl since—” His words fell off. He knew it was never a good thing to bring up Ella.

  “I just like being with Charli. It can’t ever be serious because in just over a month’s time, she’ll be packing up and leaving with the rest of the troupe. And you should keep that in mind too. It’s not like you toss your feelings toward many women either.”

  “Yeah. It’s easier not to think about that. Rose has suffered a big heartbreak. She’s only been a war widow for three years. The wound is still raw. Charli’s seen her share of tragedy too.”

  A tall and regal blue heron walked with long, slow motion steps along the grassy edge of the road, on its way, no doubt, to fish in the canal. “I know she lost both parents already.”

  Gideon looked over at me. “Did she tell you what happened to her ma?”

  I took another drag off my smoke. “No, and I didn’t ask.”

  “Rose hasn’t been with the carnival that long. She had only heard it from others, but apparently, Buck had come up with a brilliant plan to have Charli’s ma ride through flaming hoops after she came out of the sphere. Rose said making money is the only thing Starfield cares about. Her ma’s costume caught fire, and she went up in flames so fast, she was dead before anyone could get to her. Charli was in the stands watching the whole thing.”

  “Jesus. I had no idea. I could tell it wasn’t something she wanted to talk about. No wonder.” Maybe that was the connection I’d sensed between us. We’d both had to sit helplessly by while someone we loved died.

  “Anyhow, Rose said they have a day off tomorrow. The carnival is shutting down for some maintenance. I guess those afternoon Blue Ridge breezes are taking their toll on the tents.”

  “Yeah? Tomorrow? Good to know.”

  “Don’t know why I’m saving this.” Gideon handed me the cigar. “Light this, would ya?”

  I stuck a match and sucked on the tip of the cigar until its spicy aroma filled the car. I handed it to Gideon. He stuck it between his lips.

  “You remind me of Ole Roy when you smoke one of those things,” I said. “Turn here. It’s that third barge.” A stack of fresh lumber was piled up on the long, flat deck of the barge. A man with a black pinstriped newsboy cap came out of the hold as we drove up.

  “Lumber,” Gideon grunted. “It figures. How is that little dream of yours coming? I haven’t been out there in months.”

  “I think even you might be impressed, brother. Already got the brick wall for the foundation set.” My brothers and I had inherited ten acres a good half mile from our home. Ole Roy had bought it as an investment with the notion that someday he’d have a big house built on the land. It never happened. But the parcel had great views of the mountains, and it was quiet and far back from the road. It was the perfect setting for a house.

  I opened the door and stepped out. The canal always smelled of a mixture of stale water and barge oil.

  The man in the cap was aged by weather and life on the river, but he was probably not more than thirty. “Are you Jarrett?”

  “That’s me.” I shook his hand. Three stacks of one-by-six fir planks, the base flooring for my project, lined one side of the barge. “It’s all here?”

  “You can count them if you’d like. I’m docked for the rest of the afternoon.”

  “No, looks right to me.” I walked back to the truck. One crate of whiskey remained in the bed. I pulled it out and carried it back to the barge.

  “And I thought that one was for us,” Gideon called from the truck.

  I lowered the crate onto the deck and glanced back to Gideon. “You going to sit there and suck on that expensive cigar or are you going to get your ass out here to help carry this lumber?”

  Chapter 10

  Charli

  The voice coming from the main tent made me cringe. I picked up my pace. But I wasn’t fast enough. The man’s pointy face was shaded by his hat, and his small dark eyes skewered me like a tasty kabob from beneath the brim. Two of his minions stepped out behind him. They looked like giant slabs of clay, with no thoughts of their own, just waiting for the boss’s next order.

  “Ahh, the lovely Enchantress.” Everything about the man was so smarmy, it made my teeth hurt.

  “You’ll have to excuse me.” I tried to sidle past, but somehow, he’d managed to convince himself that it was all right to touch me. His cold fingers took hold of my wrist.

  I glared down at his hand. “Please let go.” I lifted my face to his and stared directly at him. No flinching. It was obvious the man wasn’t use to that. A wicked grin kicked up on his face. He slowly peeled away his fingers.

  “Tough girl, eh? That just makes you more enticing.” He stepped closer. Again, I kept my scowl steely hard. His shaving powder had a harsh, bitter scent that went well with the rest of him. The only inconsistency was a spicy, almost sweet, fragrance seemingly coming from his hair grease. It was almost a comical addition to his otherwise vile demeanor. “Your stepfather and I are partners now, so you should get used to seeing me around.”

  “That’ll be like getting used to a having a rattlesnake lurking around.” I spoke through gritted teeth, but he was undeterred. My obvious distaste of him only seemed to heighten his interest.

  �
�Your stepfather’s success in this deal might just depend on you getting used to having a venomous snake around then, because I always get what I want.”

  His words sent a shiver along my spine, but I stood solid like stone. He made a point of scanning me from head to toe and punctuated his lascivious inspection with a small flick of his tongue, adding weight to the snake comparison.

  “And, my beautiful Enchantress, I want you.” With that, he and his clay bodyguards walked away.

  Emma came bustling out of our tent, still trying to tame back her curls with a sparkly gold clip. Everyone was in a lighter mood because the carnival was shut down for a day. Even though there was plenty to do, it felt like a holiday. “This humidity is making me crazy.” She had her small velvet satchel on her wrist. “I’m going to look for some kind of cream for my hair. Rose wants a bar of soap.” Emma stopped in front of me and sucked in a much need breath. “Preferably Yardley’s lavender.” She grinned. “Rose is really sweet on that big man she met. I’m so excited for her, aren’t you?”

  I was more of a realist than a romantic when it came to men, especially compared to Emma. It was rare for Emma to take note of anyone’s feelings but her own, but she apparently sensed my worry.

  “Oh no, miss dark cloud. Don’t spoil this.” She scurried after me still fussing with her thick curls as I headed to the car. Buck owned a 1910 model T roadster that he loved too much to part with. He had it hauled along with the ticket wagon in the back of the box trucks from place to place. It came in handy for small trips to get supplies, like today when Emma and I had decided to run off and pick up a few sundries. “Rose is walking around the tent humming and smiling.”

  “I know, Emma. And I’m not a dark cloud.” I turned the crank on the car. It took several tries before the sickly sounding motor fired up. I hopped into the driver’s seat. “But you should know better than anyone, that finding love in this nomad lifestyle only leads to heartbreak.”

  Emma blinked at me, her big blue eyes were like saucers. “My god, you’ve fallen for that sugary looking rum runner, haven’t you?”

  Apparently, I’d greatly underestimated Emma’s ability to read people’s emotions. I was sure I’d been keeping up a good, stalwart facade about it all. “I haven’t fallen for him. Not in the way you fall for men, Emma.” I regretted the words the second they slipped past my flapping lips.

  She crossed her arms angrily and sat back hard against the seat. “That’s right. Emma just follows around every man she meets with starry eyes and pouty lips.”

  “Forgive me, Em. Sometimes I just blather on without thinking.”

  She pursed her lips. I knew she was going to stay angry at least until we reached the store. Emma had perfected the silent pout. But she came out of her moods quickly.

  I remembered the route we’d taken that day when I’d given Jackson a ride on Gypsy. Mabel’s store seemed to be the only one for miles. I hoped she stocked some of the essentials we needed.

  It seemed like a much shorter journey by automobile than by horseback, even if my traveling partner the first time had been far more entertaining than the silently brooding woman next to me. There were no cars in front of the store. It looked more like a ramshackle house that a book character might come across in the clearing of a magical forest than a general store. The owner looked a bit storybook-like herself with her perfect red apple cheeks and candy colored hair.

  A friendly grin split her round face in two as she looked up from her receipt ledger. “How are you girls today? Y’all are from the traveling carnival, aren’t ya?”

  “Yes we are. How are you this morning?” I asked.

  “Right as rain, dearest. Right as rain.” A laugh burst from her mouth, temporarily inflating her already round cheeks. “Never have figured out what that means, but it sounds so darn poetic, doesn’t it?” She waved off her comment. “Ach, I’m rambling on like a loon. My son would be rolling his eyes. He’s one of those bookish men. Loves my apple pie but hates it when I babble on like a country hoyden.” She placed her hand over mouth for a quick second. “What is with me? I brewed a pot of coffee this morning that was so black it could have been used to tar the road. It has me flitting around like a hummingbird and chattering like a parrot.” She closed up her ledger. “Enough, Mabel, you’ll scare them off,” she told herself. “What can I help you girls find?” She walked around the counter. The front of it was a long line of glass display windows. Shaving kits and lustrous silver razors lined the top two shelves. Toiletries like cold cream and soap finished off the next two. The top of the counter was lined with red and blue boxes of Wrigley’s spearmint chewing gum, Peter’s chocolate candy bars and decorative gift boxes of salt water taffy.

  “We need some toothpaste, and do you happen to have Yardley’s lavender soap?” I asked.

  Her mound of light brown hair wobbled in its loose set of pins as she inclined her head for us to follow. Her ample hips nearly filled the narrow aisle. “I only have Palmolive soap. But I have several brands of toothpaste,” she said proudly. “Do you need a toothbrush as well?” She glanced back at me and then stopped. “Why, you’re that pretty girl who rode up on the horse the other day. You were with Jackson, and he bought you a cold ginger ale,” she recited the afternoon’s events as if I hadn’t actually been present.

  Emma raised a perfectly tweezed brow at me. “Is that so?”

  “Yes, that was truly a cold drink too. You must have a remarkable icebox.”

  Mabel winked and elbowed Emma conspiratorially as if they’d known each other a long time. “You see how smoothly she switched topics from Jackson to my remarkable icebox.” She laughed. “That’s all right. I don’t blame you. That Jackson Jarrett works his way into every girl’s heart.” She pressed her hand against her large breast. “He can even make me blush with his sweet talking ways and handsome smile. His pa was well loved too. Jackson takes after Ole Roy a lot. There are just some people who have that ability, I suppose. That power to capture everyone’s attention. But you’d know that.” She patted my arm. “You look like you’ve got that power too.” She looked at Emma. “And you too,” she said with less enthusiasm, and Emma looked rightly insulted. “That boy has just never been the same since Ella died.” She looked at me, and saw I had no idea what she was talking about. She placed her hand on my arm. “Ella and Jackson had been sweethearts since they were young teens. She drowned in the river, and Jackson was there. Saw the whole thing. Ella’s pa nearly killed Jackson. Poor boy, he was so heartbroken, he never got serious about any other girl.” She contradicted the solemn conversation with an ill-timed laugh. “I declare I cannot stop flapping my jaws this morning. That’s the last time I make the coffee so strong.”

  I, too, was wishing that she hadn’t had so much coffee. Her loquacious mood had just darkened my morning. Of course, I was being silly. To Jackson, I was just a temporary diversion from the other girls in town. A new face passing through. That’s all. He hadn’t even taken the time to come see me since our first date. That notion darkened my mood even more. Perhaps I wasn’t even a diversion.

  I picked out a toothpaste, and Emma found a shampoo that claimed to be perfect for taming curls. Rose was going to have to go without the lavender fragrance. I walked to the back wall where the red and white soup cans were lined on a shelf. Canned soup was perfect for heating on an outdoor fire.

  Emma had returned to the counter to sift through a tray of hairclips Mabel had brought out from the glass case. They were both busy trying to decide which clip suited Emma’s brunette hair, while I busied myself at the back of the store trying to decide if I would prefer vegetable soup to tomato when the front door opened and creaked shut.

  “Well, speak of the devil,” Mabel said excitedly.

  “Devil? What did I do to deserve that title?”

  “Oh please,” Mabel laughed. “What haven’t you done?”
/>
  I could only hear his voice, but that was all I needed. It was that deep, mellow sound that I loved, and it fit the rest of him perfectly. I hadn’t realized my hands were trembling until I reached for the soup can, vegetable, I’d decided, was more filling than tomato. I walked up from the back of the store. Jackson’s face turned my direction. I dropped the soup. It rolled across the floor stopping on a sack of potatoes.

  Jackson walked over and picked it up. “Vegetable soup? Doesn’t seem like much of a meal for a motorcycle stunt rider.”

  That comment grabbed Mabel’s attention. “Motorcycle stunt rider? Do you mean to tell me a pretty little slip of a thing like yourself rides a motorcycle?” Another boisterous laugh, this time accompanied by a shake of her head.

  Jackson smiled down at me. “She’s tougher than she looks.” He said the comment to Mabel, but it felt as if we were alone in the conversation. “I was just about to head out to the carnival to see you.”

  “Were you?” I asked casually as if I hadn’t been waiting for it. I took the soup can from his hand. “How have you been?” I used my most non-committal tone, like two people just making simple conversation.

  “I’ve been fine,” he said almost as a question. He gazed down at me, obviously confused by my cool reception.

  “That’s good to hear.” I headed to the counter to pay for my goods. After what Mabel had told me about losing his sweetheart, along with the cold reality that he hadn’t come to the show again after our first date, and the sudden realization that I was disappointed by that, assured me I needed to keep my guard up. This passing fancy had to stay just that.

  Jackson pinched off his hat and dropped it on the counter. He swept back his hair with his fingers, and then leaned a forearm on the counter. I forced myself to ignore the fact that he looked incredibly handsome. He watched as Mabel rang me up. Emma was still trying on clips. She picked one up and pressed it against her hair and turned to Jackson for his opinion.