Peggy Dulle - Liza Wilcox 01 - Death Is Clowning Around (5 page)

Chapter 7

The event was just getting started when I arrived.
There were seven or eight booths set up in the middle of the park, each with clowns sitting behind them.
On the center stage were ten clowns practicing
acrobatics
.
The children hadn’t arrived yet, so I wandered around until I found the booth with the round collared clowns.

I walked up and extended my hand.
“Hi, my name’s Liza.
I love clowns.”

The two clowns jumped up, danced a bit, and then extended both arms.
“And we love you, too!”

“So how does a person become a clown?”

“Lots of hard work, specialized training, and gobs of make-up.”
The clown on the right handed me a brochure.

“You have a clown camp?”
I asked, eagerly.

“Sure.
It’s four days of fun.
You’d love it.”
His hand brushed across the air, gesturing with zeal.

I turned the brochure over in my hands.
“When does it start?”

“Actually, because of Spring Break, we run several camps every few days for a couple of weeks.”

This week’s camp probably had already begun.
It was a good thing that in my district we voted to extend the school year by a week so that our Spring Break was actually two weeks instead of one.
I always think it’s a great idea the Friday before Spring Break, since you never really feel like you’ve gotten a rest when it’s only a week.
But in June when the rest of the world is already out for the summer, I’m never quite so sure it was a good idea.
But this time it might work out well for me.
“Where is the camp?”
I asked.

“At our compound in Santa Dominga.”
He pointed to the brochure.
“There’s a number on the back to call for a reservation.
Our website is also listed.
You’ll have a great time.”

Even though I felt a tremor of alarm deep in my belly, I ignored it and smiled at the clown.
“Maybe I’ll give it a try.”

He handed me a balloon butterfly and flashed me an animated smile.
“You’ll learn to make all sorts of things with balloons.”

I put the brochure into my purse, waved at the clowns and went back to the booths.
I’d only made it through one fourth of the perimeter of the park.
The sixth booth was a quilting booth.
A huge quilt hung in the back of the booth, appliquéd with the signs of the Zodiac.
A woman was selling raffle tickets for the quilt.
Her nametag said, “Chris.”
Maybe it was Martha’s friend.

“Good morning.
That’s a stunning quilt.”

She smiled.
“Yes.
Our local Quilting Guild made it.
All of the proceeds go to the Missing Child Foundation.”

I handed her ten dollars.
“How many tickets will this buy me?”

“The tickets are a dollar a piece.”
She handed me ten tickets.

“Do I need to be present to win?”
If I was going to go to clown camp, I wouldn’t be here much longer.

“Oh, no.
The raffle won’t be done until the end of the year.”
She pointed to the quilt.
“We take this to all the quilting shows in the state.
We sell the raffle tickets and then have a drawing on December 20
th
.”
She pointed to my tickets.
“You’ll need to fill out the back with your name, address and phone number.
We’ll contact you if you win.”

I started filling out my tickets.
“Do all of your raffles benefit the same charity?”

“Yes,” she said, turning serious.
“One of our previous members had a child kidnapped several years
ago
so it’s our Guild’s charity of choice.”

I shook my head.
“A child was kidnapped.
That’s terrible.”

She folded her hands together.
“It was over ten years ago but we never give up hope.”

“Is that the missing child poster I see in some of the store windows?”

“Yes.
Jessie was the daughter of Martha McGowan.
She was one of our members.”

“Is Martha still with the Guild?”
I knew the answer, but asked it anyway.

“No.
She died,” she said grimly.

“Oh my.
First the daughter is kidnapped and then the mother dies.
That’s so sad.”
It was still heartbreaking, no matter how many times I heard it.

“Yes.”
She sighed deeply.
“She was a good friend.”

“When did she die?”

“We’d just come back from a quilting show in Santa Dominga.”
She leaned toward me.
“Martha was so excited.
She’d seen her brother-in-law, Carl, at a restaurant.”
She pointed to the center of the park.
“He’s one of those clown people.”

“Her brother-in-law is a clown?”
This was intriguing.

“Oh yeah, so was her father-in-law.
Her husband, Dave, broke with the family tradition and opened the grocery store in town.”
She snickered.
“Boy, did that family have fights about that.”

“Are they local?”

“Yeah, the McGowan’s have been in Gainsville for a long time.”

“Are they still around?”

“No.
The father is dead, Dave moved away, and Carl runs some clown camp in Santa Dominga.”
She glanced toward the woman standing next to me.

I handed her the tickets with my name on them.
“Thanks for the chance to win that beautiful quilt.”

“You’re welcome.”
Chris turned to the lady standing next to me and sold her some raffle tickets.

It was my cue to leave.
Clowns?
Clown camp?
A clown family tradition?
A kidnapped child?
How did they all fit together?

Shelby and I went back to the inn.
I took the brochure out of my purse and I noticed that the website was different from the one I’d visited before.
After turning on my laptop, I typed in the website.
Bells and whistles started playing.
Clowns did acrobatics across my screen.
Balloons inflated and spelled out the words, “Welcome to Uptown Clowns.”
Different from their other website, it listed the camp reservation.
I clicked on the daily schedule.
Each day started with Clown Meditation, followed by various classes on balloon animal making, magic, face painting, and acrobatics.
Each day ended with an Evening Extravaganza.
What the hell was that?
And how does a clown meditate?

I stared at the screen.
Tom had told me to stop investigating.
But what harm was there in going to clown camp?
The acrobatics would be good exercise and everyone could use more make-up tips, couldn’t they?
I had another day to enjoy the festivities in Gainsville and then I’d need to take Shelby home.
I’m sure I could get Justin to stop in and check on her, since he lived across the street.
I don’t think she’d be welcome at clown camp.

I went back to the website and signed up for the camp.
I had to use my real name since I had to use my credit card to pay for the camp.
The cost was $125.00.
It was relatively inexpensive for a four-day camp.
It probably didn’t include room and board but I could stay at a local Motel 6 and not go to far out of my vacation budget.
They said they’d send me an email to verify my registration within a few hours.

Shelby and I walked down to the local burger joint and sat outside and ate.
A few minutes later Shelby whined, just like she had done last night.
I knew we were about to be joined by the local sheriff.
He was dressed in his cop attire and he looked incredible.
I’ve always loved the way a man looks in a uniform.
It just does something to the temperature of the blood in my body.
All by himself Tom had an intense effect on me, but seeing him in his uniform pushed me over the top.
I took several deep breaths but it didn’t help, not one little bit.

“Good afternoon, Liza.”

“Hello, Tom.”

He sat down and looked over the rim of his glasses at me.
“Are you behaving yourself this morning?”

“Did you know that Jessie’s uncle was a clown?”

“Yes.”

“Did you know that he runs the Uptown Clown camp in Santa Dominga?”

His jaw tightened.
“No, I didn’t know that.”

“Did you know that Martha saw him when she was at a quilt show in Santa Dominga and that’s why she was so excited when she got back in town?”

He shook his head.
“I told you to stop investigating and you didn’t listen.
You’re a frustrating woman, Liza.”
He sighed deeply.
“But now you’ve found out two more things that I didn’t know.
Maybe I should hire you as my deputy.”

I reached up and stroked the collar of his shirt. “I would look cute in the uniform.”

“No,” he moaned quietly and stroked my neck.
“You’d look better out of the uniform.”

I blushed.
I never did that.
And my pulse was absolutely out of control.
I needed to change the subject.
“I think I’m going to try clown camp.”

“No, you are not!” he bellowed.

“Too late.
I already signed up for it and paid my money.
I’m a teacher.
I don’t make a lot of money, so when I pay for something I go to it.”

“I’ll give you your money back.”

“Nope.”
I gulped.
“I can’t take money from a stranger.”

“I’m a stranger?”

“No, but…,” I stuttered.

“Liza,” he said, working hard to keep the irritation from showing, but not doing a very good job.

I picked up a French fry and waved it at him.
“Would you like the rest of my fries?”

“You’ll share your fries with a stranger but not take their advice or money?”

“It’s my vacation and clown camp sounds like fun,” I replied crisply.

“It might be dangerous.”

I laughed, covering up my own trepidation.
“Clown camp?”

He raised his eyebrows.
“Is there anything I can say that would dissuade you from going?”

“Nope.”
I picked up another fry and dipped it into the ketchup.
I wasn’t really looking so I got ketchup on my fingers along with the fry.

“Stubborn.”
He bit the fry out of my hand.

“Controlling.”
I started to lick the ketchup that was still on my fingers.

“Pig headed.”
He took my hand and slowly licked the rest of it off.

“Manipulative.”
My heart pounded faster and harder, as if it was trying to escape my chest.
I stood up.

“Obstinate.”
He stood up.

“Power monger.”
My breathing accelerated trying to catch up with my heart.
I grabbed my purse.

“Let’s go.”
He picked up my garbage from lunch.

“Oh, yeah.”
My body felt like it was on fire.
I picked up Shelby’s leash.

We walked back to his hotel room.
As we came through the door, Shelby went over and lay next to the sink.
Somehow she knew.
We didn’t say another word, just stripped each other’s cloths off and ended up in bed.
We were like two run-away locomotives barreling towards each other.
It was fast, frenzied, hot, and sweaty.
And when we crashed together, it was glorious!

When we were finished, I had my legs wrapped around his and my head cradled in his arm.

He stroked his finger down the side of my face, pulled out the barrette that barely held my hair back, and ran his fingers through my hair.
Then he smiled, slid his hand behind my neck and brought my lips to his.
When we finished kissing, his eyes glistened.
“That was very nice.”

“Was this a ploy to get me not to go to clown camp?”
I teased.

“Did it work?”

“No.”
I gave him a sarcastic laugh.

“Then no, it wasn’t.
Just something I’ve been thinking about since the first time I saw you.”