A Fear of Clowns (The Greasepaint Chronicals)

by P. S. Power

  Chapter eleven

  It felt strange to him, going to find his daughter. It had been a long while since he'd seen her, about two and a half years. Lynn hadn't bothered to move out of their old house, but then why would she? It was paid for, and nicer than most in the area. A real building, with four bedrooms and two baths. The dream house that she'd always insisted she wanted. He'd walked away, and just let them have it, so that Alex wouldn't be hurt any more than the situation required. It wasn't enough, he knew.

  The place looked about the same, when Daniels pulled the big dark colored car up in front of it. White, because Lynn had insisted for some reason when they'd gotten it that it had to be that color. Nice too. He'd worked hard to make the whole thing exactly the way she wanted it. Back then his whole life had been like that. Jay would work all day, and then in the evenings and on the weekends, he'd spend time with his daughter, while he arranged things to exactly the way his wife wanted them. It had seemed loving at the time, like he was being a good husband. The best father he could be.

  Now it had a more sinister aspect to it. Live in maid, handyman and babysitter, as well as provider. A dupe too dense to think the worst about someone else. She'd said she loved him, and being a bit more trusting then, or perhaps a lot more, he'd just accepted that, and felt lucky to have her.

  It had changed, over the last years. There were struggling weeds in the front, and the place held a dingy quality that made it seem like no one had touched the outside of it much. Not to keep it looking nice and sharp. The walkway, which was paved with real stones that he'd spent two weekends collecting, nearly ten years before, still seemed nice. They were in different colors, but even. Not smooth, but natural looking. He could have just gone to the Home Depot, but again, he'd wanted it to seem special. For her. For Alex, too.

  Part of Jason wanted to just sit in the car, and not go in. For some reason, even knowing it wasn't true, he kept expecting Lynn to come out and start screaming at him. That, or pretending to be sweet while making yet another demand on him. Warping his ability to understand what a healthy and normal relationship really was. To complain that he hadn't paid a bill on time, or that the trash needed to be taken out, and that his full time job was no excuse for that to have not happened yet. Even if she'd been home all day.

  The FBI agents called his reticence however with their own action, just climbing out to walk up to the place, looking around professionally, in case it was a trap. He hoped not, because that would mean his little girl was in trouble. That thought got him to move too, forgetting that he was still dressed for work. Like a hobo. Empty handed as well. He should have brought her something. A teddy bear, or an IPad. That part of things just left him sighing as he went to the front, nearly stumbling over the very stones that he'd put in place, all those years before. They were unfamiliar now, and he was still reeling from the drugs in his system. Really, he probably should have gone to the hospital. It was just that years of experience had taught him that places like that weren't where you went for help. Not with chemical problems. Time would fix it. Or you died. Since he hadn't stopped breathing the day before, he'd probably be fine.

  That didn't mean he wasn't still feeling the effects of the Rohypnol. The halflife of it in his system was probably just past. That meant he wouldn't be clean for at least another day. Maybe more. Walking up to the door, he held back a bit, straightening his wrinkled brown jacket, and then fixing the daisy on his lapel. He looked ridiculous, but didn't have time, or the means, to change into something else.

  McNab used a large dark skinned hand to knock, his demeanor relaxed. It wasn't a big deal to either of the agents. Just to Jay. He felt his breath close off, and his heart pound. There was no way that she wouldn't hate him, was there? Not really. He'd abandoned her. Worse, even when he'd been sitting behind convenience stores, drinking cheap wine, he'd always known that. That part of things wasn't a question in his mind, and never had been. Jay had been so sickened by what had been done to him that he'd left a little girl with a woman that he wasn't totally sure was sane. She had to be a psychopath, in order to sell an act like that for so long, didn't she?

  Lynn was probably not a good and healthy person, at any rate, and Jason Hadley had just left a girl that he thought of as his own to her. Like she didn't matter. That wasn't the truth, but he fully expected to be hated for that one. Gasping softly enough that he hoped no one heard him, he waited for the door to open. When it did he barely recognized the girl behind it. She was young, but tall and thin. About five-six. Pretty, but very normal looking. Her hair was a soft brown, and so were her eyes. She looked nice, and was wearing blue jeans and a sweater. She didn't seem to have anything but her ears pierced, and no visible tattoos. For some reason he expected her to have pink hair and be dressed like one of the street girls from Vegas. That she wasn't, that her face was polite and adult seeming, shocked him to no end.

  Then she moved around McNab, to look at him. The FBI men both got out of the way, neither smiling.

  "Daddy?" She didn't seem to recognize him. He was ready for that. It had been a long time and she'd been young. Not a baby, but...

  The hug that came then was nearly a tackle.

  "Daddy!" There was real happiness in her voice then, as he found himself patting her back.

  "Hey, honey. Sorry it took me so long." Too long by far. That rang out in the subtext of his words, he hoped, but strangely, at least so far, the girl didn't seem to be requiring him to explain it all. That would come. Even if she didn't ask, she deserved to understand why.

  The problem there was that, while he could go over everything, all his actions, thoughts and feelings, none of it was really good enough. It was the answer, but a weak thing, that wouldn't satisfy anyone. Most of life was filled with things like that, wasn't it? He struggled to find answers and always had, but most of the time they eluded him. The best he did, in most cases, was find out what had happened, by digging and researching hard enough.

  Now he searched his daughter's face, and noticed how much she looked like her mother. Carl too, through the nose and eyes. Like Mills.

  It was another piece, wasn't it? She really did look like the man. The one that had taken his boss, and her mother. A man that had been kidnapping men and women together, practicing for this thing that he was doing now. If Jay was right. It was a guess, but it felt correct. It made a certain amount of sense. Then, theories always did, or they wouldn't have been tried out in the first place.

  Daniels smiled, and looked at both of them as if it was a good thing. A real reunion, made bitter only by the missing woman. Lynn. Jay couldn't really care about that however. It would have been best if he did, but it wasn't something he honestly felt. Even with her being in the clutches of a serial killer, it seemed fitting. Especially if what he suspected was right.

  If that was the case however, he wasn't going to talk about it in front of Alex. It was his job to protect her from things like that. Hard truths and bad things that would make her possibly think less of her own mother. Then he shook his head. That was the mistake that everyone always made, wasn't it? They lied, or held back things that were probably best put out instantly. People could cope with the truth, but they had to know it first.

  "Alex?" Standing back he took a deep breath, and then looked at the girl. His daughter, no matter what some test said. Then he glanced over at the FBI men. "Can you pack a bag? We need to get out of here. To someplace safe. I have friends we can stay with. It... Your mother, and Carl Morse, they may have both been kidnapped. By a serial killer. Carl Mills? The deputy?" It occurred to him that his daughter might actually know the man. She knew Richmond.

  Jay just hoped to God that she didn't have a crush on him, or something.

  "What? I know you said, but... he was always so nice. We talked about stuff. What a crummy mom I have and how pathetic the Sheriff is, with what they both did to you. Like, real friends, you know?" She seemed concerned at least, but then made a face. "He always told me I was like the lit
tle sister he never had. So, it wasn't all creepy or anything. He was just... nice."

  Jay nodded and looked at the FBI men, who both seemed closed off. A bit brooding really, but neither of them seemed to blame him for giving all of that away.

  So he went on. That last bit fit too well, didn't it? Why would some Sheriff's Deputy call a young girl his sister like that? Well, so that she wouldn't get the wrong idea and start writing his name with hearts around it on her school binders, of course. A good man might have done that just for that sort of reason. Mills wasn't a good man, strictly speaking, was he? Maybe being bad in one way didn't translate to every other part of his life, but it really did fit.

  "I... I don't know for certain, but I think he might have taken your mother and Carl for abandoning him when he was a boy. Probably dumping him on someone else. He mentioned having a mean step-mother to me once. We should probably find Lynn's parents and ask about that. They live in the area, but... I've only talked to them a few times. At the wedding, then when you were born, Alex. After that... Well, they weren't the kind of people to just pop over for a visit."

  He was trying to break in the idea gently, but everyone standing there got what he meant, instantly. They were all smart people, after all.

  McNab looked away, and then made a hard face.

  "That... Well, we don't have proof that it's the case. It's a place to start. Can you get names and numbers for them? Those parents. We also need to run down anyplace that connects to any of them. All of you. He has to have taken them somewhere. My guess is that it will be someplace meaningful to him. Mills. He always picked a certain kind of property. Isolated places that-"

  It was Alex that guessed the next bit, her lips going white with stress.

  "So that no one would hear the screams?"

  Daniels grunted, but didn't shield her either. "That's the thought. We need to get to work. McNab, start making calls. We can drop you two someplace, if it isn't too far out of the way?" That was addressed at Jason, and he really only had one place in the world to go. Well, two now, but they'd have to catch a ride back to Las Vegas, when it was time to go. He didn't know how he was going to keep his daughter with him, but he planned on doing it. Even if he had to break the law to get it done.

  Carlos and Wendy, to his vast surprise, were still there, not having left yet for the day. They were gearing up for it, packing their van, when Daniels pulled up to the house. The short man looked over, his face hard at first, until he saw Jay. Then he smiled and raised a hand in greeting, walking over as Jason got out. Alex followed him, her single little bag in her hand, clearly planning for at least an overnight stay someplace. They could get a room for her at the casino, if they could catch a ride.

  "Jason! Is everything all right? We got a call from Max..." He looked at the FBI men, distrustful of them, as if they weren't the good guys. They really were though. Smart enough to figure things out too. They just had different priorities. Their goal was trying to save Carl and Lynn. Jay's was looser than that. He wanted to find out why, of course, but needed to protect his girl first and foremost.

  So he shorthanded everything as Daniels pulled out, McNab still on the phone in the passenger's seat, having research done even if they didn't have a computer with them. Having resources like that had to be nice, didn't it?

  "This is my daughter, Alexis. Her mom and the Sheriff have been kidnapped by a serial killing clown. Deputy Mills. He might be their son. I'm not certain of that." It felt right, but some family resemblance aside, he'd need a DNA test for confirmation.

  Wendy had walked up to hear all of that, and looked at Carlos, nervously. She didn't ask them to leave though, just looking at Alex and then walking over to give her a hug.

  "I'm Wendy and this is Carlos. I guess we're family? We kind of adopted Jay, so... What do you need? You can stay here, or... we have some money saved up." She looked at her husband, who nodded, as if to let her know that was exactly the right thing to say.

  Jay had to swallow, tears threatening to come then.

  "I... Could you take Alex with you? To Vegas? I have some work to do here. The FBI men are smart, but I think I might find some things that can help too. Coming at this from another angle. I just don't want her to be a target." He meant his daughter, which they all understood. It was, in the end, the most important thing. Getting her out of the way.

  If she was with Carlos and Wendy, well, that wasn't invisible, but it would take a while to track her down and hopefully between the FBI and him, they could keep Mills busy enough that he wouldn't think to go after her. It might be a little dangerous for him, if he got in the way, but for some reason Jason didn't think that was the truth. The insane killer wanted him to do something.

  To try and understand why this was all happening. To be the witness that would live on, and make it all worthwhile.

  Still, the man wasn't exactly right in the head, was he? Dressing up like a clown to commit his crimes like he did. That had to be unbalanced. Definitely bananas, Jay thought, looking down at his bare feet. He needed shoes. Probably a change of clothing too, but he didn't have anything left there, having planned to never come back. He'd live.

  Carlos looked at his feet too and frowned, so he explained.

  "Mills took my shoes. The new ones that I'd gotten for my act. He drugged me and left me duct taped in my hotel room. Luckily security came to check on me."

  The little man nodded, as if that made sense. It did, because they were nice shoes, if only for someone like him. They were totally wrong for killing people in. Big and floppy, making squeaks as you walked.

  Wendy patted Alex on the shoulder again, her red hair waving a little in the light wind, the day bright and warming already, as early as it still was.

  "Of course she can stay with us. We should get going now. You should come too, Jay. Let the FBI handle this. It's their job. I can't see that it's even your business." There was a slightly scared, but matter of fact air to the words, and Carlos seemed to agree, but Jason knew that he couldn't live with himself if he didn't at least try to do something. Even if it wasn't much, the act of attempting to help was enough for his long term peace of mind.

  "Don't worry, I'm not planning to do anything too stupid. Just make some calls and possibly visit some people. Nothing too big. When this is all over, we're going to want to understand why it happened. Things are hazy still. So, you know, it's time for me to step up and do what I do best. And no..." He smiled at his friends and then winked, using his silly stage voice to say the words. "That isn't being a clown. I'll get a rental car and meet you in the city, probably later tonight. This won't take long. Tomorrow at the latest. I don't want another run in with the wacked out clown, so being far from here sounds like a great plan." Smiling, he nodded, trying to convince them of his sanity.

  Not that he was all that sure of it himself. Really, if he had more friends, he could do what McNab had done and call information in. Who did he have though? Greg back at the casino? He might help, but there probably wasn't a lot that the man could do for him. No, he had to do his own footwork. It meant stopping to buy some shoes first.

  He helped them finish loading the van, the silver and blue thing that didn't say anything on the outside. For all they'd been willing to take him too, it was a good thing that he wasn't going, since Alex had to sort of squeeze in, being partially buried under a few of the softer props. There was no way that he'd fit too, without leaving things behind. Before they could take off again, Carlos came over and put his hand up, to shake. It was a very formal thing, and different than what he would have expected.

  "Be careful. I get the idea, that you need to see this through, but don't be a hero. Or if you have to be, do it the smart way, and get the professionals to do the heavy lifting. You loved her, once, so I guess you have to do what you can now, but remember to think of yourself, too. You're important to us." It wasn't said grudgingly, but sounded choked off at the end and a tiny bit dismal. Like he thought Jay was going to rush in and fight
the man himself or some piece of stupidity like that.

  If so, then his best friend in the whole world didn't know him that well. For one thing, he seemed to think that this was about Lynn. It wasn't. It was about the mystery. The how and even more, the why, of it all. Wendy gave him a hug, and so did his daughter, who whispered in his ear.

  "I'm sorry. This isn't your problem. You should come with us." Her voice was so reasonable he nearly just did it. It really wasn't anything he needed to be worried about, was it?

  "Go, go, I'll be along in a bit. I only have two or three things to do, anyway."

  They went, which made him feel a bit sad. He'd just gotten his daughter back, only to send her away. To protect her from a sicko killer, but alone, with people that she'd never even met before. Good ones, but how was she supposed to process everything? It probably felt like he was abandoning her again.

  This was what he considered as he called to set up a car delivery, only to find that it was harder than that. In the end he had to weather strange looks from the cab driver he called, and then the disdain of the woman at the rental place. It took from nearly six in the morning to noon, just to have a car and shoes on his feet. He wore them out of the store, a Wal-Mart. The black running shoes were the kind that hooked in place with Velcro. Easy to put on, and dorky enough looking to fit his hobo appearance. Not that he cared about that. Except that he did. His shopping was all done in character. It made it easier, somehow. Less silly, by turning it into part of a show.

  So, at noon he realized that he didn't have anything to do. In desperation he tried to call Lynn's parents, but after he said who it was, her father just hung up on him. Clearly the FBI had already called, and just as clearly, the parents didn't think that much of their own child. The man sounded angry when Jay called back again, at least.

  "Bill. This is important, and I don't have time to do this all day. I just need to know something. Who is Carl Mills?" That got the man to stop screaming into the phone, and then slam it down again. Still, his wife picked up on his next call, moments later, her voice smooth and a bit thick, like she'd been crying.