by Robbie Cox
“April! Wyatt!” a female voice called out, jerking their attention to the entrance. Brandie Underwood jogged over to them, a file clutched in her hand.
They stood, waiting for the other woman to reach them. Wyatt stared at the blonde, but his mind was still on his decision to sell the circus. He had lost enough family members.
“Brandie, everything all right?” April asked once the other woman joined them.
The detective shrugged, handing Wyatt the folder in her hand. “I’m not sure,” she said, pointing to the file. “I ran a background check on your lawyer, Samuel Finch. He doesn’t exist. I searched every database I could, and he didn’t come up in any of them. Even his law firm is fictional. He’s not who he says he is.”
Wyatt flipped the folder open, his anger replacing his misery. “Who the hell is he then?” Staring down at the lawyer’s beady eyes, he tried to picture seeing the man anywhere else; yet, nothing came to mind. “Why play this ruse if he’s not who he says he is?” He jerked his gaze back up at the detective. “Is he the one who killed my grandfather.”
April glanced over his shoulder, looking at Brandie’s notes as Wyatt asked question after question, to which no one knew the answer. “I’m confused,” she said, pulling the folder closer as she studied it. “This is the lawyer?”
Wyatt turned his gaze to her, nodding. “The bloodsucking lawyer. He’s been chasing us for months, doing his best to convince my grandfather to give up the circus. I think he smelt blood. Hell, he may have caused the blood.”
April turned to face him, her brows pinched, and her eyes narrow slits. “That doesn’t make sense. Why would your uncle want to kill your grandfather or buy the circus? Wouldn’t he be next to inherit?”
“My uncle?” Wyatt stared at the redhead, confused. “What does my uncle have to do with it? He left long before this shit started.”
“It wouldn’t matter,” Patrick said, shaking his head. “Chester gave the circus to Wyatt’s father, then to Wyatt once his father died. All Ingram will inherit is some cash and a few mementos. Even Sedwick will get more of an inheritance, since he stayed with the circus.”
“Why are you asking about my uncle?” Wyatt asked, returning his attention to April.
April pointed to the photo attached to the file. “Because that’s who I saw in my vision last night. I went to Sedwick, so that means it was his father. The lawyer is the one the Powers That Be say will die.” She turned to Wyatt. “Your uncle is the lawyer.”
Wyatt stared down at the photo. “Samuel is my uncle? But….” Wyatt remembered the other day when he noticed Samuel Finch walking around the edge of the circus, taking notes. He was there one minute and gone the next, replaced by a shorter, shaggy-haired—korrigan? Wyatt felt the pressure squeeze his chest. Was that his uncle?
“That would explain how that lawyer got into Black Hollow,” Patrick said, sliding his hands into his pockets. “We’ve always wondered how a human could track us here.”
April nodded. “That still doesn’t explain why he did it.”
“Because he and my grandfather fought hard enough that Ingram left the circus, and grandfather wrote him out of the will. I’m guessing my uncle now wants it all, probably why he promised none of the performers would be out of work.” Wyatt crossed his arms, his hand feeling colder as soon as he no longer held April’s hand. Still, his anger was such that he needed to let go of her before he accidentally broke her fingers with a squeeze of agitation. “Son of a bitch.” He shook his head. “He was right there at the end of every accident because he caused the damn accidents.”
“Do you think Sedwick knew?” Patrick asked, his voice almost a low growl.
Wyatt didn’t want to believe it, but he was sure Sedwick worked with his father. “After April left last night, I had him call my uncle. I don’t think he did, because right then, Samuel walked into the trailer, a look of panic on his face, almost like he was worried. Now, I know he was.” He glanced up at the others. “He thought April was hurting his son, and he rushed to find out or stop it. I saw the look on their faces. Panic and then relief.” He took a deep breath. “Sedwick knows. Hell, he probably helped his father.” He turned his focus to Patrick. “Randall said that the support seemed to just let go. I think that’s because it did. Samuel—Ingram—was that support and held onto it until just the right moment and then let go, causing the center pole to collapse. We couldn’t find it afterward, because Uncle Ingram shifted into something else and scurried away. He then walked in as if he just arrived.” He sucked in a breath, the pain almost stealing his air from his lungs. “He killed my grandfather.” Tears started to drip from his eyes, resisting his struggle to stop them. “He killed my father.”
April reached out, taking him in her arms and squeezing him tightly against her. “We’ll catch him,” she promised. “We know who he is now, so we can have Sebastian arrest him. He won’t hurt anyone else.”
“How do we catch him?” Patrick asked. “There’s no real proof. It’s not like a prosecutor can enter a banshee’s vision into evidence.”
April shrugged. “We do what we always do. We call on the people of Black Hollow.”
Twenty-Five
April watched as the people of Black Hollow piled into the circus, kids screaming as they ran around, pulling their parents’ arms in all different directions. Reina walked in, waving at her as she joined Saoirse and the other banshees heading toward the Ferris wheel. April waved back as others filed in through the admissions gate. She recognized them all, Saroj, Willa and Cora, Victoria Drakki, Jackson and Meredith, even Derrick and Raveena. April shook her head as she watched Brady O’Leary prancing in followed by a gaggle of teenage girls. April just laughed as she silently thanked Brandie Underwood for calling in the troops. All right, the stage is set. Now for the rest of the cast to arrive.
“You think this will work?” Wyatt asked as he stepped up beside her.
She turned to face him and almost jumped back, forgetting his part in the circus. The jester hat tilted on his head as the three different colored cones dangled to the sides, his giant bow tie blocking his throat, and his makeup, which wasn’t really makeup, made his facial expression an over-exaggerated red smile. She nodded, crossing her arms over her chest. “I do,” she assured him. “We’ll give Sedwick the news, and I’m sure he’ll talk to his father. If your uncle follows his pattern, he’ll show up trying to make another offer. That’s when we’ll surround him with what we know. One of them will crack.”
She watched as Wyatt’s chest swelled, and his shoulders rose with his deep breath. “I hope so. I want this to end.”
“And then you’ll keep the circus going?” she asked, still worried he would walk away after everything he suffered. Walking away was a mistake. These people needed him. He needed them as well.
He shrugged. “I’m not sure to be honest. This circus holds a lot of pain for me. I kind of want a break.”
She nodded. “I can understand. Just don’t decide tonight.”
“I won’t,” he promised.
“Wow, where did all the people come from?”
They both turned as Sedwick walked up behind them, his head swiveling as he took in the growing crowd. Wyatt was about to open his mouth, spit out the line he rehearsed since April came up with her scheme, but another voice cut him off.
“Oh, Wyatt, I’m so sorry for everything you’ve endured this week,” Seraphine said as she reached out and drew the korrigan in for a hug. “Chester was such a dear, dear friend of mine for…well for longer than a lady would like to admit to because of revealing her age. He will be missed.”
“Thank you,” Wyatt said as he stepped away from the other woman. “I appreciate it.” He gestured around the circus with a wave of his hand. “I also appreciate you allowing us to do our farewell shows in Black Hollow. I’m sure Gramps wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.”
“Farewell shows?” Sedwick asked, his brows furrowed as he studied his cousin.
“Oh, sweetie, i
t’s my pleasure,” Seraphine said. “Anything to help us remember the greatest ringmaster to lead a circus. I’ll be on the front row.” She reached out, taking April’s hand and squeezing it. “See you inside, April.”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” April said as she waved at the other woman.
Seraphine turned and walked away, leaving them standing there with a baffled Sedwick.
“What final show?” Wyatt’s cousin asked. “What are you talking about? You’re selling the circus?”
Wyatt nodded as he turned to face his cousin. “I am, but not to Samuel Finch. I found another buyer, one who hasn’t been a prick for the past few months. I think it’s time to let go. I’ve lost enough family members. I’m ready to do something else.”
“But the performers, the family who work here, what about them?” Sedwick’s voice almost sounded like a panicked whine.
Shrugging, Wyatt said, “The new buyer promises to keep everyone employed, so no one will lose out, and the family will get a small portion of the sale, so they should be happy as well. Everyone wins.”
“But this is my…your legacy,” Sedwick stressed. “This circus has been in our family for centuries. You can’t get rid of it.”
“And yet, I am. It’s time, and Gramps left the circus to me. It’s my decision.” Wyatt turned to April, and she smiled up at him. “I’ll see you inside. I need to get ready for the show.” He turned to Sedwick, Wyatt’s face a somber mask even with his jester’s paint. “I’m acting as ringmaster for the first and last time in honor of our grandfather. I’m dedicating this show to him.”
“Be careful,” April said, and she meant it in more ways than one. Their plan would put him in danger if Sedwick and Ingram acted like they expected. Three men had already died; four counting Wyatt’s dad, Samuel. She didn’t want Wyatt to be the fifth.
She watched him walk away, leaving her alone with a stupefied Sedwick. The smaller korrigan started to rush away. “I need to get ready myself. Enjoy the show.” However, he didn’t follow Wyatt into the big top, but rather went in the opposite direction. Hook, line, and sinker.
Pressing her lips together, she shook her head and then turned toward the tent. If the panic stretching Sedwick’s features were an honest indication, then at least the first part of their plan worked. Now to see if the second part was just as successful.
She slid past the trolls at the front entrance to the big top and entered the three-ring circus. As she made her way around the side to the bleachers, she glanced around, making sure everyone was in their places. Randall and his griffins perched on top of the high ropes around the top of the poles. Sebastian, Pascal, Toussaint, and the other gargoyles stood along the edges, ready to fly into motion as well if they succeeded. Alizon and Raveena sat on opposite sides of the tent, their magic at the ready. Patrick and Hodges stood at the animal entrance to the tent, and even from where she stood, April could see the skinny Hodges wringing his hands. Okay, so not everyone is ready.
“I knew this circus would go under,” Maren Applewood said as she stepped up beside April.
April turned to her, knowing her face was a mask of confusion as she felt her brows knit together. “What? Why on earth would you say that?”:
Maren shrugged, her lips pressed into a thin line. “Why else would they give everyone a free ticket?” She held her purse in both hands as she glanced around the place. “I can’t say I blame them. It does look kind of dreary in here.”
The wind howled around them, snatching at Maren’s shirt and tugging at the hem, mussing up her hair as she tried to hold it all in place with her hand, clutching her purse to her chest.
April just laughed, perfectly fine as the phantoms left her alone. “I kind of like it,” she said as she smiled and walked off to find a seat near the center ring. It was almost showtime.
“Ladies and gentlemen! Boys and girls!” Wyatt’s voice boomed from the center ring just as April took her seat next to Saroj and Principal Damien. Wyatt held his grandfather’s top hat in his hand, clutching it as he held his arms up, calling out to the crowd. “Welcome to the final show of Professor Compton’s Phantom Circus! Be prepared to be amazed! Dazzled! Mesmerized!” Every word he said reminded her of how she saw his grandfather that very first show; the way she saw him in her vision. Wyatt spun in the center ring, taking in the audience on all sides. Once he made a complete circle, he stopped, dropping his arms and holding his grandfather’s hat with both hands as he looked down at it. “We’re dedicating this show—our final show—to my late-grandfather, Professor Compton. He devoted his life to entertaining audiences all around the world, and sadly, his life was taken from us too early.” He glanced back up at the crowd. “So, tonight, our performers will put on the best performances you’ve ever seen, starting with the death-defying, the Amazing Sinestros!” He spun, indicating the ring to his left, just as the crowd screamed.
One of the griffins cried out; then another as they leaped from their spots, soaring down to the center ring.
April screamed as well, covering her mouth with her hand as she stared at the pole crumbling in front of her, one piece falling from the air, a support, with a metallic brace that attached it to the center pole, heading straight for Wyatt’s chest. April saw the lethal point, the lights bouncing off the tip as it aimed—aimed!—for its target.
Wyatt.
There was no other way to explain it, because the support didn’t fall straight down.
April couldn’t stop screaming.
Twenty-Six
The first thing Wyatt noticed was April’s hand flying to her mouth as she screamed, her eyes wide. Then the world around him exploded.
The gargoyles they had positioned in each of the corners shifted, sprouting wings and springing into the air, each to a different corner to hold up the crumpling tent. Randall and some of the other griffins lunged from their perches, their wings spread, talons out as they screamed into the chaos that erupted in the big top. A piece of support fell from the bale ring around the center pole, and Randall headed straight for it, his beak spread.
Wyatt shifted back to his normal appearance as he watched Randall crunch down on the long piece of wood. Another scream joined the others as the wood shifted in midair, arms and legs appearing from the sides and end of the wood, and the dark head of the lawyer, Samuel Finch, appearing at the other end. Randall had to release the man, trying to clutch him with his talons, but in his panic, Samuel kept ripping Randall’s feathers out of his body until the griffin squawked once more, and Samuel fell from Randall’s grasp.
The trolls and ogres raced to the center ring, pushing Wyatt out of the way as they braced to catch the falling man. The phantoms whipped themselves in a frenzy as they swarmed around Samuel, pulling at his clothing and hair as he fell, slowing his descent.
Looking around, Wyatt noticed Sedwick appearing between Patrick and Hodges, shoving his way through them as he ran for the middle ring. Patrick and Hodges sprinted after him.
Wyatt chanced a glance at April, who was now on her feet along with everyone else around her. No one rushed for the exits, however, standing as they all stared at the man falling through the air. Turning back to the lawyer, Wyatt watched as Samuel landed amid a tangle of arms as the trolls and ogres worked together to keep him from going splat, feathers falling around them, just like April saw in her vision.
“Are you all right?” Sedwick asked as he raced over to the lawyer, taking him in his hands, holding him at arms’ length as he looked the other man up and down. “What the hell happened?”
“What happened was, this time we knew an accident was more than probable and stopped it,” Wyatt said as he walked over to the two men. “And for someone you say you don’t like, you’re really concerned about Samuel’s well-being.”
“Especially since he just tried to kill Wyatt,” Patrick said as he gripped the lawyer, yanking him out of Sedwick’s grasp and jerking him around. “And killed Chester, Spence, Maver, and Wyatt’s father,” the man growled
as he pulled Samuel close, clutching the man’s shirt with both fists.
Out of the corner of his eye, Wyatt noticed April stepping up beside him, her hands over her chest as she stared at the slender man in Patrick’s grasp. Others followed her, Sebastian and Seraphine being two of them.
Wyatt pushed the gathered crowd out of his mind as he focused on Samuel. “You couldn’t get us to sell, so you thought killing us would help you get the circus? Why the hell would you want it that bad?”
Samuel jerked himself out of Patrick’s grasp. “I won’t allow you to sell the circus to anyone else,” the lawyer spat as he turned to face Wyatt. “I’ve offered fair prices every time. I deserve this circus.”
Wyatt crossed his arms over his chest as he cocked his head a little. He turned to Sedwick, even though he spoke to Samuel. “How did you know I intended to sell it to someone else?” He turned his gaze back to Samuel. “And why do you deserve it?” He shrugged. “Gramps didn’t think you deserved it. That’s why he cut you out of the will, isn’t it? Knowing my father could run it better than you could? Isn’t that right, Uncle?”
Samuel stared at him, but Sedwick dropped his gaze to the ground. Patrick growled and Hodges wrung his hands as he kept darting his gaze around at everyone. The cluster of people grew as the rest of the circus people gathered around Wyatt and the others. Even Chuckles, the Clown stood there, his face a scowl as he glared at Samuel.
The lawyer nodded and then shifted, his tall, thin body shrinking down to the round three-and-a-half foot body of a korrigan, his dark hair thickening into the shaggy mop that most korrigans possessed, his eyes turning a dark red as he glared at his nephew. “When did you figure out it was me?” he asked, brushing himself off.
Wyatt gestured to April. “When she saw your death,” he replied.
“His what?” Sedwick asked, his voice a high pitch.
Wyatt nodded, glancing at Sedwick a moment. “I told you last night. April’s a banshee; it was she who visited you in the night, warning you of your father’s death.” He turned back to his Uncle Ingram. “And trust me, once she sees it, it’s bound to happen.” He snatched one of the feathers off the ground, turning it over in his hand as he stared at it. “I think it was supposed to happen here, but the trolls and ogres caught you, the phantoms slowing your fall.” He glanced back up, a sadness pulling at his chest. “But don’t think that spares you. I know from experience, once a banshee sees a person’s death, that person is fated to die. The sad part is, now you’ll probably die in prison.” He turned to Sedwick, shaking his head. “And you won’t be around to say goodbye, because you’ll be in jail as well.”