Before She Dies (17 page)
Frankenstein’s eyes narrowed. “I see you got an attitude to go with the suit. Mariah was like that. All attitude. Don’t forget where you came from.”
“Believe me, I haven’t.” But it wasn’t for lack of trying.
He looked as if he had more to say when a little boy and his parents approached Obie.
“Can we take your picture, Mr. Frankenstein?” the kid’s mom said.
Obie, annoyed by the interruption, knew better than to break character in front of a customer. That was Grady’s number one rule: never disappoint the customer.
Nodding and grunting, Frankenstein raised his arms and grunted just like the movie character.
As the boy stood grinning in front of his monster and the dad snapped pictures, Charlotte moved away from him, letting the crowd swallow her. She continued to meander down the center aisle closer and closer to the Madame Divine tent. She thought she could see Sooner, maybe caution her about the article’s exposure when she gave her the revised lease.
As she approached, she heard Sooner chanting in a low throaty voice that sounded, well, possessed. Intrigued, Charlotte ducked inside the tent and stood in the background as Sooner took the hand of the woman sitting before her. In her late fifties, the woman had graying hair that framed a round face made paler by a bright pumpkin-colored sweatshirt.
Sooner clutched the woman’s hand and with her eyes closed said, “I am seeing your husband. He is smiling.”
The woman cleared her throat. “He is? Is he smiling at me?”
“He is. And he wants me to tell you that he misses you very much.”
The lady drew in a sharp breath. “Tell him that I’ve missed him, too. He really was the best husband in the world.”
Sooner swayed back and forth as she held her hand. “And he says you were the best wife.” Slowly she opened her eyes. She glanced briefly past the woman to Charlotte but her gaze darted back so quickly it was doubtful the woman noticed. “Is there a question you would like to ask him?”
“No, no question.”
“I’m seeing the color red. Was that an important color to him?”
“No, I don’t think so. He did like to hunt.”
“Perhaps what I’m seeing is his own passion for you. He misses your touch.”
The lady nodded and softly began to weep. Sooner pulled out a tissue and handed it to the woman. “I am so glad we were able to connect with your husband, Herbert. It’s not always so easy to reach into the other world.”
“Thank you so much for trying.”
“I have one more message from Herbert.”
“Yes?”
“He does not want you to be alone. He wants you to talk to the nice man at church who likes you more than you realize.”
“He does?”
“Yes.” She straightened her shoulders. “Now that will be thirty dollars.”
The woman opened her cloth purse and pulled out two twenties. “Keep the change.”
“That is very generous of you.” Sooner slid the money in the locked box that Grady always provided. One of his first lessons was to get the money under lock and key.
The woman rose and, dabbing her eyes, passed by Charlotte without a glance.
Sooner waited until the woman was well clear of the tent before she rose and stretched the kinks from her back. “Going to be a long night.”
Charlotte crossed into the room and took the seat opposite Sooner. This close, she could see that the girl had a knack for applying the makeup. She looked exotic without cosmetics, but with them, looked very ethereal. “Why didn’t you get payment right up front?”
“I did. That extra thirty was a last-minute add-on. I could have asked for it up front but suspected if I waited I’d get a good tip.”
“You might not have gotten paid.”
“She’s not the type to skip.”
“How can you tell?”
“Just her aura, I guess.”
“And the guy at church. How’d you hit that one?”
“The cross around her neck, and when she first arrived, she mentioned she’d be going to a church social. The blue eye shadow and rouge looked clumsy as if she’d applied it for the first time in years. Chicks, no matter how old they are, will preen for a man.”
“Nice.”
She leaned back in her chair. “So how is it sitting on the other side of this table?”
“Grady told you about me.”
“He told me you and my mother worked the tent back in the day.”
“What did he tell you about your mother?”
“Pretty. Drowned right after I was born.”
“She loved you.”
“Really?” The word sounded brittle enough to snap. “We don’t talk about her much.”
“I can tell you about her.”
Sooner drew in a breath. “No.”
When Charlotte moved to rebut, Sooner said, “Sorry again about the missed appointment. I was looking at paint colors and lost track of time. So what’s the bottom line on the lease?”
Charlotte sensed she’d hit a nerve in the kid and backed off. She gave her a detailed rundown of the lease. “You going to follow my advice?”
She reached below the folds of the tablecloth and pulled out a diet soda. She took a long sip and then hid it again.
“Some of it. Not all.”
“It’s all sound advice, Sooner. You should take it all.”
“I might not have a deal if I play hardball with the landlord.”
Charlotte crossed her legs. “Don’t sell yourself short.”
“I don’t.” The girl possessed maturity far beyond her years.
“I saw the article in the paper.”
“Good press, I’d say.”
“For Grady.”
“And for me.”
“He’s put you out here like bait for a killer.”
She cocked her head. “It’s a bit we started doing this season in a lot of small towns. Pick a murder or crime and announce it can be solved.”
“My God, Sooner, do you know how dangerous that is?”
“We’ve never had trouble before.”
“Have you read the articles about Diane Young?”
“No.” The girl glanced down and back up, a sign she felt defensive.
“She did not die easily, Sooner.” Charlotte’s words were clear, direct, and intended to be cutting. “Whoever killed her was making a statement.”
She shrugged, indicating the event did not hold much interest. “I’m not trying to be hard, but bad things happen. That doesn’t mean they’ll happen to me.”
“Grady paraded you in the paper as some kind of psychic detective. If I saw it, there is a good chance the killer did.”
Her chin tipped up a fraction. “I am going to be fine. Grady says it’s good for business.” Again another shrug. “Look, I’m the first to admit the guy can be a dick, but he does know how to drum up business and I want people to know who I am.”
“There are better ways, Sooner.”
“I don’t have huge cash reserves. I’ve got to hit the ground running and make money.” The girl ran long impatient fingers through her hair. She glanced toward the opening of the tent and saw a man hovering. “Look, I got a customer so I got to jet.”
Charlotte glanced toward the opening. The man standing there was tall, lean, and wore jeans and a plain T-shirt. He could have been anybody. The killer was likely just anybody, someone no one ever noticed. The man who’d attacked her several years ago looked like just anybody. “Sooner, you need to back off this.”
Sooner smiled at the man at the tent entrance and beckoned him in with the wave of her fingers. “You are not my mother,” she said, still smiling at the man. “I appreciate what you did with the lease thing, but you need to back off. Now.”
The man hovered just behind Charlotte, and she could smell the strong scent of Old Spice.
“Is it my turn?” he said.
Sooner’s smile exploded with brightness and welcome. “Yes. Have a seat. This lady was just finished.”
Charlotte stared at the young girl. A part of her wanted to grab her by the wrist and pull her out of this tent. But her carefully cultivated logical side understood that Sooner was eighteen and a legal adult. Whatever rights Charlotte had had to the girl, she’d abdicated long ago.
She moved out of the tent, realizing that with Sooner, rights or no, this was not a retreat but a retrench. Like it or not, she had an obligation to the kid.
She scanned the carnival and quickly spotted Grady’s trailer on the outskirts. During the day, he could be found there, balancing books, figuring work schedules, or handling whatever problem had cropped up the night before. And there were always problems: fistfights, drunks, stolen money, and even missing workers who’d just up and left the carnival.
But when the carnival opened its gates for the evening, Grady was on the go, moving past each ride, each food vendor, and each game to make sure his crew was working. Sooner had been right. Grady did have his faults, but anything associated with this business he did right. Obie had said the rifle shot.
The fairgrounds had filled with parents and their young children. The younger families would clear out by nine, and then the teenagers and singles would arrive. That was when the character of the place changed from soft to edgy.
She bypassed the Ferris wheel, which had been running steadily since she arrived, and moved toward the rifle shot, always a big draw for young families.
Dust now coated her high heels, and she was grateful it had not rained in the last few weeks. Rain would turn this place into a mud-soaked adventure. Grady would be happy about the weather. Crisp, cool air brought the customers out whereas rain and mud all but chased away people accustomed to the clean, paved walkways of amusement parks.
She found Grady standing by the rifle shot. Hands on hips, his back was to her as he watched a customer raise his rifle and aim it at the red bull’s-eyes. The man fired once, twice, and three times. Each time he missed. Charlotte could have told him the sight on the barrel was off but didn’t bother. Frustrated, the man paid another five dollars for three more shots.
The extra moments gave her time to really look at Grady. He’d lost weight and his long, lean body hunched forward. He stood, his feet braced, hands on hips, and a cigarette in his left hand.
She moved up behind Grady and in a low voice said, “That was some article you had in the paper today.”
Without facing her, he grinned. “I thought it would get your attention.”
Anger snapped in her gut. “So that was for my benefit?”
Slowly, he faced her. The moonlight mingled with the glow of the game’s light and deepened the crevices of his face. The air about swirled with a hard edge. “It’s always about business. But if I can catch a few other fish along the way, all the better.”
“Who else are you trying to catch?”
As the customer fired and missed again, he faced her, letting the full weight of his gaze settle. “Who else would I want to catch?”
He was the trickster. The game player. He had inspired her best courtroom tactics. “You said Sooner could catch the killer of Diane Young.”
“Good drama sells tickets.” He glanced toward her tent. “She’s already got a line.”
“You’re putting her in unnecessary danger.”
“She ain’t a baby. She’s a big girl now.”
“Eighteen is so young.”
“She’s done all right for herself.”
“All right? Grady, she deserved a real family. A mother and a father. Regular school. You’ve set her up as a side show freak.”
“Good enough for you and your sister.”
She shook her head. “If I’d known that you were going to keep her—”
“You’d what?” he challenged. “You’d have stayed with me and raised her?” He shook his head. “You wanted out of here so bad you’d have sold your soul to the Devil.”
“That’s not true.” Tears choked her throat. “You said she’d get a real home. You promised.”
He laughed. “You had me pegged for a con artist and a liar the day we met. How old were you? Eight? Even then you could see through all my tall tales, likely because you are just like me.
“I’m not like you.”
He shook his head. “And when you wanted out of here so badly that you could taste it, you chose to believe me. You chose to believe the lies because it suited you.”
Frustration scorched through her. “You’re wrong.”
“Who’s the liar now.”
They could stand here and pointlessly argue about the past, or she could worry about today and Sooner. “You need to protect Sooner.”
“I am.”
“How? You’re standing here. She’s over there.”
“Ain’t nothing happens in my carnival without me knowing it. Not ever.”
“Mariah drowned. You never saw that coming.” Pent-up emotion and anger coated the name.
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