[Mystic Caravan Mystery 04.0] Freaky Games

by Amanda M. Lee

  Now that was a really interesting question. “I don’t think so.” I gave the notion some thought. “I’ve been in that tent hundreds of times. I think I would’ve tripped over an anguished soul if they were still alive in those husks.”

  Melissa pursed her lips. “I guess that’s true. It’s still weird to think about.”

  It was definitely weird to think about. It was also dangerous to talk about if Nixie overheard and started whining. “Well, it’s not as if Nixie is dressing them up like Barbie dolls or anything.” I rolled my neck and glanced toward the open tent flap, my mind busy. “Do you want your own tent?”

  “I … don’t know.” Melissa looked caught. “I kind of like doing what you’re doing.”

  “So you want me to quit and give you my job?”

  Melissa shook her head. “No, I just want to work with you more often and do the occasional readings. You know a lot about dealing with the public. I’m not quite there yet. I have more left to learn.”

  The simple admission was enough to double my guilt. “I’m sorry I haven’t spent a lot of time with you. I know you were probably expecting more when you joined, up but … it’s been a busy couple of weeks. That’s not an excuse … I am sorry.”

  “I don’t need a babysitter,” Melissa countered. “I don’t expect you to stop living your life simply so you can focus on me. I just wanted to learn from you.”

  If I wasn’t already swimming in guilt, that would’ve tossed me over the edge. “You can do some readings tonight.” I made the offer without thinking it through, but realized relatively quickly that it was a good idea. “I have some other things to deal with anyway. It will work out well.”

  “Really?” Melissa brightened. “I should probably get dressed for it then, huh? Get completely decked out and everything so people don’t question why I’m the one running the tent.”

  “That’s probably a good idea.” I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. “I’ll take the early shift and work until five. Then you can take the night shift.”

  “The entire night shift?” Melissa’s eyes were so wide I thought they might swallow her entire face. “This is so great.” She bounced toward the opening, clapping her hands, and then stilled before casting a gaze over her shoulder. “I don’t expect you to rearrange your life for me. I’m not a child, and you don’t have to entertain me. You’ve already done a lot for me. I don’t expect more. You know that, right?”

  “I do.”

  “You’ve been busy with Kade, and I get that,” Melissa added. “You deserve to be happy, and you seem happy.”

  “I … well … thank you.”

  “Are you happy?”

  Several months ago the question would’ve annoyed me. Now I was happy to answer it.

  “I am.” I meant it. “I’m not happy with Luke right now, but I guess everything can’t be perfect at the same time. That would be asking too much.”

  Melissa giggled. “Well, I want to thank you for this. I really appreciate it.”

  “Once this is over we’ll get you a tent of your own,” I said. “We’ll figure out a shtick for you – something unique – and you’ll find that it’s just as much fun as doing what I do. Trust me.”

  “Okay. That sounds good.”

  It did … and I was almost looking forward to it. Now we just had to survive Las Vegas, jerky loan sharks, a morose figment and whatever that shadow monster happened to be if we expected to get out of town alive.

  That wasn’t too much to expect, right?

  Right?

  “I WANT TO know when I’m going to become a top model. I need specific dates and hints about where I should be when I’m about to be discovered. Also, it might be best to write down your answers so nothing is lost in translation.”

  Kaylene Bishop was cute as a kitten with a ball of yarn. She had long blonde hair, bright blue eyes and a smile that lit up the entire tent. She had star presence … and then some. She was also five feet tall – if I’m being generous – and wore Crocs to cover what had to be a pair of the biggest feet I’ve ever seen.

  I pursed my lips, unsure how to answer. Most people visiting my tent want to hear good things. They think they’ll become rich … or maybe marry the perfect man … or somehow become president and rule the world. This was the first time I was asked about being a top model. It was mildly exciting.

  “So … that’s what you want to do with your life?” I ran my hand over the crystal ball resting in the middle of the table. It was mostly for looks. I could count on one hand the number of times I gleaned a vision from it. They were rare and often cloudy because the energy in the ball was ancient and muddled. But my customers didn’t need to know that. Props always help in this line of work.

  “It is.” Kaylene bobbed her head so enthusiastically her ample bosom – which was on display in her tight top – jiggled.

  “Well, honey, I think perhaps you’re barking up the wrong malnourished model tree.” I could see inside her head. She was open to almost anything, but her heart was set on walking important runways in Europe. She had no idea how that works, only that she wanted it. I also got a few curious glimpses into her future. She definitely was going to be a star. She simply wasn’t going to be the kind of star she thought she’d be.

  “I don’t know what that means.” Kaylene’s face was blank, her pouty lips pronounced. “Are you saying I’m not going to be a top model? Because let me tell you, I’ve done a lot of research and I’m totally going to be a top model. I know every single thing there is to know and I’m ready for the big time.”

  “Uh-huh. I see.”

  “I am.”

  “It’s just … where did you perform your research?” The girl was so cute I didn’t want to risk insulting her.

  “Um … television.”

  Oh, well, that made sense. “America’s Next Top Model?”

  “They show reruns on the Oxygen network,” Kaylene conceded, twiddling with the end of the straw in the soda she clutched. “I’ve learned everything I can possibly learn. I know how to smile, how to look high fashion and commercial depending on the day, and how to mentally mess with the other models so they quit and I’m the only one left standing.”

  “It sounds as if you’ve got it all figured out.”

  “I do.”

  “There’s just one thing, sweetie,” I said, shifting on my chair as I prepared myself to deliver a soul-crushing blow. “You’re only five feet tall.”

  “So?”

  “So I believe – and correct me if I’m wrong because I don’t follow the modeling profession very closely – but I believe that most models are like, five-foot-ten, or so.”

  “So?”

  I wet my lips, frustration bubbling up. “So you’re ten inches too short. And, truth be told, I think you’re a little too well-endowed to be a high fashion model.”

  “I … what?” Kaylene glanced around, her expression unreadable although I could feel her frustration bubbling up. She expected me to roll over, tell her what she wanted to hear, and then hit the rest of the circus so she could flirt with whatever young men crossed her path. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “I mean that your boobs are too big, honey,” I said, grabbing my own for emphasis. “Most high fashion models have much smaller breasts. Yours are like watermelons … and I think, at best, you can only have oversized oranges and the occasional grapefruits.”

  Instead of being annoyed, Kaylene offered up a “well, duh” expression that almost caused me to snicker. “Not the ones in Sports Illustrated.”

  “Okay, well, I think that’s a different sort of model. I also think you’re too short to be that sort of model.”

  “You don’t know!” Kaylene was offended. “I could be a great Sports Illustrated model.”

  “I’m sure you could. I don’t make the modeling rules. I’m simply telling you what I see when I look into your future.”

  “You don’t see crap,” Kaylene exploded, hopping to
her feet. “You’re a fraud! I want my money back.”

  I pointed to the “no refunds” sign affixed to the wall behind me. I was trying to help, but there was only so far I could go without losing my cool. “Sorry.”

  “You suck!”

  I opened my mouth to wish her a nice day but found myself distracted as the soda from her cup flew in my direction. I blinked rapidly, tamping down the urge to smack her in the face for her actions. Kaylene proceeded to stomp on the ground. I sucked in a breath as I wiped the soda from my face and glared at the mess pooling on the front of my shirt.

  “Well, that was mature.”

  “I will be a top model!” Kaylene barked. “I want to do it!”

  Despite the fact that I was dripping with soda and Kaylene had turned into a whining baby, I didn’t want to send off the girl without hope. It seemed somehow cruel. “You won’t be a top model. I’m sorry. Although … you will be famous.”

  Kaylene stilled, her interest ignited. “How will I be famous?”

  “How do you feel about adult films?”

  The look on her face told me I should be glad she was out of drinks to throw. And here I was trying to help. I wouldn’t make that mistake again.

  MELISSA THANKFULLY stopped by not long after Kaylene and her soda of death erupted. I let her take charge of the tent early, returning to my trailer to change before hitting the midway.

  I was anxious to be out and about in case the creature returned. I had a feeling it wouldn’t show itself in a huge crowd, that it would wait until later, when it was dark, and people started leaving. Still, I wanted to be close should it decide that waiting wasn’t a prime option.

  I also wanted to find Luke.

  I looked for him after Kade admitted what he’d done the previous evening, my stomach thick with unease and anger. I had every intention of unloading a week’s worth of fury on him. I wanted to yell, kick my feet and possibly pull his hair for good measure. Then I wanted to reassure him that everything would be okay and we would fix the situation.

  Luke wisely hid. He had to know that Kade would tell me what he’d been up to. By the time the cops toted away Dana Andrews’ body and the gates opened, Luke had managed to hide for a good three hours. I was mildly impressed.

  I was also ticked off.

  I figured the best place to start looking was the main tent. Luke enjoys acting as ringmaster for early shows. None of those performances include every show in our repertoire. They’re more like appetizers, a small sampling to keep the crowds happy while holding back the main course until night. Still, Luke loves mugging for the crowd. Whenever he’s in a sour mood it makes him feel better. I figured that was my best bet for finding him.

  I took a pass by the midway first, making sure Mark was on top of things. Las Vegas wasn’t a dry venue. It was still early enough in the afternoon that most visitors weren’t drunk. Once the beer and wine started flowing, though, fists often followed.

  Mark stood in his usual spot, arms crossed, and watched the families throw money away on endless games. He raised his chin when he saw me staring, offering me a smarmy wink. I swallowed my bile as I closed the distance.

  “Hello, Poet. You look … fresh … today.”

  I glanced down at my cargo shorts and T-shirt – a decidedly un-Poet outfit for a show day – and shrugged. “One of my earlier clients didn’t like the future I read for her and threw a drink on me.”

  Mark snorted, amused. “Well, that’s nice. It can’t be the first time.”

  “It’s not even the first time this month,” I admitted. “I’ve considered banning drinks from my tent. I didn’t see it coming from her. She’s so tiny you could fit her in your pocket.”

  “That sounds darling,” Mark drawled. “Is that why you’re here? Are you calling it a day on reading fortunes?”

  “I left Melissa in charge of the tent. She’ll be fine.”

  “She is a cute little thing, too, isn’t she?”

  I stiffened at his tone. He’s gross even when he’s not preying on women who are barely legal. When he doesn’t bother to hide his lecherous intentions he’s downright disgusting. “Don’t even think about it.”

  Mark faked shock. “I can’t believe you’d actually think that about me.”

  “And I can’t believe you think I’ll believe that innocent act of yours,” I shot back. “If you make a move on her, I’ll make a move on you.”

  “Ooh. That sounds exciting.”

  “It won’t when I’m done with you.”

  “You know, this is the second time in as many days that you’ve threatened me,” Mark noted. “I’m starting to think you like me. Isn’t that how it works? You always pretend to hate those you really love?”

  “Think again.” I moved to walk away but I should’ve known better. Mark is far too fond of getting in the last word.

  “So, did Luke’s friend find him?”

  I tilted my head as I turned, interested despite my dislike of Mark. “What friend?”

  Mark acted innocent. “The one in the fancy suit. He had shoulders like a linebacker.”

  My stomach flipped as I worked overtime to keep my temper in check. “How long ago was this?”

  “Oh, about ten minutes ago.”

  I fought the urge to kick Mark’s shins … and lost. I whacked him as hard as I could with the toe of my shoe.

  “Ow!”

  “I know exactly what you’re doing,” I hissed. “You’re not an idiot. You recognized that guy for what he was and you didn’t do a thing to dissuade him or offer help. You’ll be so sorry when I’m done with you.”

  “What did I do?” Mark rubbed his shin, frustrated. “It’s not my job to keep track of all of the guests. I watch my small corner of the world. The rest is up to you.”

  “I don’t have time for this argument, but I swear to you, I’ll make you cry before this is all said and done,” I snapped.

  “I feel like crying now.”

  “Nowhere near as much as you will when I have time to think of a proper punishment,” I seethed. “Where is he?”

  “How should I know?”

  “You pointed him in Luke’s direction. Which way?”

  Mark extended his finger toward the animal tents, grimacing as he tried to fake a sunny smile. “I hope you take out some of this … sexual frustration … on Luke’s friend. Otherwise I won’t be looking forward to seeing you again. You’re mean when you want to be … and not in a fun way.”

  “Oh, well, that’s the best thing I’ve heard all day.” I was ready to storm off, but I opted to kick Mark again for good measure. “Just you wait. You’ll wish you’d never met me.”

  “Girl, I’m already there.”

  23

  Twenty-Three

  I was a mass of nerves by the time I hit the animal tent. Because we don’t really house animals – but we want the public to believe we do because explaining shifters is more difficult than jumping through animal management hoops on the state and federal level – we’re fairly stringent when it comes to protecting the animal tents.

  We put added wards on them to alert us if someone gets too close. It happens occasionally, although it’s almost always a child who gets away from his mother and wants to see the tiger or wolf up close and personal, or an animal rights activist who thinks we’re mistreating animals instead of mocking shifters. Every once in a while we get a stupid adult, but we can generally head them off before it becomes an issue.

  Only two people have ever made it inside the tents and realized we didn’t have animals. I had to modify both of their memories. Thankfully it was an easy job because I essentially only had to change a few minutes of memory, make them think they saw animals in cages, and send them on their way with fond thoughts and an exciting story to tell.

  What was happening inside the tent at this moment was vastly different.

  “I said I would get the money.”

  I recognized Luke’s voice right away and slowed my pace, hovering outside t
he flap so I could listen for a moment. If Luke was in real trouble I’d know it quickly enough to run to his aid. For now, I simply wanted to overhear what the goon had to say.

  “I’m sure you’ll understand that Mr. Pardo has his doubts,” the man said. I hadn’t caught a glimpse of him yet, but I could imagine what he looked like, and not just because I watch a lot of movies and television. He sounded as if his neck was so thick it took forever for his voice to travel through the extra layers of skin.

  “Why does he have his doubts?” Luke sounded whinier than usual. “I said I would come up with the money … and I will.”

  “You have a deadline.”

  “I’m well aware of that.”

  “You agreed to pay off the money before your little … let’s call it a meltdown … regarding the interest payments,” the man said. “Mr. Pardo sent me out here to make sure you understand the severity of the punishment when it comes to nonpayment.”

  I risked a look around the flap so I could see Luke’s face, and didn’t miss his hard swallow. “I can assure you that I understand. I don’t need you to give me a preview of the punishment or anything.”

  “Do you? Understand, I mean.” The pumped-up side of beef standing in front of Luke looked dubious. “I’m not sure. I think I should send a message of sorts to make sure you truly understand what will happen if you don’t pay up.”

  “I understand.”

  “Let’s just see, shall we?”

  I’d heard more than enough, my stomach somersaulting as I acted without thinking. I breezed into the tent, my hands clenched at my sides, and glared fiery bolts at the back of the Neanderthal’s head. He was even wider than I first imagined, and that neck was thick enough to make steroid abusers the world over jealous.

  “Poet?” Luke gasped when he saw me, scrambling to put himself between the thug and me.

  Our visitor seemed amused by my presence, his eyebrows quirking. “Who is this?” he asked, knocking Luke to the side with his beefy arm and grinning in my direction. “She’s very pretty. I was under the impression you were batting for the other team, Luke, but your girlfriend here is … something else. I guess we have different forms of punishment to explore after all.”