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Authors: Cynthia Hickey

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Joe released us from the cuffs and ushered us into a small room where a stony-faced woman rolled my fingers across a black ink pad. Then she handed me a wet citrus-scented napkin. I scrubbed at my fingertips while they did the same to my aunt. Please don’t let them take our picture. I could only imagine what my hair looked like.

My cousin grabbed our elbows again. Laughs and gasps of amazement followed as he led my aunt and me to an empty cell. Three concrete walls and another consisting of bars was home to a plastic bench that ran along two of the walls, one sink, and a seatless toilet. Depression settled over my shoulders like a tidal wave crashing on the beach. I perched on the bench. Aunt Eunice plopped next to me with rounded shoulders. We lifted our hands for Joe to unlock the cuffs.

“I’ll be back later for the two of you to sign papers. You’ve been through enough for now.” Gone was the happy-go-lucky man I’d grown up with. This Joe looked carved from wood. Unsmiling and unfeeling. Okay, maybe his statement showed a little compassion toward us, but not much.

The cell next to us contained four women. Two had the largest biceps I’ve ever seen on a female, and they made crude comments that made me blush. The other two wore so much makeup they looked as if they belonged in Foreman’s carnival.

I felt overcome with contrition. The Lord asks us to love our fellow man, or woman, as in this case. Those women were probably some of the nicest people I’d want to know. Then I changed my mind when the comments grew raunchier.

“I’m scared.” Aunt Eunice scooted closer to me. “That one big woman is staring at me.”

“I’m sorry, Aunt Eunice.” My tears fell. “I’m so sorry for getting you into this mess. You’re right.” I wiped my face on my sleeve. “Joe warned me about breaking the law. My problem is, I don’t stop to think about the consequences. If I would’ve stopped, if I would’ve taken the time to think things through. . .” My words choked on a sob.

Aunt Eunice put an arm around my shoulder. “You would have done the same thing. Problem with people is, most of them don’t think. You oughta change that within yourself.”

What about her? I wasn’t alone in my breaking the law. “I can’t believe Joe actually locked us up.” I wiped my eyes on my sleeve.

“More for his peace of mind than anything would be my guess. He’s a good boy. Just doing his job. I’m sorry for encouraging you, sweetie. I’m older. I ought to know better.”

That’s for sure.
I shrugged. “You didn’t force me, Aunt Eunice.” Ethan’s betrayal hurt the most. The only thing that kept me from anger was the glance I’d gotten of his eyes swimming with tears. This bench wouldn’t feel so hard if my head were on his shoulder rather than Aunt Eunice’s resting on mine. The concrete wall would be warmer with his arms around me. If Ethan were here, I could block out the obscene comments from the cell next door.

 

 

 

Chapter Fifteen

 

Darkness, backlit by the yellow glow of a night-light, welcomed me when I opened my eyes. Aunt Eunice slept propped against me, an idea I’d jumped at. The thought of lying prostrate on the hard plastic had been unappealing. Who knew what might have made its home among the flecks of peeling gray paint?

How did I come to this, Lord? All I wanted to do was solve this case, find out who followed me in the gorilla suit, and prevent any more people from getting hurt. If I had to bend a few rules to do so, what did it really matter in the grand scheme of things?

Aunt Eunice snorted in her sleep, and I shifted, trying to relieve the weight from my numb bottom half. My arm tingled from lack of circulation. When I tried to raise it to see the time, I remembered they’d taken my watch. My watch, my jewelry, my beautiful engagement ring, all my personal belongings, and shoved them into an ugly yellow envelope.

My fingertips still showed traces of ink from being fingerprinted, the pads darker than the rest of my hand when I held it up in the weak light. Now I had a record. I was officially a criminal. How could Joe do this to me?

He’d threatened to so many times, but I figured he never would. Kind of like crying wolf. And he must have hatched the plan with Ethan. The man who professed to love me hadn’t said a word in my defense.

A shadow moved. As if I’d conjured him with my thoughts, Ethan stepped forward and gripped the bars of my cell. Forgetting his betrayal, I leaped from the bench. Aunt Eunice fell over in a slump.

“Ethan!”

He poked his hands between the bars and gripped mine. “Are you all right?”

“We’d all be better, sweetie, if you were in here with us,” a voice from the neighboring cell replied.

A muscle twitched in Ethan’s jaw.

“I’m fine.” And I was. “Can I leave now?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been sitting in the waiting room. I just couldn’t go home with you in here.”

“Ah, ain’t that sweet?” Someone laughed.

“It’s not your fault, Ethan. It’s Joe’s.”

A dimple winked from Ethan’s cheek, brightening the gloom of my cell. “Sweetheart, it’s no one’s fault but your own. Joe asked you over and over to stay out of things. He gave you more chances than he would have anyone else.” He squeezed my hands. “We’re afraid for you. Plus, it’s his job. It killed him to drag you here in cuffs. April is livid. She’s threatened not to speak to him for weeks.”

I couldn’t help but think being locked in here with my best friend would be preferable to Aunt Eunice. April and I would laugh about it afterwards, maybe. Make it into an adventure. Embellish the facts and make light of the situation. Aunt Eunice would only find Bible verses that applied, making me feel guiltier than I already did.

A few choice verses on forgiveness came to mind, and I brushed them away. I’d work on that later, when I wasn’t incarcerated.

“What time is it? Joe took my watch.”

“It’s three thirty.” He rubbed his thumb over the top of my hands. “Look, there’s a chair over there. I’ll sit where you can see me until you’re released.”

“Don’t be silly. You don’t have to do that. Go home and get some sleep.”

“I want to go with you.” Ethan released me and lowered himself into a straight-backed chair. His silhouette provided a dark contrast against the colorless wall. Knowing he watched over me, my personal guardian angel, I stepped back to my aunt. After resuming my position as her pillow, I nodded off to sleep.

 

It amazed me the next morning as I strolled toward our candy booth how little the carnies cared that we’d been arrested. They waved, some cheered, but most acted as if arrest was a daily occurrence. I shrugged. Maybe it was.

When Joe released me, he’d made me promise not to go by Millie’s trailer, or disappear without letting someone know where I would be, or go nosing around any place that looked dangerous. He might as well lock me back up. However reluctantly, I promised. Another night in jail didn’t appeal to me.

The temperature continued to rise in the fabricated arts and crafts building as we celebrated a day of Indian summer weather. Plucking at my sweater, I wished I’d worn a T-shirt. “I’m going to step out for a breath of fresh air.”

Aunt Eunice waved a hand to let me know she’d heard and turned back to the customer. The back door pushed open with a squeak.

A light breeze blew between the building and trailers. I lifted my hair off my neck. Hushed voices drifted from around the corner. With the stealth born from a childhood of sneaking cookies from the kitchen after bedtime, I moved toward them.

My eyes narrowed. Washington Bean and another carny I didn’t know stood huddled beneath an awning. Their words were too faint to hear. The carny handed Washington some money, and Washington pulled something from his pocket. I stretched my neck, straining to see, and tripped over a wooden crate. After I landed in an undignified heap, I rubbed my smarting shin.

“Miss Meadows, you all right?” Washington bent over me.

I grasped his offered hand and allowed him to pull me to my feet. “Yes, thank you. Another example of me not looking where I’m going.”

“You’re probably just tired after your experience last night, that’s all.” He turned the crate over and lowered me onto it. “I know I’m always beat after a night in the slammer.”

“How many times have you spent the night in jail?” My heart hammered against my rib cage.

“My fair share, Miss Meadows. Less than some people, more than others.”

“Do you sell drugs, Washington?”

“No, ma’am!” His eyes widened. “That stuff will kill you. What you want to know about something like that?”

“No reason.” If he wasn’t selling drugs, what could it be? Of course, I knew he could be lying. If he was, he deserved an Academy Award.

“Thank you for your help.” I stood. “I’d best be getting back to the booth.” I turned and limped back into the building.

Once inside, I plopped on a stool and raised the leg of my pants. Blood trickled from the scrape, staining the top of my socks red.

“What did you do now?” Aunt Eunice planted her fists on her hips. “That needs to be cleaned. You’d better get over to the first aid tent.”

“I didn’t do anything. I tripped over a crate.” Now that I’d seen the blood, my leg hurt more. “I’ll get a bandage before my pants are ruined.”

The walk across the fairgrounds never seemed so long. Exhaustion, the result of a sleepless night, wore at me as if I struggled through thick mud. My shin throbbed, and self-pity threatened. By the time I reached the first aid tent, I was near tears. Sometimes being emotional could be a real hindrance.

When I entered the tent, I almost turned and fled. Instead, I froze in the doorway. A man sat on a tattered couch. He groaned as his hands clutched a foot covered with a blood-saturated bandage. A woman knelt beside him.

“That stupid elephant. She ought to be shot.”

“It’s fine, Harvey. The ambulance is on its way.” The woman laid a hand on his arm.

“It’s not fine. I’ll probably lose my foot. That’s the most cantankerous animal I’ve ever met. And to think they let little kids look at her. It’s only a matter of time before someone gets killed.”

“Excuse me?” I didn’t dare venture any closer to the man and his blood. “Are you talking about Ginger?”

“You see another elephant around these parts?” The man squinted at me. “Oh, it’s you, Miss Summer, the one who walked Ginger here. What do you have, a death wish?”

He shook his head. “I never could figure out why they’d have a greenhorn walk that death trap of a beast.” He groaned again and grabbed at his foot. “I ought to sue. You’d think Ginger would have been happy to be fed, wouldn’t you? No, sir. Not her. Decided to knock me down and roll me around like a child’s ball. Then stepped on my foot. Playing with me, they said. I’ll give them playing. Bet Foreman will cancel that particular attraction now, won’t he. Oh, my foot. Where’s that ambulance?”

A siren wailed in the distance. Its sound rose above the tinny music of the amusement rides. I ventured closer. “I’m so sorry about your foot. Did y’all hear about the lion getting loose? He ended up at my place. About a mile from here.”

“Yeah, and that’s the strangest thing. His cage was locked up tighter than a drum. I’ve told Foreman time after time that county fairs don’t have wild animals. The man won’t listen. Only a matter of time before he gets sued. Mark my words.” Harvey clutched at the other woman’s hand as paramedics rushed into the trailer. I limped out of the way.

With his free hand, Harvey reached for mine. “Don’t do anyone else any more favors, little girl. Think about it. Nothing makes any sense. I’ve been a friend of your uncle’s from way back. Even knew your daddy before he died. Roy’s told me what’s been going on. Told me to keep an eye on you. I can’t do that while I’m gone. Ya hear?”

I nodded and pulled free. His grip had left a blood smear on my hand. With a grimace, I scrubbed it on the thigh of my pants. What did Harvey know about me? Why his spine-tingling warning? I was definitely living in a B-horror movie. If a hag with a wart on her nose showed up, I’d be out of there. With my luck, it’d be a hag with a chain saw.

“May I help you?”

I turned to face an elderly woman in nursing scrubs. No wart. Her kind face put me at ease, and I lifted my pant leg.

“We can take care of that in a jiffy. Have a seat in this room back here.”

Twenty minutes later, a clean bandage on my leg, I headed back toward the arts and crafts building. Ginger thundered along the fence of her paddock and trumpeted in my direction. I quickened my limping pace, not wanting to be anywhere near an elephant as unstable as a pit bull.

I halted. Near the restrooms, Washington stood in a whispered conversation with a woman. Money exchanged hands. If I were speaking to my cousin, this might be something worthy to report.

Washington glanced up and locked gazes with me. He smiled, and my blood ran cold. As fast as my injured leg would allow, I rushed back to the safety of the candy booth.

“Took you long enough,” Aunt Eunice retorted. She studied my face. “What’s the matter? You look pale as a ghost.”

Perched on the stool, I rested my elbows on my knees. “Does Uncle Roy know a man by the name of Harvey that works here?”

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