mystic caravan mystery 02 - freaky lies

by Amanda M. Lee

  Kade’s eyes widened. “Oh, man! You just ruined my happy day. You know that, right?”

  “Glad to be of service,” Luke said, slinging an arm over my shoulders. “The story is a dud, Poet, but the outcome is pretty hysterical.”

  “Live and learn,” I said. “Live and learn.”

  “THANKS for coming in. We’ll get back to you as soon as we make our decision.”

  Ronald “Slappy” McGovern honked his horn in my face one more time for emphasis and then exited the main tent through the side opening. I waited until he was gone to make my disdain known.

  “I hate clowns,” I muttered. “We’re not hiring him. That horn is beyond annoying.”

  “I told you,” Kade said, shaking his head as he leaned back to stare at the ceiling. “I’m going to have nightmares. Big ones. And now that Luke has mentioned hairy clowns, that’s all I can think about.”

  “Oh, stop being such a baby,” Luke said. “It was just hair.”

  “I didn’t hear you saying that when you were convinced Randy’s leftover back hair was moving on your porch that night,” I pointed out.

  “It was moving,” Luke snapped. “I just know he had some poor misbegotten animal living in there or something. It was at least mutant lice. You have to admit there was something creepy about that hair.”

  “Are you talking about that guy in Minnesota who shaved himself and stalked Luke?” Raven Marko twirled a strand of her silver hair around her finger. As one of the primary members of the circus – and one of the people almost killed by our last deranged clown – she insisted on being present for the interviews. “That hair wasn’t moving. You kept kicking it, and that gave it the illusion of moving.”

  Luke screwed his face up into an annoyed frown. “No one asked you.”

  Raven’s disposition was hardly likable – or maybe that’s just me – and it was on full display today. “Stop being a baby,” she said. “It was just hair. You made that situation worse than it had to be. All you had to do was explain why you were leaving instead of sneaking out of that poor guy’s house. You created that problem.”

  “That’s what I think, too,” Kade said, causing Raven to flash him a flirty smile as my stomach twisted. I hate it when she flirts with him – which is always. I hate it even more when he seems to like it.

  “Whatever,” I muttered. “We have one clown left to interview. I’m still leaning toward the guy who makes balloon animals.”

  “That didn’t look like a giraffe,” Luke argued. “It looked like a penis.”

  “Only in your world,” Raven shot back. “I thought it looked like a snake.”

  “Which also resembles a penis,” Luke said.

  “He clearly needs to get some,” Raven said, shifting her eyes to me. “I liked the guy who kept miming he was in a box.”

  “He wasn’t even a clown,” I challenged. “He was an actual mime.”

  “That’s why I liked him,” Raven said, unruffled. “Clowns are creepy. I don’t see why we need another one.”

  “I agree,” Kade said. “Let’s go with the mime dude. At least he didn’t honk any horns or flap big feet around.”

  “And he was bald so we won’t have to worry about hair issues,” Luke added.

  “We’re not hiring a mime,” I said. “This is a circus. We need a clown.”

  “Then I vote for the one who kept hitting himself on the head with the bowling pins when he was trying to juggle,” Kade said. “At least that way if he turns evil there’s a good chance he’ll knock himself out before he eats anyone.”

  “Why do you think all clowns are evil?” I challenged, irritation flaring. I wasn’t agitated with his attitude as much as the fact that he took Raven’s side. What? I’m petty. I can admit it.

  “Because any grown man who dresses like that has to be evil,” Kade answered, his eyes thoughtful as they rested on me. It was almost as if he read my mind. “I’m fine with whatever clown you want,” he said finally. “You know what you’re doing.”

  Raven snorted. “He’s only saying that because he knows you’re jealous about him siding with me,” she said. “I guess your insecurity wins again.”

  “I am not insecure!”

  “You are so,” Raven said. “You still think he’s interested in me. I don’t blame you. I’m way hotter than you. I would be worried if I were in your shoes, too.” She patted my hand in a condescending manner. “Don’t worry. I’m not after your man. I don’t need a man.”

  “That’s what every bitter shrew who can’t catch a man says,” Luke said.

  “You should know,” Raven snapped.

  “Okay, this is getting us nowhere,” Kade said, sighing as he leaned forward. “Let’s see the last one and take a vote.”

  “I’m still voting for the mime,” Raven said. “He had … personality.”

  “Yes,” I deadpanned. “He pretended he was trapped in a box and couldn’t get out. It was a fantastic personality showing.”

  The sound of a man clearing his throat near the flap drew my attention. The figure standing there, a purple wig in one hand and a horn in the other, looked nothing like a clown. He was tall, a set of broad shoulders indicating how often he worked out, and he was dressed in an expensive suit. His hair was a dark blond and his green eyes were mischievous when they locked with mine.

  “Am I in the right place for the clown auditions?” he asked, his British accent taking me by surprise. “My name is Percival Prentiss. I’m here because I absolutely love being a clown and think I would make a fine addition to the Mystic Caravan family.”

  Anyone else uttering those words in such a manner would’ve earned derision. For some reason it sounded melodic coming from Percival’s mouth. Before I even realized what was happening Raven hopped to her feet and plastered a sultry smile on her face.

  “You’re hired.”

  I shot her a look. “Excuse me?”

  “Oh, come on,” she muttered, keeping her voice low. “Listen to that voice … and look at that body. We have to hire him.” Raven turned back to Percival. “When can you start?”

  “Is today too soon?” Percival asked, beaming.

  That sounded good to me. I … wait … what?

  4

  Four

  “What just happened?”

  I couldn’t wrap my head around the turn of events. Not only had Raven announced Percival was hired without seeing what he could do, she’d also proceeded to lead him outside to take him on a tour of the grounds.

  “Raven hired the hot British guy without talking it over with anyone and you just sat there like a lump,” Luke replied, studying his fingernails. “Do you think we can get manicures when we go into town tonight?” He’d seemingly lost interest in the conversation – and interviews.

  “He wasn’t that hot,” Kade argued. “Trust me. I know hot and he was not hot. Wait … that came out wrong.”

  “Don’t worry. You’re hotter.” I gave his wrist a reassuring squeeze. “I still don’t understand how we hired that guy before he even auditioned.”

  “I think it has a little something to do with his accent,” Luke said. “Women go weak in the knees for a British accent. I like to think of it as James Bond Syndrome. You can’t seem to help yourselves. The way they talk makes you think of being snogged and such.”

  I arched a challenging eyebrow. “Snogged?”

  “You know … sex,” Luke replied, unbothered. “It doesn’t hurt that this guy is smoking hot. Alas, since I find him attractive, he’s obviously straight. If I didn’t have bad luck I would have no luck at all.”

  “He wasn’t hot,” Kade argued. “He was … average … at best.”

  “Oh, someone’s nose is out of joint,” Luke teased, flicking the end of Kade’s nose before moving out from behind the table where we sat. “Let’s go to town. This whole clown thing was a bust. I knew it would be.”

  “We can’t go to town yet,” I said. “I have to fire the clown, interview him and then possibly reh
ire him. I don’t have time to stalk the unsuspecting residents of Lincoln to help you find a crush right now.”

  “You promised you would find something to distract me,” Luke reminded me. “I’m bored. You spend all of your time with Captain Can-Do here, and I need someone to entertain me.”

  “I think that says a little something about you,” Kade said.

  “It does. It says my mind – and other parts of me – need constant stimulation,” Luke said. “Come on, Poet. Forget the clown. No one cares about the clown. Pay attention to me.”

  “While I don’t agree with Luke’s suggestion about spending time with him, I do agree about the clown,” Kade said. “No one cares about the clown.”

  “I care about the clown,” I countered.

  “Well, then watch him during this weekend’s show and fire him on our way out of town,” Kade suggested. “There’s no better audition than seeing how he interacts with the crowd.”

  “I really don’t want to agree with Bishop Biceps, but he has a point,” Luke said. “We can fire him Sunday if he’s not any good. As it stands, I can’t tolerate another interview. Besides, Raven seems to like Prince Clown of Wales, and that’s good news for you because it means she won’t be drooling all over your boyfriend.”

  I think Kade fancied himself above petty jealousies and female fights. I couldn’t help but notice the way he puffed out his chest, though. “Fine,” I said, giving in. “His accent was pretty interesting. I don’t blame Raven for being blinded by the hearts flying around his head.”

  Kade stilled. “I’ll bet that accent is fake,” he said finally. “Have you ever seen a British clown? I haven’t. He’s just doing that to schmooze the women.”

  “Oh, right,” Luke intoned. “Dressing up like a clown is a surefire way to reel in the chicks. He’s probably beating the women off with a stick – or those big floppy shoes – at every turn.”

  Kade narrowed his eyes as he locked gazes with Luke. “You’re really starting to bug me.”

  “Pay less attention to me and more attention to your girlfriend,” Luke suggested. “If you’re not careful she’ll fall for that accent and leave you for the clown. How do you think that will be on your ego?”

  Kade shifted his eyes to me. “Do you really like his accent?”

  His accent made me forget where I was for five minutes. What does that tell you? “Of course not,” I replied. “I’m not the type of woman who falls for accents.”

  Luke snorted. “Oh, whatever.”

  Kade flicked his ear. “Stop causing trouble or I’ll buy a wig and terrorize you with it.”

  “Don’t even think about doing anything of the sort,” Luke warned. “I’ll make you pay if you do.”

  “I’m shaking in my shoes,” Kade said.

  “Are they big clown shoes?”

  “Knock it off,” I snapped, pinching the bridge of my nose to ward off a potential headache. “You’re both bugging me.”

  “And on that note ... I have work to do.” Kade dropped a quick kiss on my lips. “I’ll see you for dinner. Try not to swoon when you give the clown his tour.”

  “I never swoon over clowns,” I said.

  “Just big, beefy security guards,” Luke muttered.

  “And don’t you forget it,” Kade said, poking Luke’s chest and causing me to smile. I think they’re really starting to warm up to each other. No, really.

  “HOW many circuses have you traveled with?”

  Finding something mundane to discuss with a hot clown (wow, those are words I never expected to think) is harder than one might envision. Ten minutes into the tour – one Raven was miffed about not being able to lead herself – I found myself grappling with topics to discuss with Percival. For his part, he remained oblivious to my discomfort.

  “I’ve traveled with three different circuses,” Percival replied. “The first was Montgomery & Simms out of London. I hopped the pond when I was twenty-two, though, and I never looked back. I joined Dobson & Clark out of Washington not long after I arrived and have been working in various capacities of a freelance manner for the past six years.”

  What was that supposed to mean? To me it sounded as if he was unemployed and picking up odd clown jobs – whatever those might be – but the accent threw me. He could’ve said he plunged toilets for a living and I would’ve found it delightful just because I liked listening to him talk.

  “A freelance manner?”

  “I struck out on my own,” Percival replied, following me across the busy midway as the barkers and game station workers toiled away erecting Mystic Caravan’s most profitable endeavor. Yes, that’s right. While the animals and shows are a decent draw, we make the bulk of our money off of games and liquor sales. I try not to let it depress me too much so I can pretend that artistic integrity really does pay off. “I thought I wanted to put down roots but ultimately realized that I’m built for a nomadic life. Does that make sense?”

  Yes … and no. “But what did you do?” I pressed, determined to get an answer. “Did you work local events?”

  “Sometimes.” Percival’s gaze remained trained on the busy workers. “I love the energy here. Don’t you love the energy here?”

  “Sometimes,” I replied, realizing after the fact that my response sounded jaded. I decided to take a different tactic. “Do you think you’ll be able to keep up with our hectic schedule? If you think you’re going to want to stay in one place you should probably tell me now.”

  “I have no intention of settling in one place again,” Percival replied. “I thought I was tired of traveling and then realized I missed it dearly. I’m excited to be part of your group.”

  “Well … okay,” I said, unsure of how else to respond. “We’ll make sure you meet the other clowns this afternoon. There’s kind of a … segregation … here. I’m not sure why it happened, but most of the clowns tend to set up their own digs and mingle only during shows. It’s entirely up to you whether you want to eat with them or us, though.”

  “I think I’ll stick with you guys,” Percival said. “I’m not really in the mood to be segregated. Besides, have you ever hung around with a bunch of clowns? They’re very annoying.”

  I wasn’t sure whether he was being funny or honest, but when I risked a glance in his direction I found his eyes twinkling. I decided to set him straight on a few things. “You should probably know that the clowns don’t like us any more than we like them,” I offered. “Don’t get me wrong, nobody is at war or anything, but I wouldn’t say the clowns enjoy spending time with anyone but each other.”

  “I believe Mystic Caravan is like any other circus,” Percival said. “It’s a microcosm of society when you really break it down into its base parts.”

  See, that right there makes me think there’s something off about this guy. Er, well, other than being a clown, that is. The accent serves as a nice distraction, but Percival seems out of his element. “A microcosm of society?”

  Percival didn’t appear concerned with my tone. “Yes,” he said, bobbing his head. “Any small group of people reflects society as a whole if you take the time to break the interaction down. I’m guessing the clowns aren’t the only ones to form their own splinter group. Am I right?”

  “Yes,” I replied, seeing no reason to lie. “The midway people tend to make up their own little group, too.” I pointed toward the row of trailers at the east end of the Lincoln fairgrounds. “Whenever we come to a new location we have the same basic setup. The circus is at the center, with the parking lot serving as the open front of the square. Then, on one side you have the row of trailers where I live with most of the other performers. The animal trainers, acrobats, sideshow attractions and other big show mainstays tend to group together there.

  “The clowns take up residence along the back,” I said, pointing. “They have their own barbecue pit, and entertain themselves rather than join in with us. On the other side you have the midway performers. They don’t particularly like us and we don’t particul
arly like them.”

  “Do the clowns like them?” Percival asked, seemingly fascinated with the layout lesson.

  “No one likes the clowns,” I answered. “People find clowns creepy.”

  “Is that so?” Percival looked amused by my honesty. “Why do you think that is?”

  “Because grown men shouldn’t wear makeup, make balloon animals, put on floppy shoes and cram themselves into a car with one another.” Kade took me by surprise when he joined us. I hadn’t seen him lurking behind one of the games and couldn’t help but wonder how long he’d been eavesdropping.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, glancing around. “I thought you were making sure the animal area was secure.”

  “I did that already,” Kade replied, never moving his gaze from Percival’s face. “I left you an hour ago. You probably didn’t realize you’ve been giving our new … friend … a tour for that long.”

  If I didn’t know better I’d think he was jealous. Because I regularly found myself jealous of Raven – and subsequently hated myself for it – I couldn’t help but enjoy Kade’s mild reaction. Yes, I know how that makes me sound. I’m shallow. Sue me.

  “Ah, no need to worry, old chap,” Percival said. I could swear his accent thickened with Kade’s arrival. “I won’t take up much more of her time.”

  “I’m not worried,” Kade said. “I just … thought I would check on you and see how things are going.”

  “Quite smashingly,” Percival said. This time I was sure the accent thickened.

  “We’re almost done,” I said, narrowing my eyes briefly before shifting my attention to Kade. “I know you’re worried about me spending too much time on tours so it’s nice you showed up when you did. I don’t suppose you could take care of the last leg for me, could you?”

  It was a trap. I couldn’t help but wonder whether Kade would figure it out before agreeing.

  “I would love to help you,” Kade replied, gracing me with a flirty grin. “That will allow you time to finish up whatever work you have before lunch. I figured we could head to town to pick up supplies.”

  I balked. It was a sweet offer but I always made town runs with Luke. If I ditched him now I’d never hear the end of it. “We have to take Luke with us.”