mystic caravan mystery 02 - freaky lies (22 page)

“What do you want, Mark?”

“I just thought we should chat,” the midway manager said. “Have you noticed attendance is down?”

“Yes.”

“That’s not my fault,” he said. “I don’t want to be blamed when you and Max have your monthly meetings and pore over the bills. This cannot be blamed on me.”

I blew out a weary sigh and shoved a strand of hair behind my ear. I hadn’t even considered blaming Mark. I knew exactly why attendance was down. “Why would we blame you?”

“You always like to blame me.”

That was true. “It’s the body,” I said, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. “People are frightened because a dismembered body was discovered so close to the fairgrounds. You’re not to blame. I know that.”

“What about the second body?”

I narrowed my eyes. How did he know about that? He wasn’t around when I gave Detective Brewer his tour earlier, and I’d secretly been thankful for that. It’s hard enough to explain grown men dressing as clowns. There’s no explanation for an oily buffoon running the midway, even if he is technically good at his job. “What have you heard about that?”

“It’s on the television station’s website,” Mark answered. “I read about it before we opened the gates.”

The fact that Mark thought to do that before I did irked me. “Well, what are they saying?”

“Just that a woman was found at the rest stop and she’d been murdered,” Mark replied. “They’re not pointing fingers and calling for pitchforks yet, but the news anchors mentioned the proximity to us – and the other body – so I think people are expected to draw their own conclusions.”

“We’ll be out of here Monday morning,” I said. “We’re not guilty, and everyone will have forgotten all of this by the time we swing by again next year. It’s not a big deal. Don’t dwell on it.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Mark shot back. “You’re Max’s favorite. He’ll never fire you. We all know he hates me.”

I couldn’t argue with that. Everyone hated Mark. That didn’t mean he was in danger of being fired. He was far too good at soaking people out of money with rigged games. “You’re fine,” I said. “I … .” A hint of movement over Mark’s left shoulder caught my attention, and when I focused my eyes on the spot behind the nearby game a face jumped out of the crowd. It took me a moment to realize that I recognized it.

“Are you even paying attention to me?” Mark was annoyed. If I was in his position I would be irritated, too. Because he was the one doing the irritating tonight, though, I had no sympathy.

“I don’t have the energy to pay attention to you,” I said, keeping my eyes glued to the woman I saw at the farmers market that first day in town. She’d been fixated on me then, too. “You’re not in danger of being fired. We know this isn’t your fault. Look around, Mark. Attendance is down, but we’re clearly not in danger of losing money.”

“Well, I … .”

I was done listening to him, so I cut off whatever he was about to say. “Suck it up and do your job,” I ordered. “Everything will be fine. There’s no reason to be … well … you.”

“You have such a warm spirit,” Mark deadpanned. “Thank you for making me feel better.”

“Don’t mention it.”

I left Mark with his nasty thoughts – I got a gander at exactly how nasty they were when my mind brushed up against his as I passed his still-sputtering figure – and headed straight toward the young woman. Her eyes widened when she saw me approaching, but unfortunately for her there was nowhere to flee. She’d picked a spot without an easy exit.

“Hi.” I plastered a bright smile on my face as I greeted her. “I’m Poet Parker. Are you enjoying your visit to the Mystic Caravan Circus?” It was a friendly and somewhat generic greeting, but it got a specific message across. I had no intention of backing away until I learned something about this woman, like why she was so fascinated with me, for example. I wanted her to know that.

The woman looked like an animal caught in someone’s bright lights on the highway. “I … yes.” She tugged on her simple T-shirt to smooth it. “Are you having a good time?”

“Oh, I always have a good time at the circus,” I gushed. “That’s why I decided to make it my home.”

“Wow, that’s great for you,” the woman said. “I guess it was a good decision then, huh.”

I had to hand it to her. She was anxious and agitated, yet she was determined to give as good as she got. I reached out with my mind to give her an initial scan and frowned when I realized there was a barrier warding off intrusion. The woman narrowed her eyes as I doubled my efforts, almost as if she could feel the probe. Well, that was interesting.

“What are you doing?” the woman asked.

Was she asking about the probe or the odd look on my face? “I’m not doing anything,” I replied. “What are you doing?”

“I’m visiting the circus.”

“What a coincidence,” I said. “I’m at the circus, too.”

“How great for both of us,” the woman deadpanned, our gazes locked.

We lapsed into uncomfortable silence for a moment, both of us floundering as we tried to gain control of the situation. I finally couldn’t take it for one moment longer. “What is your name?”

“Why do you want to know my name?”

Wow. This conversation was getting me absolutely nowhere. Unfortunately, my usual means for bypassing needless conversation – a mind scan – wasn’t an option. Whatever she was doing to shield her thoughts was effective. That meant it had to be on purpose. I decided to go for broke. “You’re a mind reader, aren’t you?”

The woman’s eyes widened at the question, the color draining from her features. “I … how … what?”

“You’re a mind reader,” I pressed. “You’re shielding yourself from me. You’re doing a good job, too. I’m impressed.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” the woman said, finally breaking our stare-down. “Why would you ask something like that?”

“Call it a hunch,” I replied. “What’s your name?”

“Why do you want to know my name?”

“Because this is the second time I’ve caught you staring at me. You’re obviously interested in what you see,” I replied. “You’re either a lesbian – and if you are, good for you, but you’re barking up the wrong tree – or you’re interested in me because I’m the resident fortune teller.

“I can’t read your mind because you’re very good at shutting down every pathway I usually utilize to climb into someone’s brain,” I continued. “I’ve already introduced myself. The polite thing to do is for you to introduce yourself.”

Instead of continuing our verbal dance, the woman took me by surprise when she burst into tears. “My name is Melissa Craft!”

I had no idea what to do with the sobbing, but it was loud enough to draw curious stares from a few passersby. I had to get more information, and I needed to do it in a place where we didn’t have an audience.

“Well, come on, Melissa Craft,” I prodded. “I think you and I should have a talk.”

“WOW!
This is the coolest thing I’ve ever seen!”

Melissa paced a small circle in the middle of my tent ten minutes later. She couldn’t get enough of the kitschy props – she especially loved the crystal ball – and she seemed more interested in looking around than focusing on me. I was fine with that, because it gave me a chance to study her without making eye contact.

“I’ve been collecting some of these items for years,” I explained. “It takes some time to find the good stuff, but when you do it’s important to take care of it.”

“Uh-huh.” Melissa ran her fingers over the crystal ball. Up close it was obvious she was barely out of her teens. If she was of legal drinking age I’d be surprised. There was something about her that filled me with nostalgia but I couldn’t figure out why. “Do you see people’s futures in this?”

“No.”

Melissa finally tore her red-rimmed eyes from the crystal ball and focused on me. It had taken me what felt like forever to get her to stop crying. When she did, she refused to explain why she’d been overcome with emotion. “If you don’t use it to read people’s futures why do you have it?”

“Because I use my mind to read futures … and auras … and even look into people’s pasts,” I answered. “That freaks them out, though, so it’s easier to pretend I have to use a tool to do it. When people find out I can make it happen whenever I want they get leery around me.”

“Even those guys who were at the farmers market with you?”

“Not those guys,” I conceded. “They’re close … friends … though. They’re not afraid of my powers.”

“The dark-haired guy looked like more than a friend to me,” Melissa said, flashing an impish grin. “He looked like he wanted to be your … special friend.”

“He is technically more than a friend.” For now, I silently added. “It’s still new, though, so we don’t really put labels on anything.”

“That’s cool,” Melissa said, hopping in my direction. She had a lot of energy. It probably had something to do with her age. I remember being young, but I don’t remember ever being that exuberant. I think life beat it out of me before I had a chance to embrace it. Max always said I was older than my years when he found me. I guess he was right. If this is how normal teenagers act, I’d clearly missed an important step in the aging process. “Why can you read minds?”

The question took me by surprise. “I was born this way. How about you?”

Melissa balked. “I can’t read minds.”

I didn’t believe that for a second but decided not to press her. I’d been in the same position as her at the same age, and trusting people wasn’t easy. When you’re conditioned to hide who you are it can be a hard habit to break. “Okay, let’s talk about something else,” I suggested. “Tell me why you’re here.”

Melissa shrugged as she ran her hand over the Ouija board’s planchette. “It’s a circus. We only get to see it once a year. There’s nothing else to do, so … .”

She was lying. Well, mostly. The idea of the circus excited her. I saw a little flutter flash behind her eyes when she mentioned it. She had another reason for being here, though. “You’re here because of the murders.” It was the only thing that made sense.

“How did you know that?” Melissa was incredulous.

“You’re interested in the murders and you want to figure out who did it,” I said, ignoring the question. “That’s why you came here. You figured the killer was tied to the circus.”

“I … .”

I cut her off. I didn’t want to give her the chance to utter another denial. “Are you local? Have you been reading people to see if you can find a culprit?”

Melissa froze, the question throwing her off enough that she could do nothing but rapidly blink her eyes.

“It’s okay,” I prodded. “Your secret is safe with me. I understand the need for secrecy. Trust me. If anyone understands, it’s definitely me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Melissa said finally, taking a step away from me and heading toward the tent flap. “I’m just visiting the circus.”

“Then why did you cry when I asked your name?”

“Maybe I’m a crier.”

“Or maybe you’re emotionally overwhelmed because you know something big is going on here,” I suggested. “You saw me at the farmers market that day and realized what I was. I saw you that day, too. I didn’t recognize you for what you are because I didn’t have enough time to scan you. Somehow, though, I felt your presence.”

For one moment I thought I’d gotten through to her. It passed quickly, though, and Melissa’s hand was on the flap before I had a chance to stop her.

“I like that you really commit to your part,” Melissa said. “It’s cool. I can see how you got this gig.”

“Melissa, we’re not in town for very long,” I cautioned. “If you have any information … .”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I already told you that.”

“Be careful,” I warned. “If you stick your nose in this you might find you’re underwater and unable to swim before you even realize what’s happening. You need a lifeboat if you’re going to do this.”

“I’m not doing anything,” Melissa said. “You should be the one looking over your shoulder. I’m not on anybody’s radar. You’re on everyone’s radar.”

What was that supposed to mean? “Have you sensed something?”

“I don’t sense things,” Melissa said, and it was clear she was lying. “I just … have feelings.”

“And what do your feelings tell you now?”

“That you could die if you’re not careful,” she replied. “You see a lot, but I’m not sure you’re capable of seeing your own future.”

“No one is.”

“Then you’re blind to what’s stalking you,” Melissa said. “Something bad is coming, and it’s coming for you. You need to look over your shoulder, because the attack is going to come when you least expect it … and you won’t survive if you don’t change the course of your future right now.” With those words she ducked through the tent flap and disappeared.

I rolled the ominous words through my head before chasing her. I needed more information. By the time I hit the main circus thoroughfare she was gone.

“Well … crap.”

21

Twenty-One

I
considered giving chase, the need to find Melissa flooding me with jumbled emotions and thoughts. I had no idea in which direction she ran, though, and I couldn’t use my mind to scour the area for her because she knew how to block me.

I rubbed the side of my cheek as I ran her warning through my head. She told me I was going to die. She didn’t say those exact words, but the warning was clear.

Melissa was right about those with the sight not being able to see their own death. It’s a quirk of the gift. You can see others’ futures. You can even see your part in their future. You can’t see what happens to you, though. Part of me thought that was because the future is always in flux for those who seek to control it. The other part of me merely thought it was a cruel joke.

“Hey, there you are.”

The sound of Kade’s voice almost caused me to jump out of my skin when he appeared at my side. The fact that he could sneak up on me at times was jarring. “Here I am.” My voice sounded hollow and Kade immediately picked up on my distress.

“What’s wrong?”

“Huh? Nothing.” I struggled to force my mind to something I could control. “The big show will be letting out soon. We should probably head in that direction and make sure the transition to the parking lot is seamless.”