Freaky Reapers (A Mystic Caravan Mystery Book 8)

by Amanda M. Lee

  He ignored the sarcasm. “My name is Maxwell Anderson. Eventually, if I like you, I’ll allow you to call me Max. You’re not there yet. But you might get there.”

  “Oh, yeah? Neat-o.” I needed to get away from this guy something fierce. He was weird.

  “I own Mystic Caravan Circus,” he volunteered. “I would like to talk to you about a job.”

  His con turned interesting, and I was curious to see where it would go. “I don’t turn tricks for the circus either.”

  “That’s not what I have in mind.” He studied my face for a long time and then tucked my arm through his. “Come along. I’ll buy you dinner and you can tell me about yourself. I think we have a lot to discuss.”

  He was a pushy old thing, but I was hungry. “Okay, but if you try anything, I’ll hack your thing off.”

  Instead of being disgusted, he laughed. “I think we’re going to get along famously.”

  That made one of us.

  1

  One

  Present Day

  Detroit.

  I didn’t like returning. I hadn’t been here in years. The return trips with Mystic Caravan Circus were few and far between, and I was fine with that.

  Still, this was my home. Technically. Of course, I didn’t think of it that way. The circus was my home now. Max made it my home when he saw something in me that others didn’t. Then, the people I met with the circus became my family. I was comfortable traveling now. Being on the road was freeing. If I didn’t like my location I only had to wait a week. Then I would be someplace new.

  I’d seen most of the continental United States with the circus. I’d broadened my horizons, enhanced my knowledge and learned about being a real person. Being back where it all started, where my journey began, was unnerving.

  I don’t get nervous, yet I couldn’t stop staring out the window. I wouldn’t even recognize the faces any longer. A decade can change a person. Still, I expected to find a familiar one on the street corners as we passed. I couldn’t stop searching.

  My boyfriend Kade Denton was a different story. His eyes were keen, too, as he navigated the Detroit streets. He was out of his element. He wasn’t used to a gritty city like this. He grew up in California, for crying out loud. Even their grittiest city couldn’t compare to Detroit.

  There was nothing in the world comparable to Detroit.

  “You look like you’re about to hop out of the window and run away,” he noted as he frowned at the brake lights igniting in front of us. “What’s this?”

  I shifted my eyes out the front windshield and shrugged. “Probably an accident ... or maybe road construction. Michigan has the worst roads in the country. There’s always road construction.”

  “The worst roads, huh?” He looked amused. “That’s quite a claim.”

  “It’s true. Look it up.”

  “I just might do that.” His hand snaked over the console and rested on top of mine. “Why are you so agitated?”

  I’d been expecting the question. That didn’t mean I was prepared to answer it. “I’m not agitated.”

  “I’ve never seen you this jittery before. It’s ... interesting.”

  I liked the word “jittery” even less than “agitated.” My temper was raw today and I had to bite back a hot retort. “I’m not jittery either. I’m just ... taking it all in.”

  “You grew up here.”

  “I remember.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  Kade is the sensitive sort. I think it comes from being raised by a single mother. She taught him that emotions weren’t to be feared. She was gone now. It was her death that spurred Kade to join the circus. At the time, he thought he was merely accepting a lucrative offer from a family friend. It turned out that “friend” was actually his father.

  Max, the man who had plucked me from the street and gave me everything I never thought I would have, only recently had the chance to bond with Kade on a familial level. Their relationship was still a work in progress. It was going better than it had been, though, and I was grateful for that.

  “Tell you what?” I asked, genuinely curious. “What is it that you want to hear?”

  Kade arched an eyebrow. He obviously recognized the edge to my voice. “Only what you’re comfortable with. Talking about it might make you feel better.”

  “I don’t feel bad.”

  He heaved out a sigh. I recognized it for what it was. He was getting tired of my attitude. I didn’t blame him. “Poet,” he started on an exasperated note. He didn’t follow it up with anything, so I merely stared at him.

  “This relationship thing we both seem to enjoy so much only works when we confide in one another,” he said finally, his tone even and measured. “I thought we agreed to open up to one another so there would be no secrets.”

  Now he was playing dirty. “I’m not keeping anything from you.”

  “Except the reason you’re so upset.”

  “I’m not upset!” I practically exploded. Only the seatbelt kept me from hopping on top of the dashboard. It was at that moment that I realized he was right. I was completely out of control. Taking out my anxiety on him was not only unfair, it was ridiculous. I had to get it together. “Fine. It’s just ... I keep thinking I’m going to see them.”

  “Who are you talking about?” He shot me a look before turning back to the road. “Your parents died when you were a kid. I didn’t think you were fond of any of your foster families. Are you afraid of seeing the people who took care of you?”

  “No. Although ... I really don’t want to see them either.” That was the truth.

  “Did they hurt you?” His gaze was dark, his knuckles white as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

  “No. I ran away before anything like that could happen,” I reassured him. “I’m not keeping some deep, dark secret that would crush your soul. You don’t have to worry about that.”

  “I can’t help but worry. I love you.”

  Even though I was determined to remain in a foul mood, my lips curved upward, unbidden. That was a new thing. Admitting we loved each other, I mean. It was only recently, at a stop in northern Lower Michigan, that we’d professed our feelings. It still felt like a novelty, which wasn’t entirely bad.

  “And I love you.” Just saying the words released some of the pressure building in my chest. “I don’t mean to be a pill. It’s just ... this place isn’t exactly full of good memories.”

  “That’s why I want you to talk about it. If you tell me, the memories won’t be haunting shadows in the back of your mind any longer. You’ll be able to let them go and move forward. I want that more than anything for you.”

  He wasn’t the only one. Oh, hell, it was worth a shot. “When I ran away, I was in a home in the suburbs. We’re talking about five miles north of Detroit. It wasn’t like this.”

  Kade grimaced as he moved forward a few feet, his eyes immediately going to the abandoned building to his left. “I certainly hope not.”

  His distaste made me feel better for some reason. “It’s not so bad when you’re used to it. I mean ... the city has its struggles. I’ve read a few articles online. It’s seeing a revitalization of sorts.”

  “Oh, yeah?” He didn’t look convinced. “There’s a prostitute over there trying to solicit the revitalized mailman.”

  I followed his finger and shrugged. “She has to make a living.”

  Realization dawned on his handsome features and a bit of color drained from his face. “Did you have to ... ?” He couldn’t even finish the sentence.

  I leveled a hard gaze on him. “How would that make you feel?”

  It wasn’t a denial, which is what he wanted. “It would make me feel really sad,” he said on a breathy exhale. “It wouldn’t change how I feel about you. Nothing will. It’s just ... I never really thought about it. You were a minor making your way on the streets. How did you survive?”

  It was a fair question. It’s the first everyone asks. “I didn’t engage in
the life,” I replied after a beat. “Not that life, at least. I knew a few people who had no choice. Surviving out here isn’t easy. People get broken down by the system and they find themselves doing things they wouldn’t normally do. For me, that came in the form of picking Max’s pocket.”

  “You’ve mentioned that before.” Kade’s smile was charming. “But I’ve never heard the story in full detail.”

  Telling him the story of Max was better than telling him the other stuff, so I acquiesced. “It was a weird day. A guy I knew had just died and we were warned away from the alley we slept in.”

  He frowned. “You were sleeping in an alley?”

  I was amused despite myself. “How did you imagine living on the street worked? Did you think I checked into a hotel every night? If so, then you’re Hollywood-ing it up. We slept on the street ... or in parks ... or sometimes in abandoned buildings, but that brought on a different set of problems.”

  “What sort of problems?”

  Internally, I sighed. It appeared we were going to get into this after all. “The drug dealers used the buildings for buys. The prostitutes used the buildings for tricks. The bangers used the buildings for merchandise exchanges.

  “If you were lucky, you could find a building that no one wanted to do business in, but those were usually so run down that you didn’t want to risk staying in them. The floors had gaping holes, rats had built nests and the druggies were likely to take them over.

  “There were entire buildings in the Cass Corridor that had hundreds of druggies taking up real estate inside ... and when they overdosed and died, they were just moved to a corner and forgotten about,” I continued, my mind traveling back. “The people I hung with were generally young, so it wasn’t safe to stay in those buildings. If you did, you risked rape and a few other things, because people got so high they forgot who and what they were.”

  Kade’s mouth dropped open. “And you thought it was better to stay on the street than in a foster home? Why didn’t you report what you suspected and get a different placement?”

  “It doesn’t work that way. They need actionable information. I didn’t have it. I couldn’t exactly tell them I saw flashes from the guy’s mind with my telepathic powers. They would’ve put me in a hospital ... and believe it or not, those are actually worse.”

  “Oh.” He looked sick to his stomach. We were still stuck in traffic, so keeping up the conversation seemed the only viable option. He wouldn’t simply let me drop it now anyway.

  “It wasn’t all bad,” I reassured him. “No, really. I had a small group of friends. I was even tight with another girl. Creek. She was ... not meant for street life. She couldn’t go back home because her mother’s boyfriend was a rapist. Her mother chose to believe the boyfriend over her daughter, so Creek made a break for it.

  “When she first showed up, she had big plans,” I continued. “She thought she would be able to get a decent job at a Starbucks or something. She was convinced it wouldn’t be difficult. She didn’t realize that nobody wants to hire someone who doesn’t have a permanent address. We all went together to get a post office box at one point, but that didn’t help.”

  “What happened to her?”

  That was a good question. “I don’t know. I was looking for her the night I met Max. There was a lot going on. Noble was dead and there was a question about whether it was suicide or murder. Shadow warned me to stay away from the alley for at least that night because he was convinced the cops would consider us suspects.”

  “Shadow? Noble? These can’t be real names.”

  “Most people on the street don’t use their real names,” I replied. “The general rule is that you pick a name that fits your personality.”

  “You named yourself?”

  “Yes.”

  “What was your name?”

  “Poet. No one realized it was my real name. They thought I chose it because I was always jotting down ideas and stuff in a notebook. They assumed it was poetry. In reality, it was my plan for getting out. I couldn’t tell them that, because it’s considered bad luck to give voice to future hopes and dreams.”

  “Why is that?”

  I shrugged. I honestly didn’t have the answer. “The street has rules. You either learn them fast or get used up. I had an advantage. I could read people’s minds — even though I was still figuring out how all that worked — and it was easier for me than others.

  “Anyway, Shadow hung with a biker gang,” I said, returning to the story. It was best to get it over with now. “They were pretty rough guys and almost killed him at one point. We found him and nursed him back to health. I could tell he was a good guy under all that leather. Plus, well, he was really hot.”

  Kade’s eyes turned suspicious. “You had a crush on a biker dude?”

  “What can I say? The heart wants what the heart wants,” I teased, poking his side. “He wasn’t a bad guy. After he got better, he was always checking in on us. He would bring us food and toiletries. He didn’t want the other bikers to know, because he thought it would make him look weak. We kept his secret, and he gave us a helping hand when he could.”

  “And Noble?”

  “He was a Gulf War vet who had a few quirks. He was a drunk, which didn’t help matters, but he had legitimate mental problems. Someone should’ve been available to help him. I realize that now. Then, he was just a funny guy we often checked on.

  “He was hanging from an overpass when I last saw him,” I continued. “I don’t know if he did it to himself or not, but at the time I didn’t think it was possible because he wasn’t suicidal in the days leading up to his death. Now I realize that doesn’t necessarily mean anything.

  “Shadow warned us that one of the drug dealers could’ve taken him out. He was quiet, so he often saw things we missed. It’s possible he was right. Groove was there that night, I remember. He was the gangbanger who ran that particular turf. He never gave us grief, because he liked to use us for cover.

  “I remember that Creek was off with Tawny, a prostitute who was teaching her the tricks of the trade,” I said, my mind working fast as I embraced the memory for the first time in a long while. “I was on my way to find her — I had Junk and Hazy with me — and I ran into Max. I picked his pocket out of habit. I had other things on my mind at the time.

  “I ran things a specific way back then,” I explained. “I would use my powers to make my marks believe nothing was happening. That’s what I was doing with Max when he caught me. He seemed amused more than anything else. He was also intrigued. He invited me for a meal, which I quickly turned down, but he was persistent.”

  “Did you leave with him that night?”

  “Essentially. I had dinner with him, listened to his spiel, and then said I needed time to think. I went looking for Creek but I didn’t find her. I went back to the alley to take a look and found Shadow was right. The area was crawling with cops. They were questioning Groove when I made my decision, and he was pointing the finger at street kids who often stayed in the alley.

  “The thing is, I didn’t want to end up like Tawny and I thought that was a legitimate possibility if I didn’t catch a break,” I continued. “I also didn’t want to end up like Noble. That was another possibility. If I wanted a chance to break from the cycle, I had to find a way out. Max was offering me a way out.

  “Sure, he could’ve been a pervert walling off his mind so I couldn’t read it, but I had a good feeling about him. The idea of joining the circus was kind of fun. I figured if it didn’t work out I could always return ... or find a warmer climate to live in. That’s a constant dream on the street, because the winters are brutal.”

  “I can’t believe you lived like that,” Kade noted. “That’s just not how I see you.”

  “I’m not the same person I was. Max changed things for me. Then Luke changed them even more. And you, well, you changed them a lot, too. I wouldn’t even recognize the girl I was if she was standing right in front of me.”

  “
What about your friends? I mean ... did you say goodbye to them?”

  “I said goodbye to Junk and Hazy because they were the only ones I could find. Shadow was in the biker bar and I couldn’t risk it. I left a letter for Creek and Shadow with Junk, but I’m not sure they ever got it. Heck, I’m not sure if Creek ever came back to find me. She might’ve moved on.”

  “Or something might’ve happened to her,” he surmised. “You said her life was going a certain way. It’s probably best that you got out when you did.”

  I couldn’t argue with that. “Yeah. But I can’t help but wonder if they’re still here. When I think about them, they’re still kids and young adults. I’m not sure any of them had the wherewithal to get out.”

  “You did.” He squeezed my hand. “That’s the most important thing. You got out and you’re here with me. You don’t have to dwell on the past when the future looks so bright. You don’t have to hide yourself away from me either. If you feel nervous and agitated, tell me. We can talk about anything.”

  The words warmed me all over. “Thanks. I guess I was more amped than I realized.”

  “Just a little.”

  “I’m okay now.” I mostly meant it. “It’s weird being back.”

  “I can see that.”

  2

  Two

  It took us a full hour longer than it should have to reach the fairgrounds. We were being lodged on the former Michigan state fairgrounds, an area in downtown Detroit that featured interesting buildings and green space plopped down in the middle of an urban jungle. The grass and foliage was something of a luxury in an industrial city that was as old as Detroit.

  “This isn’t so bad,” Kade noted as we exited his truck. He lifted his arms over his head and stretched, his back popping a few times as he sent me a slow grin. “I was expecting a lot worse.”

  “That’s because you believe what the media has to say about Detroit,” I countered. “It’s not as bad as you think. It probably couldn’t be as bad as you think. There are pockets of revitalization.”