Frosted Donuts and Fatal Falls

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Frosted Donuts and Fatal Falls Page 8

by Cindy Bell


  “It’s very pretty.” Sophie smiled, then leaned up to sniff the flower. As she did, water sprayed out of the blossom and splashed her in the face. She gasped and laughed at the same time.

  “Oops, sorry.” Slappy slapped his hands against his knees again and laughed.

  Sophie ran back to Brenda and Charlie, then climbed into her father’s lap. Brenda pulled a napkin out of her purse and used it to wipe off Sophie’s face.

  “Did you have fun?”

  “It was awesome.” Sophie clapped her hands.

  Cecilia stepped out into the middle of the ring with a microphone in her hand.

  “Thank you to Slappy and his buddies for such an entertaining opening to our show, and thanks to little Sophie as well.” Cecilia waved at Sophie as the crowd cheered. “This is meant to be a celebration. Yes, all of us here have experienced a great loss. Rocco was beloved by everyone that knew him. He was generous, kind and creative.” She paused, then took a deep breath. “Rocco was a man who lived with enthusiasm. He loved to have a good time. That’s why every performance today will be dedicated to that same goal. Let’s all have a good time.”

  The crowd erupted in cheers. Just then, a spotlight shined towards a man in stilts.

  As Brenda watched she noticed Sal at the side of the tent. When the circus was in full swing would he now be the star of the show? Had he removed the nuts? She doubted it, considering that if Rocco hadn’t shown up at the time he did, it would have been Sal that swung across the circus tent.

  “Maybe he knew that.” Brenda took a sharp breath. “Maybe he knew that Rocco would never let him do it, that’s why he didn’t actually swing on the rope.”

  “What?” Charlie leaned closer to her. “Did you say something?”

  “No, it’s nothing.” Brenda flashed him a smile and did her best to enjoy the remainder of the show.

  “This isn’t grief, it isn’t just a loss. It’s more than that.” Paisley gulped out her words.

  “I’m listening, Paisley. Tell me what it is.” Joyce braced herself for what she might confess.

  “Do you want to know why I’m upset?” Paisley wiped at her eyes as she took a sharp breath. “I’m upset because I just spoke to Detective Crackle, who told me that the police found a large shoeprint right beneath the ladder that is used to access the trapeze swings. A shoeprint so large, that it might have belonged to a clown.” She gulped back a sob as she crossed her arms and turned away. “So, what am I supposed to think about that?”

  “A shoeprint doesn’t necessarily mean anything, Paisley, I wouldn’t jump to conclusions.” Joyce reached into her purse and pulled out a tissue to offer her.

  “I don’t need that.” Paisley took another deep breath. “I’m not going to cry. I promised myself that I wouldn’t shed a single tear until I find out what happened to Rocco. A shoeprint like that could only have been made by a clown shoe.” She lowered her eyes to her own small feet. “There is only one clown that was interested in hurting Rocco.”

  “Your father?” Joyce offered gently. “Because you were dating?”

  “We weren’t dating.” Paisley rolled her eyes. “I’ve said that so many times, but no one listens. Rocco was teaching me how to become a trapeze artist.” She bit into her bottom lip, then sighed. “The problem was, we couldn’t tell anyone. My father insists that I not be involved in any act. If it were up to him, I’d still be stuck in the ticket booth selling tickets, then he’ll ship me off to college. Thankfully, Cecilia took me on as her assistant. But I love the circus. I want to be part of it. I want to see people cheering for me and know that I’ve made their days just a little better.” She threw her hands up in the air. “What’s so wrong with that?”

  “Nothing.” Joyce smiled some. “There’s nothing wrong with that. But you two still had to sneak around, because of your father.”

  “Yes.” Paisley sighed. “Now, all I can think is that somehow he found out we were still sneaking around. Or maybe he believed the rumors that we were dating. I don’t know.”

  “Listen, Paisley. No matter what happened here, and we don’t know what exactly happened yet, none of it is your fault.” She gazed into the young woman’s eyes. “You know that, don’t you?”

  “No.” Paisley offered a bitter laugh. “How could it not be my fault? My father killed him, because I was involved with him, it doesn’t matter how I was involved with him. If I had just listened and stayed away from him, Rocco would still be here today.”

  “That’s not true. We don’t know for sure that it was your father, but even if it was, it was his fault, not yours. I’m sure that Rocco was thrilled to help you.” Joyce took a deep breath as she realized that she didn’t want to question the young woman any further. She had so much to handle. She didn’t want to add to her stress. “Listen to me, sweetheart. The best thing you can do right now, is remember Rocco as he was. Remember that he wanted to help you become a star. He believed in you. That’s something that you will never lose.”

  “Thank you.” Paisley blinked her eyes swiftly, but still didn’t shed a tear. “That means a lot to me.”

  As Paisley turned to walk away, Joyce felt some relief at being able to give her some comfort. She decided that she needed to share this new information with Brenda as soon as possible. As she walked back towards the donut truck, she noticed a figure lingering there. It only took her a second to recognize him.

  “Arthur?” Joyce paused a few feet from him.

  “Questioning someone when they are already upset, hmm?” Detective Crackle leaned back against the outside of the truck and flipped through his notepad.

  “You were watching me?” Joyce narrowed her eyes.

  “I was observing.” Detective Crackle shrugged without looking away from his notepad.

  “What’s this about a large shoeprint near the area to access the trapeze?” Joyce settled her gaze on him, her determination not dampened in the least.

  “Yes, a large shoeprint was found.” The detective tapped his pen against his pad, then looked up at her for the first time. “I suppose you’re going to tell me your theory now?”

  “I know that Paisley thinks her father had something to do with this.” Joyce shook her head as she sighed. “And all for no reason. She and Rocco weren’t even dating.”

  “No, they weren’t. But they were engaged in something even more illicit perhaps.” Detective Crackle raised an eyebrow. “Rocco was giving Paisley a taste of a forbidden life. Slappy had his reasons for wanting to keep her out of it. Perhaps when he discovered what was really happening between them, that was what sent him over the edge.”

  “Maybe.” Joyce narrowed her eyes. “And he would have known when the ropes were due to be checked. He could have sabotaged the ropes in that window of time without much trouble.”

  “But?” Detective Crackle smiled as he gazed at her.

  “But what?” Joyce settled against the truck beside him.

  “I can see that there’s a but. It’s in the pinch of your forehead.” Detective Crackle’s smile grew wider. “So, what’s the but?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe it’s because he’s a clown, and he’s been nothing but kind to me and Brenda, but I just don’t see him as a killer.” Joyce rubbed her hands along her arms and closed her eyes as she tried to picture Slappy in full costume, committing the act. “It’s not as if he is the only clown in the circus.”

  “No, but he is the only one who we know of that had a motive.” Detective Crackle studied her. “His own daughter suspects him. But you don’t?”

  “It’s not that I don’t, I just don’t think it’s time to put all of our eggs in one basket yet.” Joyce adjusted the strap of her purse, then shrugged. “There are plenty of other suspects.”

  “Our basket, hmm?” Detective Crackle tapped his pen against his notepad. “Are you forgetting who is in charge of this investigation?”

  “Would you ever let me?” Joyce offered a tight smile.

  “I can’t discount how cl
ever you are, Joyce. But if the evidence leads me in a certain direction, that’s the way I’m going to travel. I’ve also been digging into Sal and Slappy, but I haven’t come up with much. When Rocco’s trailer was searched, a threatening letter was found. We haven’t figured out who wrote it yet, but when we do, that could swing the focus of the investigation. Until then, I’m going to focus on what evidence we have.” Detective Crackle tucked his notepad back into his pocket.

  “A letter?” Joyce raised an eyebrow. “What did it say?”

  “That’s something I’m keeping close to the cuff for now.” Detective Crackle straightened up.

  “You know that you can tell me.” Joyce smiled. “It’ll stay just between us.”

  “No way.” Detective Crackle shook his head, then stepped past her. He paused just behind her and turned back. “Watch your step on this one, Joyce, all of these people are performers, they know how to get you to believe what they want you to believe.”

  “I will.” Joyce glanced back at him, then turned her attention to the truck. She didn’t see any sign of Brenda. As she unlocked the door and stepped into the truck, she wondered where she might have gone.

  Chapter 12

  “Here you go, sweetie.” Brenda handed a string of bright pink balloons to her daughter. “Just for you.”

  “Thanks Mommy.” Sophie grinned and clung to the string.

  “Here, let me tie it around your wrist. We don’t want it to fly away in the parking lot.” Charlie crouched down and tied the string around her small wrist. “There you go, sweetheart.”

  “Perfect.” Brenda smiled. Her heart swelled with joy as she gazed at her husband and daughter. It had been a wonderful experience to share the circus with them both.

  As Charlie and Sophie headed for the parking lot, Brenda changed direction and walked towards the truck. To her surprise, she spotted Joyce in the serving window.

  “Joyce. I’ve been looking for you. Were you at the show?” Brenda climbed the steps into the truck.

  “No, I wasn’t. Well, I was when it started, but then I went to speak with Paisley. Was that Charlie and Sophie I just saw leaving?” Joyce wiped a cloth along the serving window. “I saw there were still a few things to clean up so we can shut down for the day.”

  “Yes, it was. He managed to bring her after all.” Brenda beamed. “Here, let me do that. I locked up in a rush so I could join Charlie and Sophie for the show.” She took the rag from her. “What did Paisley have to say?”

  “She was very upset. She seems to think that her father might have had something to do with Rocco’s death, and so does Detective Crackle.” Joyce began to collect things from the serving window.

  “Wait. You’re saying that Slappy is the prime suspect?” Brenda looked up at her. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m not completely positive, but yes the evidence is beginning to point in his direction. Paisley wasn’t in a romantic relationship with Rocco, Rocco was teaching her to be a trapeze artist, which is something that Slappy forbade her from doing.”

  “Slappy.” Brenda’s eyes widened. “I never really thought he could be a murderer.”

  “I didn’t either. He might not be.” Joyce shared the evidence that Detective Crackle had found. “The threatening letter is a good piece of evidence, but it doesn’t mean that Slappy wrote it, and even if he did, it doesn’t make him the killer. We don’t even know what it says. He is a protective father, who thought he was doing the right thing by trying to keep Rocco away from his daughter.”

  “So, you don’t think he did it?” Brenda breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Let’s just say, I’m not ready to point my finger at him.” Joyce hesitated, as if she might have more to say, but turned around instead. “Things look pretty good. We should get out of here for the night. We’ll meet back here tomorrow?” She glanced over her shoulder at Brenda.

  “Yes, that’s fine. Are you sure you’re okay, Joyce?” Brenda gazed at her. “I know how hard all of this has been on you.”

  “I’m fine. Well, I’ll be fine once I get some snuggle time with Molly.” Joyce waved to her as she headed down the steps.

  Once Joyce had left, Brenda filled a box with donuts. She wanted to make one stop before she headed to the house. She wanted to find out exactly what Rowan had been doing at the circus. When she arrived at his shop, she entered with the box of donuts in her hands.

  “Rowan, I brought you a treat.” Brenda grinned as he spun around behind the counter.

  “A treat, for me? Thanks.” Rowan smiled as she reached the counter.

  “Sure. I thought I might see you at the special show at the circus today, but I didn’t spot you. Were you there?” Brenda met his eyes.

  “No, I wasn’t invited.” Rowan frowned. “I’m not a huge fan of circuses to be honest.”

  “Not a fan? So, what were you doing there yesterday?” Brenda pushed the box of donuts towards him. “I tried to say hello to you when I saw you there, but you didn’t answer.”

  “Ah, I was busy.” Rowan lifted the lid of the box and took out one of the donuts. “Thanks for this, I’m starving.”

  “Please, enjoy.” Brenda smiled and pulled a few napkins out of her purse. “What were you busy with? The circus wasn’t even open yet.”

  “I was looking for a slip of paper I had dropped.” Rowan sighed, then took a bite of his donut.

  “It must have been an important piece of paper.” Brenda raised an eyebrow.

  “It was. I had written down the measurements I needed, and I hated to have to try to get them again. You see it took a lot of sneaking around.” Rowan took another bite of his donut, which left a trail of powdered sugar along his upper lip.

  “Sneaking around?” Brenda smiled as she studied him. “Was it some kind of surprise?”

  “Yes, actually.” Rowan used one of the napkins to wipe his mouth. “I didn’t want to ruin it. But without those measurements, I couldn’t do what I needed to do. And if someone found out I was there, then the surprise might have been ruined.”

  “What kind of surprise was it?” Brenda leaned closer, intrigued.

  “I suppose I can tell you.” Rowan lowered his voice and narrowed his eyes. “But you must keep it a secret, because they’re not ready yet.”

  “Yes, I will. I promise. You can trust me.” Brenda looked straight into his eyes.

  “I am making a new pair of clown shoes for Joey. He’s been training as a clown and he was going to do a special performance at the circus with Slappy and Rocco. It’s his debut performance to celebrate Rocco’s twentieth year anniversary in the circus. Apparently, he’s been wearing his last pair of clown shoes for a few years and they are so tattered that he gets sores on his feet. Slappy came to me and made the request. He wanted me to make a pair using one of his clown shoes. He gave me a pair to keep. But when I tried to use the shoes, I realized with a foot like Joey’s, which is big, it’s important to have the exact right measurements for certain areas of the foot. So Slappy and I hatched a plan to get access to Joey’s shoes. We managed to pull it off, and I wrote down the measurements, but the slip of paper must have fallen out of my pocket.”

  “Oh, how frustrating.” Brenda’s heart began to pound. If Joey had a similar size shoe as Slappy’s clown shoe, wouldn’t it be possible that the large shoeprint that was found belonged to him? If Rowan had a pair of Slappy’s clown shoes, couldn’t Rowan also be the perpetrator? Her eyes widened as she realized how much this information changed things.

  “It was. Luckily, I was able to find it. Now, I just hope that Joey will like them.” Rowan smiled. “It’s such an honor to get to make a special gift like this. It is a terrible struggle with people that have oversized feet to find shoes that fit and to also be in their price range. Especially special shoes, like clown shoes.”

  “But you’re doing it for free?” Brenda met his eyes. “Won’t it cost you a lot to do that?”

  “I don’t mind. It’s good to give back now and then.” Rowan sh
rugged. “It’s good for the soul.”

  Joyce had just arrived at home when she received a text from Brenda, detailing the conversation she’d had with Rowan. As she read it over, she stepped inside her house, and heard the familiar rattle of Molly’s hutch.

  “I’m coming, I’m coming.” Her eyes widened as she finished reading the text. While she took care of Molly, she called Detective Crackle. She always felt a bit apprehensive calling him. There was definitely a chemistry between them, but she wasn’t sure if either of them wanted to be more than friends. She hadn’t been in a relationship since she lost her husband. With the phone cradled between her shoulder and ear she let Molly out to run around a bit.

  “Detective Crackle.”

  “Hi Arthur, it’s Joyce.” She waited for his response. Would he be pleased to hear from her, or would he rush her off the phone?

  “Joyce, let me guess, you’re calling me with some case-closing information?” A hint of humor entered his voice.

  “Yes, actually. Maybe not case-closing but suspect-expanding. Do you have a few minutes to talk?” Joyce stroked Molly’s fur as she prepared to share the information she had.

  “Sure, why don’t you come over for a cup of coffee? I just brewed a fresh pot.”

  “Oh.” Joyce’s eyes widened. She hadn’t expected the invitation. “Okay, I can come over in a few minutes.”

  “Great. See you then.”

  After Detective Crackle ended the call, Joyce hesitated for a moment. Did she really want to go to his house for coffee? She did enjoy his company, and it would give her a chance to pick his brain about the investigation. She looked down at Molly.

  “What do you think, Molly?”

  Molly wiggled her nose and stared up at her.

  “Yes, you’re right, there’s no reason not to go.” Joyce settled Molly back into her hutch, then headed out the door. She drove the short distance to the address the detective had sent through. When Joyce arrived at Detective Crackle’s house, she had another moment of hesitation. Had he invited her there to tell her once and for all to stay out of the investigation? She hoped not.

 

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