A Charmed Life

by Jenny B. Jones

  And there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

  And I’m about to burn up in a carnival attraction dedicated to horror. The irony does not escape me.

  God, just let it be quick. I want to pass out from smoke inhalation just like Red said. That is possible, right? He wasn’t just lying?

  Because I don’t know if I can believe a word out of his fat, lying mouth.

  I close my eyes against the smoke and hang my head. So many things I wanted to do still. Tell Jake he needs to fight for my mom.

  Let Luke know I’m over the moon for him, that I don’t want to go another day without being the girlfriend of the bossiest, most arrogant boy on campus. I wanted to go to college and write for a university newspaper. Get married. Meet Prince Harry. Maybe marry Prince Harry and redecorate Buckingham Palace.V

  The smoke. It’s getting to me. I have to think. There has to be a way out of here. Now can’t be my time. Not like this. Lord, what do you want me to do?

  Why was Alfredo staring at me so hard? What was he trying to tell me? Think! I cough into my shoulder and recall every word that came out of that dirty crook’s mouth.

  Two twists and a tug couldn’t even get her out of these babies.

  Of course! The handcuffs. He was letting me know the cuffs are his magician’s props.

  I get to my knees and turn my head against the flow of the smoke. Flames eat at the wall and climb higher. Closer.

  I twist the cuffs once. Twice.

  And pull.

  My hands snap loose of the restraints, and I nearly collapse on the floor. Thank you, God! Quickly, I rip off the tape from my mouth. My heart pounding, I feel for the seam at my ankles, as one anxious second passes into another. “Yes!” Finally, my fingernail snags the end of the tape, and I give it a pull, unwrapping my legs. “Help! Help me! I’m trapped!” Covering my mouth with my T-shirt, I pound on the wall in front of me.

  I quickly look to the entrance, but the door is fully engulfed. No time to lose. Must get out.

  Reaching into my back pocket, I rip out my phone. I punch in Luke’s number. No answer.

  “Luke, I’m trapped in the haunted house! Please come get me. Cherry’s in trouble. Do not let her take the trapeze.” And get me! Find me! Rescue me.

  Now to call 9-1-1. A board pops overhead, and with a shout, I jump out of the way.

  And drop my phone.

  The roof is going to cave. I can’t stop to find the phone. I just have to get out.

  Using my hands, I fumble along the walls and try to locate a door. I know there’s at least one more. People go into the haunted house, so they have to come out. I hope.

  Splinters tear into my fingers as I grope along the rough wooden surface, moving along fast enough to stay ahead of the flames. But I know it could go at any time.

  “Help me! Someone!” I scream some more then cover my mouth. The smoke—it’s too much. Recalling Mrs. Bryant’s ninth-grade health class, I stoop as low as I can to the ground, still searching for a door. I push past the light-headedness and keep moving.

  “Bella?”

  I freeze. Did I just hear my name? Please, God!

  “Here I am!” I wheeze and cough. “In here!”

  “Bella!”

  Just gonna sit down for a second and close my eyes. So sleepy.

  Feeling oozy. Head spinning. Eyes sting. Throat raw.

  Air flows over me, and I hear my name again. “Bella! Can you hear me?”

  Then arms lift me up and cradle me close. Is this what dying feels like?

  “Bella, hang on.”

  I nearly choke on the fresh air as it hits my lungs. I’m gently rested on the ground, and suddenly Luke’s face looms near and aims close. Mouth open.

  “Wait!” My lungs spasm as I wheeze. I push his face away and just move the breath in and out. I’m alive!

  Luke sighs big and drops his head to mine. “You’re okay. Thank God you’re okay.” He says this over and over.

  “Luke?”

  He doesn’t move. “Yes?”

  “Get off.”

  He lifts me to him and pulls close. “Some girls will do anything to avoid mouth-to-mouth.”

  I wrap my arms around him and just hold tight, letting the night air cleanse my mind and lungs. “Omigosh!” I shove him away and ease into a sitting position. “We have to save Cherry! Did you tell them not to let her go on?”

  He frowns. “No, I heard the first part of your message and just ran out.”

  “We have to go.” I stumble to my feet, and he helps me to stand. “Stewart’s going to drop Cherry tonight. Red wants her dead. I heard the whole thing.”

  He looks back to the fully engulfed trailer. “I could kill someone myself right now.”

  “Save it for later. We have to go.”

  I take a step and pitch toward the ground. Luke pulls me up and plasters me to his side. “Are you sure you can make it?”

  I just nod and keep up the desperate pace.

  “What if we’re too late?” My voice shakes.

  “Cherry and Stewart were just going up when I left.”

  God, please let us get there in time.

  I could cry with relief when I see the big top come into view. I keep praying as we draw closer and burst inside.

  The fuzziness gone from my brain, I stare toward the center ring. “Noooo!” I grab Luke’s hand, and we run toward the middle. Our voices drown in the sea of cheers from the crowd.

  Cherry and Stewart suspend from an oversized swing from the ceiling. He hangs upside down by his feet and lowers Cherry by a giant red sash.

  She glides down.

  Down.

  Down. It’s too fast!

  “Stop!” I yell, and it’s as if time stands still. Can’t get there fast enough. In the corner of my eye, I see a blur as Luke races ahead of me, arms extended.

  Must get to Cherry.

  Her body unrolls from the sash.

  And empties toward the floor.

  “Noooo!” The scream rips from my throat as I watch my friend pitch toward the ground headfirst.

  Too late. Can’t get there in time. Luke will never make it.

  The entire room gasps, the crowd coming to its feet. Not part of the show.

  Cherry’s shriek pierces my ears, and I stare in sick horror as death waits to swoop in and capture this innocent girl.

  Two uniformed cops fly ahead of Luke, arms outstretched.

  The audience gasps again, and I have to shake my head to clear my vision. Is that . . . Artie Jensen with them?

  Cherry torpedoes right into one of the officers, and the two slam to the ground, the red sash billowing over them like crepe paper.

  I kick it into gear and race toward them. “Cherry!” She lies motionless on the man, her eyes glazed slits.

  ”Don’t touch her!” Artie holds out a hand, then bends down to Cherry. “Can you hear me? Cherry, are you okay?”

  She nods vacantly. “I don’t know. My arm—it hurts.”

  The crowd of carnies pushes in, desperate to get closer. The audience stands in a hushed tableau.

  “Back off!” Artie yells. “Get back now.” He aims his head straight to the swing. “And, Stewart Fritz, I need you to know you’re under arrest.”

  I blink at the man who fifteen minutes earlier would’ve been pulling bunnies out of a hat. “What?”

  Artie Jensen holds up a badge. “I’m Detective Denny Whillock, Payne County PD. You have the right to remain silent.”

  The man finishes reading a hanging Stewart his rights, then gets to business running his hands over the unconscious officer, checking his pulse, behind his eyelids. Gone is the creepy magician. In his place stands a loud, brash cop. Unreal. He was in on it the whole time. I was working with the fuzz and didn’t even know it! Awesome.

  “Cherry, are you okay?” I drop down to the ground next to her. “Just stay right here.” I spy Dolly and Mickey running across the arena. “Help’s coming. Don’t move.”

  Dolly and
Mickey surround Cherry. “An ambulance is on the way,” Mickey says, gingerly touching Cherry’s limbs for broken bones. “Stay put.”

  Luke stands beside me and places his hand on my back. “They can check you out too.”

  “I’m fine.” I smile up at him. “I think my hero got to me just in time. Want to go with me to make my statement?”

  He laughs and clasps my hand in his. “Don’t I always?”

  I flash him my first smile all night. “It’s like our standing date. You, me, and the Truman PD.”

  The detective formerly known as Artie Johnson fires off instructions into his phone as he sits with the downed officer. “I think he’ll be fine. Took a pretty good hit. Probably got some broken ribs.”

  “That scared me to death.” Mickey squats next to Dolly and Cherry. He wraps his arms around his ex-wife. “I thought I was going to die when I realized I couldn’t get to you in time, Cherry.”

  Her smile is small. “It’s okay. Everything’s fine.”

  “No, it’s not. And it hasn’t been for some time.” His scowl is fierce as his eyes sweep Dolly and Cherry. “Let’s change that.”

  Dolly caresses Cherry’s hand. “What are you talking about, Mickey?”

  “I mean tonight—when Cherry was falling.” He swallows hard. “For a second I thought I had lost it all again.” He blinks back moisture in his eyes. “But I didn’t. And I’m not going to let my family go again.” He pulls Dolly closer to him. “You two are my family. We were meant to be together and nothing can stop that. I love you guys so much.”

  Dolly’s voice is tear-clogged. “I love you too.”

  “I mean it, Dolly. This is it. The three of us—forever.”

  Dolly grins down at Cherry. “Can you handle that?”

  Cherry nods and gives a weak smile. “I could probably handle it better with some Tylenol.”

  The paramedics surge through the growing crowd and place a stretcher next to Cherry and her hero.

  Luke signals to one of the EMTs as he holds me close. “Don’t look now, but here comes your mom.” His hand rubs my shoulders.

  “She looks a little stressed.”

  I turn my head into his shoulder and smile. “I think I just got grounded—again.”

  chapter thirty-nine

  I sit on the back of the ambulance getting the “Bella Special.” This checkup routine is nothing new. Is my head cracked? How many fingers do I see? Does anything need stitches?

  When Officer Mark passes by with Alfredo in cuffs, I push the EMT out of the way and jump down. “Wait!” Ruthie follows close behind.

  Mark stops. “You did it again.” His smile is reluctant. “I’m impressed, as usual, but mad that it had to go this far. You never stop, do you, Bella?”

  I glance at Alfredo. “I didn’t really solve anything this time. Just got in the right people’s way, I guess.”

  “I would have come back for you,” Alfredo says. “I would. But I had to save Cherry.”

  “You were never worthy to watch my unicycle ballet,” Ruthie growls. “I should’ve shown you all the cool tricks I know with my switchblade collection.”

  “I couldn’t figure you out.” I step closer to Alfredo. “One minute you were harmless and the next, I was being shackled in a burning trailer.”

  “It all just went wrong. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt.”

  “You were in cahoots with the man who killed your fiancée.”

  Alfredo shakes his dark head. “I loved her. Sure, I was paid to date her at first—and keep her out of Red’s way. But I fell for Betty.

  And I did this all for her. She wanted Cherry protected at all costs, and I promised her I’d take care of that. I—I just didn’t know how. I thought if I made Red believe we were working together, I could get close enough to get Cherry out of there. Take care of her.”

  “Your parenting skills leave something to be desired,” Mark says.

  “And then Red set you up for murder.” The weird, jagged pieces of the puzzle begin to ease into place.

  “Took me awhile to catch on to that,” Alfredo says. “Red was telling me he had it under control and wouldn’t let me hang. When I figured he was double-crossing me, I came up with the escape plan and decided to pull one over him—and get Cherry.” Alfredo gives me that focused stare again. “You know how the dog’s connected, don’t you?”

  I nod slowly. “Yes. I do.”

  “Take care of Cherry for me.”

  I glance to where she lies on a stretcher, surrounded by her new family and a detective. “She’ll be well taken care of. You can cross that off your worry list—and focus on surviving prison.”

  Officer Mark laughs. “A guy who can do magic tricks? Oh, I have a feeling Alfredo here will be very popular with the fellas.” He pushes Alfredo forward, and the two walk toward a flashing car.

  Luke returns to my side. “Are you ready to put some closure on this?”

  “Am I ever.”

  Hours later I stand next to the Ferris wheel with a small crowd of my family and friends, including Cherry, who insisted on being present, even with her broken arm and black eye.

  “That’s the seat.” I point up to the third cart. A carnival worker pulls the lever, letting the wheel turn until the cart comes near.

  “How did you know?” Cherry asks, pulling the safety bar open and stepping up.

  “Peg’s tag. Her middle name is Aurora.”

  “Who gives dogs middle names?” Ruthie asks.

  “People who love their pets,” I say. “Or people who want to leave a clue about where something’s hidden. When I read the dog’s tag, I remembered you saying the Sleeping Beauty seat was your mom’s favorite on the ride.”

  “And Aurora was Sleeping Beauty’s name in the story,” Luke adds. “Pretty smart thinking.”

  I smile at his compliment. “Thanks.”

  “Allow me.” Mickey steps in beside Cherry and tugs on the back of the seat until it gives. “Seems to be a panel here of some sort.”

  Ruthie fishes in her top. “Need this?” She pulls out a screwdriver. “What? You’d be surprised how often that thing comes in handy.”

  Mickey shoves the screwdriver under the small panel and pops it off. “What do we have here?” He sticks his hand in the back of the seat then pulls it back out. “It’s a key.”

  I read the tag. “Number 308.” I look up at Mickey. “Lock box?”

  “Only one way to find out.”

  I peek at my watch. “It’s after ten.”

  Ruthie takes a pin out of her ratted hairdo. “Say the word, and I’ll get us inside any bank in Truman.” She holds up a hand. “Security systems are still a little dicey for me, but doors? No problem.”

  Mickey laughs and clasps the key tight. “I was thinking we’d just ask someone to let us in.”

  My friend snorts. “Amateur.”

  After an unsuccessful trip to Missouri Savings and Loan, we caravan to the only other bank in town.

  “Looks like one of our lock box keys all right.” Joel Dean, the president of Truman National Bank, leads us into the vault. “This is a very unusual situation, and I’m not exactly following protocol here, but the records show Shelly and Junior Fritz do have a box paid through the rest of the year.”

  Cherry does a half circle in the stuffy room. “It could be a letter from my mom, something special of Betty’s—anything.”

  Ruthie comes alongside Cherry. “I want you to know if it’s money, I won’t ask for a cut. Even though I am now officially Bella’s partner, and since she solved this mystery, technically I did too.”

  “We’ll both put our keys in the locks.” Mr. Dean motions for Cherry to join him. “There we go. Just slip in your key.”

  I’m as nervous as a girl taking a pop quiz after a snow day. What could be in there that was worth killing for?

  In the silent room, the click of the lock echoes off the walls. Mr.

  Dean slides out the metal box and places it on a nearby table. �
��Be my guest.”

  “Go ahead, sweetie,” Mickey says, his arm around Dolly.

  With a trembling hand, Cherry lifts the lid and peers inside.

  “It’s an envelope.”

  Ruthie sighs. “Probably just a greeting card.” She leans close and whispers in my ear. “I hope it’s one of those singing ones. Those things are cool.”

  Cherry peels the envelope open and pulls out a piece of paper.

  Her eyes scan the document for what seems like an eternity. Finally, with wide eyes, she gasps and lets the paper fall to the ground.

  Dolly swoops in to pick it up. “Well, if that don’t beat all. It’s a will. From Cherry’s parents, naming her as beneficiary of their estate, which is the Fritz Family Carnival.” She holds the paper to her chest. “You own the circus, Cherry.”

  “That’s why Red wanted you gone,” I say. “He wanted to sell it and keep the money himself.”

  “And make sure you weren’t around to contest it,” Luke adds.

  “He thought he had the perfect plan. And Betty knew it was here. She must’ve created the map to throw him off the scent.”

  Ruthie shakes her head in misery. “I can’t believe I donated my artistic talents to those slimebags.”

  Mickey grabs the will and reads it over. “So I guess the sale of the carnival is null and void now, since Red wasn’t ever the rightful owner. Cherry, what do you want to do? It is your legacy.”

  Cherry pulls out a chair at the small table. “I want a family, not a full-time job. It was important to my parents, but that’s when we were together. I just want to stay here with you and Dolly.”

  “And Peg,” Ruthie pipes in. “Don’t forget the dog.”

  “And to think.” My brain swells with the possibilities. “If Peg hadn’t have come back, we would never have known any of this.”

  “Betty had a heart of gold.” Cherry smiles at the thought. “But she wasn’t especially creative.”

  “I guess it worked out like God intended.” Dolly goes to her young cousin and wraps her arms around her. “He was in this the whole time.”

  “Crazy as it sounds”—Cherry’s eyes find mine—“I do believe you’re right. Because suddenly everything that seemed so wrong . . . feels just right.”