mystic caravan mystery 01 - freaky days

by Amanda M. Lee

  I shot Luke a withering glare.

  “Unless she wants you to get fresh,” Luke corrected, grinning widely. “If that happens, then go nuts.”

  “Breakfast is ready,” I announced. I think we’d all had enough of that conversation for one day.

  “WHERE do you want to start?” I asked an hour later, caffeine and embarrassment over Luke’s rather obvious attempt at pairing us fueling me. The last thing I needed was Luke putting ideas in Kade’s head.

  “Where do you think we should start?” Kade asked. “You’re in charge here.”

  “Not totally.”

  “I thought you were going to let that go.”

  I tugged on my limited patience and sucked in a cleansing breath. “You’re right,” I said. “I don’t mean to be so … persnickety.”

  “I thought you were proud of that trait,” Kade said, his eyes flashing as he teased me.

  “I guess I just don’t like being told my work isn’t good enough,” I admitted. “It … hurts.”

  “I don’t know you, but after two days I find it hard to believe anyone could call your work ethic into question,” Kade said. “I’ve been watching you.”

  “You’ve been watching me?”

  “You’re the woman in charge,” Kade said. “I have to watch you to make sure I know how to do things the right way. Anyone can do a job, but I’d like to be able to say that I’m doing this job to the best of my ability. To do that I need to learn from the best. You’re the best.”

  My heart flopped at his words as my pulse raced. I hated my reaction. It was so … high school. He was just a man, I reminded myself. Sure, he was incredibly handsome – almost ridiculously so – but he was still just a man. Odds were he wouldn’t even stay with Mystic Caravan for the long haul. Many people join the circus dreaming of full-time fun. Most quit after a few months, when the reality of our world sinks in.

  “You don’t need to suck up,” I said. “I apologize for not making you feel welcome. There’s something about you that rubbed me the wrong way at our first meeting and it wasn’t entirely your fault.”

  “I guess I’ll have to work on rubbing you the right way.” The meaning of his words dawned on Kade about the same time my mind went to a horribly dirty place. “That might have come out wrong.”

  “Why don’t we get moving,” I suggested. “We both seem to be saying things that we don’t mean.”

  “Who says I didn’t mean it?”

  “I … .” Was he flirting with me?

  Kade rolled his eyes at my discomfort. “You need to loosen up, Poet,” he teased. “You’re a fortune teller. You act as if you’re the circus librarian.”

  “Your mind just went to me being a naughty librarian, didn’t it?”

  Kade smiled ruefully. “Men are animals.”

  He had no idea. “Why don’t we focus on work?” I suggested.

  “Fine,” Kade said, reluctantly giving in. “Tell me about setup days.”

  “There’s not much to tell,” I said, beginning the tour along the midway. “We run shows four days a week. The Thursday show is minimal and the Sunday show is shorter as well. Thursday is to get people in so they get a taste. Sunday is to get people out so we can move on.”

  “Okay.”

  “The midway is where we make most of our money,” I explained. “Ticket sales are only thirty percent of our revenue. The games, souvenirs and concessions make up the rest. As much as we like a good show, we love a full midway.

  “The problem with the midway is that we get most of our security problems there,” I continued. “If someone is going to start a fight, it usually starts there. If someone is going to complain about the games being rigged, they might try to start a fight with the barkers.”

  “I’m sure alcohol plays a big factor in that,” Kade said.

  “We don’t have alcohol at all shows,” I clarified. “It depends on the license we get from the city. Des Moines, for example, is a dry circus.”

  “Why?”

  “City ordinances,” I replied. “It all comes down to the people you deal with. We used to fight the alcohol ordinances. It’s too time consuming, though. Now we just follow the rules for the individual city and move on. It’s no secret that alcohol sales help our bottom line, though.”

  “Drunk people like to throw away money.”

  “Exactly.” I led Kade through the midway, which hummed with activity, but was still relatively sleepy. “Most of the game stations will be set up tonight. They might not be fully functional, but they will be by dinner tomorrow.

  “Mondays and Tuesdays are usually our busiest days,” I said. “It’s a lot more time consuming to pack than it is to break them down.”

  “Why?”

  “Because stocking takes longer than packing,” I replied, shrugging. “When we’re packing, our stockpiles are lower. When we’re setting up, we have to make sure that we’re overstocked. It is what it is.”

  “That makes sense,” Kade mused, glancing around. “I see you have regular attractions over here, too. It’s not just the games.”

  “We have a House of Mirrors, which Raven runs,” I said, trying hard not to spit after I said her name. Raven and I had a tempestuous relationship on the best of days. For some reason, her very existence irked me today. I know what you’re thinking. He’s still just a man. “We also have a haunted funhouse.”

  “And who runs that?”

  “Sid Dorchester,” I replied. “He’s our resident clown, although we have a handful of other clowns as well. They stick closer to the big tent to entertain the kids. Sid spends most of his time at the funhouse.”

  Kade involuntarily shuddered and I couldn’t help but smile.

  “Afraid of clowns?” I asked.

  “I’m not afraid of a grown man dressed like a freaky … thing … in makeup,” Kade scoffed.

  That’s not how it sounded to me. “A lot of people fear clowns,” I said, instinctively patting his arm and marveling at the muscle I felt rippling beneath his simple T-shirt. “There’s no reason to feel bad about it.”

  “Fine. I find them creepy,” Kade conceded, an embarrassed expression on his face. “I think they should be outlawed.”

  “There are a lot of things here that people think should be outlawed,” I cautioned. “Sid is a … weird dude. He’s got wandering hands and he’s kind of creepy. In the grand scheme of things, though, he’s easier to get along with than the guy who runs the midway.”

  “And who is that?”

  “Mark Lane.”

  “I’m going to ignore the fact that you just told me the clown has wandering hands and focus on the midway guy,” Kade said. “Why don’t you like him?”

  “He has attitude,” I replied. “Don’t get me wrong, we all have attitude. You can’t help it in this business. Mark gives the impression that he’s … slimy.”

  “And the handsy adult man dressing as a clown doesn’t?”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “You need to meet them both and make your own decisions,” I said. “I don’t want to influence you. You might find Sid isn’t so bad after you’ve gotten to know him.”

  “You think I’m going to hate Mark, though, don’t you?”

  “Everyone hates Mark.”

  “Then why is he still here?” Kade asked.

  “Because he brings in huge numbers with the games,” I answered. “When you bring in fifty percent of the profit margin you’re allowed to be a jackhole.”

  Kade furrowed his brow. “What’s a jackhole?”

  “It’s a nicer way of saying a-hole.”

  “Why can’t you just say that?”

  “Because in a few days this place will be swarming with kids,” I said. “Parents don’t like it when you slip up and swear in front of their little darlings. I make it a habit of replacing all curse words with colorful … indulgences.”

  “I guess that makes sense,” Kade said, rubbing his jaw. “I never thought about that. I guess I’m going to have to cl
ean up my vocabulary.”

  “It couldn’t hurt.”

  “Okay, so Mark is a jackhole and Sid is a creepy groper,” Kade said. “What about everyone else?”

  “You’re going to have different personalities whenever you deal with a group of people this large,” I said. “It’s inevitable. For the most part, everyone is smart and friendly and they know what they’re doing.”

  “But?” Kade prodded.

  “But there are exceptions in every group, including this one.”

  “Tell me about everyone’s duties,” Kade said. “My understanding is people have multiple jobs.”

  “They do,” I said, nodding. “It’s going to take you some time to get to know everyone and the services they provide. Raven, for example, runs the House of Mirrors but also steps in under the big top when we need someone to sing.”

  “Raven can sing?” Kade looked intrigued.

  I fought the urge to scowl. “She’s not going to be hitting the stage with Taylor Swift anytime soon, but she can carry a tune.”

  “You don’t like her either,” Kade teased.

  “I don’t dislike her.”

  “Whatever.” Kade was enjoying himself. “What does Luke do?”

  “Luke is all over the place,” I said. “He serves as ringmaster for one weekend showing and he also performs one trapeze show. His main job is handling the animals, though.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask about that,” Kade said, his eyes traveling to the closed-off portion of camp behind the trailers. “Max warned that I should never go back there because only their trainers are supposed to be around the animals. If the animals are so dangerous, why do you have them?”

  It was a good question. The problem was, Kade had no idea the animal area was a smokescreen. There were no animals beyond the orange partition. Mystic Caravan hasn’t utilized real animals in … well … forever. All the animals in our shows are really shifters with dual duties. There was no way I could tell him that, though. “It’s for insurance purposes,” I lied. “We can only let people who have been properly trained and licensed back in that area.”

  “Can I get properly trained and licensed?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe eventually,” I said. “I think you should get used to everything else first. The animals are great, and I can make sure you meet some of them in a safe environment if you want. Just … don’t go wandering around back there. It could cause real problems.”

  “Okay.”

  Kade acquiesced easily, but I worried he wouldn’t keep his word. “Seriously, don’t go back there.”

  “I said I wouldn’t.” Kade glanced at me. “You’re making me think there’s something going on over there that you don’t want me to know about.”

  That was the last thing I needed him to think. “What I don’t want is for this circus to lose its license because we didn’t follow the rules.”

  “How would anyone know?”

  “The licensing board sends people to shows all the time,” I said. “They pop up unannounced. We don’t want any mistakes costing us. It has happened to a lot of other circuses.”

  “Duly noted,” Kade said, shooting me an amiable grin. “What’s next?”

  He was so gung-ho it was hard not to like him. Still, he was going to make our existence difficult over the next few weeks. Our lives are much more than the circus. There was no way he could know that, though.

  “How about I show you the big tent and how they set up there?” I suggested.

  “Lead the way.”

  Six

  “How was the tour with your new hunk of burning love?”

  Luke was in a good mood as we drove toward downtown Des Moines later that afternoon. We needed groceries for the week and it was our turn to do the run. Actually, we almost always handle the run. Some of the circus members don’t feel comfortable wandering around the general public because people stare. Others aren’t safe to be around the general public because they stare. Quite a few others are merely lazy and would rather leave the heavy lifting to us.

  “Will you stop with your matchmaking quest?” I grumbled from my spot in the passenger seat of Luke’s Ford F-150, or Lucille, as he affectionately referred to the pickup. What is it with men naming their cars and trucks, by the way?

  “I’ll never stop,” Luke said, smirking as he slid me a sidelong look. “I haven’t seen you this … unbalanced … over a guy since you met that skydiver in Oregon three years back. That was an interesting week.”

  “You’re exaggerating.”

  “The trailer didn’t stop rocking for five straight days,” Luke said.

  That was a good week. “I’m not interested in Kade that way.”

  “You’re such a bad liar,” Luke said, easing off the gas pedal as the outskirts of Des Moines crested into view. “Do we need to go to a big box store or will a regular grocery store do this week?”

  I glanced at the list. “We need a big box store. We need more towels.”

  “How do we go through so many towels?”

  “If you could answer that question I’d date the new guy just to shut you up.”

  Luke arched a challenging eyebrow. “Well, you can’t go back on it now. You said it. I heard it. I’m going to find out what’s going on with the towels and then you’re going to have to date Kade. That’s a weird name – Kade.” He rolled the name over his tongue. “Kade. You guys could fall in love and have really weirdly named children eventually.”

  He was starting to bug me. “Will you stop saying stuff like that?”

  “It only bothers you because you like him.”

  “I don’t know him,” I countered. “How can I possibly like a man I don’t even know?”

  “You’re attracted to him,” Luke corrected. “You like his body. You’re warm for his form. You’re hot for his trot. You want to rumble in the jungle. You want him to bury his bone. You want to make the beast with two backs.”

  “Are you through?”

  “Not quite,” Luke replied, unruffled. “You want to bag the bishop, roll in the hay and put the basilisk into the Chamber of Secrets.”

  I didn’t want to encourage him, but that last one took me by surprise so all I could do was chuckle. “You’re unbelievable.”

  “It’s okay to be attracted to the new guy,” Luke said, reaching over and patting my knee. “I’m pretty sure he’s attracted to you, too. That makes me worry about him, though.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You’ve been mean to him,” Luke said. “He either gets off on being mistreated – which could be fun if he hands you the reins in the bedroom – or he has no self-esteem. That could be a problem in the bedroom if he expects you to do all the work.”

  “I am done talking to you,” I muttered.

  “Whatever,” Luke said, keeping his eyes on the road as he followed the signs to the Walmart Supercenter and pulled into the busy parking lot. “Just make sure you don’t keep any details from me. You know I live vicariously through your sex life – which means I’ve been dead inside for years.”

  “I’ll keep a journal.”

  “That will be fun!”

  INSIDE THE STORE, Luke and I separated. I took on the food aisles while he collected everything else. A weekly shopping trip is the equivalent of Christmas Eve shopping for a family of fifty, so it’s not something you can rush.

  I was knee-deep in pasta boxes when I noticed a man watching me from about twenty feet away. He had a shopping cart – although it was practically empty – and he was making a big show of perusing the spaghetti sauce options when I glanced up. I kept catching him watching me from the corner of my eye and opted to ignore him. Because of my long hair and odd-colored eyes, I appear exotic in certain circles. I would definitely stand out in a Walmart in the middle of Iowa. On the streets of Los Angeles, though, I’m barely a distraction.

  After double-checking to make sure I had everyone’s favorite pasta shape, I turned the corner and moved to the next aisle, pushing t
he man out of my mind as I picked through various peanut butter and jelly options. I was lost in thought so it took me a moment to register the figure parking his cart behind mine.

  “A lot of choices, huh?”

  I glanced over, narrowing my eyes as I recognized the man from the previous aisle. There was nothing out of the ordinary about him. He was average height, his hair a muted brown. His eyes were close set and brown, and the smile he sent was friendly. My inner danger alert pinged anyway. Something wasn’t right.

  “I think there are the same choices in peanut butter and jelly aisles all across the world,” I said. “If you know what you like, it’s not really a choice.” I wasn’t trying to be rude, but I wasn’t trying to be friendly either.

  “Oh, I definitely know what I like.” The man winked at me. It gave me the heebie-jeebies.

  “Then you shouldn’t have a problem picking out your peanut butter.”

  “I like it … smooth.” The man barely blinked, which was off-putting.

  “Good for you.” I grabbed two large jars and tossed them in my cart. “Have a nice day.”

  “Where are you going?” The man started following me, abandoning his cart.

  “I’m going to finish my shopping and then go home.” I didn’t bother to look at him. I didn’t want him to think I was even remotely interested.

  “And where is home?”

  “The place I go to sleep every night.” I didn’t appreciate his interest, or the way he followed me. As I rounded the next corner I almost smacked into another shopper. I was relieved to realize it was Luke. “Hey.”

  “Hey,” Luke said, barely glancing up. “I’m in the mood for pickled beets.”

  “Go nuts.”

  My new friend picked that moment to scurry around the corner, pulling up short when he saw Luke. “Oh … um … there you are.”

  Luke tore his attention away from the canned goods and surveyed the new arrival. “Who is this?”

  “I’m George Forrest.” The man extended his hand by way of greeting, but Luke ignored it.

  “What’s going on?”

  “George and I were having a thoroughly titillating conversation on the merits of peanut butter – and then he followed me here,” I said, hoping my voice didn’t betray the nervous energy coursing through me.