by Hadena James
“Are you sure?” He asked.
“Yes,” I answered. “A girl can’t enjoy a moment of sunshine after riding in a refrigerator with you three?”
“Sure, but that wasn’t it,” Lucas said. There were times I wondered if Lucas was holding back the fact that he could read minds. It felt like he could read mine at times. It was unsettling. Since I had no interest in sharing my memories of my last summer trip, I ignored him and began to follow Xavier.
“How about some help?” Michael’s voice came from the SUV. I had forgotten about him, tucked away in the third row of seats. Gabriel had grabbed him a sandwich and he’d eaten quietly in the car with the rest of us. Somehow, it was easy for me to forget he was there. It was like he was a ghost of a person, never leaving an impact on me until he either spoke or I realized he wasn’t with us and should be.
“Kemosabe,” I hooked a finger at Michael.
“What?” Gabriel turned around, saw me pointing and shook his head. Sometimes, Gabriel seemed to forget too. “Lucas, grab his wheelchair and help him into it.”
Lucas was already in action. The injured computer geek was leaning against the SUV, crutches still in the vehicle. He could use them, but on this ground, it would be easy to miss a step and break something else.
Adams pulled in while Lucas futzed with Michael. Silently, I groaned. Another encounter with Homeland Security wasn’t high on my list of things to do.
“Marshal Cain,” Adams said walking past me. When his back was turned, I gave him the finger. Xavier giggled that high pitched, madman giggle that was reserved for special moments. It was a form of inappropriate laughter that he couldn’t really control, some things just tickled his funny bone. When they did and he tried not to laugh, that was the result. I was slowly learning his secrets and the madman’s giggle was a side-effect of something darker.
Adams stared at Xavier like Cthulu had just sprung from Xavier’s body like in the Aliens movie. This made Xavier giggle again. He put his hand over his mouth and made a strange gesture.
“Ignore the giggle, you get used to it,” I told Adams, speeding towards Xavier. Xavier’s face was turning red from the giggling. “Need a moment?” I whispered.
He shook his head no. I stood next to him, hiding him from Adams. I may have incited the incident, but with Adams being the target, Xavier would continue to giggle if he looked at him.
After a couple of seconds, Xavier regained control of himself. He stood erect and smiled at me. I gave him a lopsided grin and we turned to walk towards an unknown destination.
“Fruit loops.” I heard Adams say from behind us.
“That’s the pot,” I said to Xavier.
“No kidding,” Xavier said back. “Where are we headed?”
“Beats me. I was hoping Gabriel would catch up and give us some direction.”
“Gabriel didn’t move.”
“Oh, well, I’m guessing we are going to be staking the place out, so where is security?” I asked Xavier.
“I have never been to Quincy in my life, let alone the fairgrounds. Why would I know?”
“Because we look stupid if we stop now.”
“I guess it’s a good thing I know,” Michael whispered. Xavier jumped. I had heard the wheels moving quickly over the rough dirt.
“Yes, it is.” I resisted the urge to pat him on the shoulder and ask if his leg hurt. He looked like he was stoned and broken bones tended to hurt, so there was no need to ask the obvious.
Reconnaissance
Nick drove. His hands gripping the wheel hard enough to turn his knuckles white. The muscles in his jaw were clenched, giving him a mildly deformed appearance.
Nicky, Nicky, Nicky, this is not a good idea. This is such a bad idea, it may be the worst in history. You should just lie low for the rest of the year. Let the Serial Crimes unit catch their guy and move on before you continue. A serial killer is a bad thing and this is not just a coincidence anymore. He knew you were going to attack the Shelby County Fair. You got lucky.
He wanted to scream at the voice in his head and tell it to shut up, but he couldn’t. If he lost control, he’d never get it back and he knew it. Sure, someone had killed the fair queen in Shelbina, but it had to be coincidence. No one knew where he was planning to attack. It wasn’t like he had poker nights or gatherings where people traipsed through his house.
The smudge, how do you explain that? Someone touched that map. Someone other than you. Someone knew you were going to be in Palmyra. That same someone knew you were going to be in Shelbina. They know you are going to Quincy.
It was impossible. No one could know he was going to Quincy. He hadn’t told anyone. The map was just a map, there weren’t any giant red X’s marking his targets. There might have been tiny pin marks in the map, but they couldn’t be seen at a glance. Someone would have to be almost nose to paper to find them. He’d been very careful.
Traffic was bumper to bumper outside the fairgrounds. The line entering the dirty parking area moved at a snail’s pace. His eyes searched for extra security. His mind screamed at him to move to a different target. There were a couple other fairs going on at the same time. He could do recon tomorrow night and hit them the night after.
He inched forward and was directed into a parking spot. He stopped, plastered a smile on his face and got out of the car. The person directing people to parking spots pointed his sister into the spot next to his. She pulled in and both her rambunctious young children were out of the car before she could get the motor turned off.
“Uncle Nick!” The youngest, Maggie, was ten. She squealed with delight at seeing him. Dillon was two years older. He didn’t squeal, but he smiled from ear to ear. They were going through a tough time. Their dad had walked out two years ago and neither child had exactly recovered.
“Nick,” Barbara, his sister, gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I figured you were mad at me.”
“Nope,” Nick said to her. “I understand money’s been tight for you guys. I had hoped you’d be able to bail me out, but I hadn’t counted on it. It was my own stupid fault anyway.”
“We all have lapses in judgment,” Barbara grabbed hold of Dillon’s hand. Maggie grabbed at Nick’s.
“Tonight, we forget all those and have another lapse in judgment,” Nick smiled at his sister. She looked tired and faded. “Remember, this is my treat.”
“Did you rob a bank?” She raised an eyebrow. Barb was well aware of Nick’s divorce and the money problems it had created. Just like Nick was aware of how hard life was for her and the kids now.
“Yep,” Nick laughed. Barb laughed with him. “We are celebrating my raise that the ex won’t find out about for at least a month or two.”
“Maybe you should have gotten the DUI earlier,” Barb joked.
“Maybe,” Nick looked at Dillon. “What do we want to ride first?”
“I dunno,” Dillon answered.
Nicky, now you’re using your family as cover? What the hell? What happens when your sister calls you in hysterics because you guys were just at this particular fair a few days before it was blown up?
Nick didn’t answer the voice in his head. It was starting to sound less like him and more like James Coburn. As they neared the rides, the noise began to drown it out. The silence was blissful. Not only was it starting to sound like James Coburn, it was beginning to talk to him a lot more. He didn’t like that. It only went away when there was something else for his mind to focus on. Now he had something. They had to ride as many rides as possible. He needed to show his niece and nephew a good time. And he had to memorize the ride locations.
This last part was easy. There was a term for his memory that he couldn’t remember, something fancy, but essentially it meant photographic. He only had to engage with the carnival to remember where all the rides were located and how close together and where the games and food stalls were all situated. Of course, with his family, he could snap a few pictures as well. Just a happy man with his sister and her kids out
celebrating at the fair in the town where they lived. Nothing suspicious about that.
He paid for their wrist bands to enter. It was a Thursday. With the wrist bands they could ride anything, unlimited times, without having to buy a single ticket. A standard promo for fairs on slow nights. This night was anything but slow.
It amazed Nick that with the danger of a bomber running around the area that the fair was still packed. There weren’t long lines or anything, but it was busy. People moved in packs from ride to ride or to the stalls when they needed a break from the spinning and swirling. Teenagers, children, parents and adults with no children all seemed to having a great time. It irritated Nick.
How dare they have a good time when it brought him pain? Even with his sister and her kids, his heart ached and his stomach churned. Neither adult could financially afford to be at a fair, riding rides and eating the overpriced food. Or waste dollars on trying to win crappy prizes at rigged games. The other fairgoers had never experienced real misery. They had never experienced pain and loss and hardship like his family had. They represented everything that was wrong with the world.
“Nick?” Barb gently touched his shoulder.
“Sorry, lost in thought. What?” Nick put the smile back on his face.
“Dillon wants to ride the Ferris wheel,” Barb pointed to the tallest ride there. It was meant to look old fashioned. Large gondolas swung between the round steel frames that held it all together.
“Sounds great!” Nick and his group headed towards the Ferris wheel.
Maggie suddenly stopped. Her hand tightened around Nick’s and she grabbed at her mom’s. Nick looked at the child. Her eyes were large and a huge smile was spread across her face. She was now tugging frantically on her mom’s hand.
“What is it, Mags?” Barb asked.
“Look Mommy! Is that who I think it is?” Maggie asked, trying to point with Nick’s hand. Nick followed the child’s gaze. It was on a woman, lounging against a pole. There was nothing remarkable about the woman. She was petite with brown hair and a crooked nose.
“I think it is, Maggie.” Barb answered. “I’m not sure if she’ll talk to you though. She looks...” Barb didn’t finish that sentence.
Nick thought the woman looked unfriendly, at best. She sipped a large soda. A man joined her. He was in jeans and a black T-shirt. His dark hair was unkempt and parts of it stood up.
“Who is it?” Nick finally asked as his niece practically danced next to him.
“US Marshal Aislinn Cain,” Barb whispered. “She’s part of the Serial Crimes Tracking Unit. Maggie needed to write a paper about a woman that inspired her and they had just caught a serial killer in Alaska. For some reason, the news report and Aislinn Cain’s follow up interview caught Maggie’s attention and now she wants to be a cop when she grows up.”
“No, Mom, I want to be a US Marshal,” Maggie corrected. “Can I go talk to her, just for a second, please, Mom?”
“Nick, do you mind staying with Dillon? I don’t want Maggie going over by herself and Dillon is not interested in cops right now.” Dillon had gotten into some trouble at school and the principal had called the police over it. Dillon hadn’t broken any real laws, so he’d just gotten detention, but Nick knew it had left a sour taste in the boy’s mouth.
“Sure, although, I think we’ll move a little closer to you guys than just standing here,” Nick looked around. “If the SCTU is here, they are probably working and I don’t want you too far away if they are.”
“Maybe we should go,” Barb suggested.
“No, I’m sure it’s fine, nothing has happened on a weeknight. If they are working, it is probably a precaution,” Nick said. Barb didn’t look relieved by that.
“Mom?” Maggie pleaded.
“Come on,” Barb started forward. Nick stopped with Dillon about six feet away. Barb and Maggie made the final steps on their own. The dark haired guy smiled at them and leaned a little closer to Aislinn Cain. Nick wondered if they were on a date.
“Marshal Cain?” Barb’s voice quivered slightly, Nick strained to hear.
“Yes,” the woman turned her attention to Nick’s sister and niece.
“This is Maggie Theriot and I’m Barb Theriot, her mother. Maggie was wondering if she could talk to you for just a second. If you’re busy, we understand,” Barb rushed through the sentence.
“We’re not busy,” the dark haired guy said. “I’m Xavier Reece.” He held out his hand and Barb shook it.
“Are you working?” Barb asked, timidly.
“No,” Aislinn’s voice was stronger than Xavier’s; more commanding. Nick guessed she didn’t have a sense of humor. “We were in Palmyra recently and heard there was a craft show here, I wanted to come, but we got our days mixed up. It’s tomorrow, not today. However, since we’re here.”
“What can we do for you two lovely ladies?” Xavier was still smiling.
“Well,” Maggie took a deep breath. “I wanted to let you know, Marshal Cain, that I saw you in an interview and you made me want to become a US Marshal when I grow up.” Maggie held her breath.
“A US Marshal huh?” Aislinn Cain finally smiled. It made her look years younger. Nick had originally pegged her in her mid-thirties, now she looked like she was in her mid-twenties. “It is hard work being a Marshal, especially if you’re a girl, because you have to put up with guys like this.” Aislinn pointed towards Xavier.
So, they weren’t on a date, but they worked together. Nick looked over Xavier again. The pair were unimpressive. It was hard to believe that this small woman and ragged man chased the worst serial killers in the country.
“You have to study hard, are you a good student?” Xavier asked.
“I have all A’s,” Maggie said proudly.
“That is an excellent start,” Aislinn said. “You have to work hard to stay active and keep fit. You have to work hard to get good grades and go to college, where you have to get even better grades, then you have to apply to the Marshals Service and go through their training. If you make it, you’ll get a badge, like this,” Aislinn Cain pulled out a badge in a folding wallet and showed it to Maggie.
“That is so cool!” Maggie exclaimed.
“It is pretty cool,” Aislinn answered. “And even if you don’t grow up to become a Marshal, you can still be a good cop. Now, go, have fun.”
“Thank you,” Barb said.
“Have a good night!” Xavier waved to them. Aislinn just nodded.
Nick watched the Marshals for another second before heading into the fair. They were lying. They were working, but were they looking for him or for the sniper?
Chapter Fifteen
“You survived the admiration of a ten-year old, how do you feel?” Michael asked me as I sat down in the security room.
“I am so glad you all got to hear that,” I answered.
“Ace is great with kids,” Gabriel said.
“It’s adults that are a problem,” Xavier snickered.
“I do like kids more than adults,” I answered. “Her brother might be headed for some trouble though. Notice he hung back with the guy that was not his dad?”
“I did,” Xavier answered. “Think the kids are going through a rough time?”
“Dad’s out of the picture and based on the facial structure of Barb and the mystery man, I’d say they were relatives, probably siblings,” I said.
“At least they have some sort of stable male influence in their lives,” Michael said.
“Yes,” I agreed. “So, have we seen anything suspicious here in the God room?”
“Mostly hooligans,” Gabriel answered. “Teens doing things they aren’t supposed to, like smoking, but we can’t arrest them unless they kill someone, so we’ve been mostly ignoring their infractions. What about you guys?”
“A ten-year old girl wrote a paper about me, I’m hoping her mother helped her do the research and censored the more violent parts. Most of the people here are just people, no one is jumping out of the crow
d,” I answered.
“Nada,” Xavier agreed. “But we stand out.”
“How do you figure?” Michael asked.
“A ten-year old recognized Ace,” Xavier answered. “I’m sure others have as well. If our killer, either of them, recognizes her, it’ll cause a change.”
“I’ll stay in here the rest of the night,” I answered.
“That doesn’t really work,” Lucas’s voice joined the conversation. “It isn’t just you. We don’t do undercover for a reason. I don’t exactly blend in. I just had a young man tell me I was even bigger in person than on TV.”
“Maybe he thought you were Hulk Hogan,” I suggested.
“He was under twenty. I don’t think he knows who Hulk Hogan is,” Lucas answered.
“Maybe not,” I shrugged.
“I think Xavier and Gabriel are the least recognizable,” Michael pointed out. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but Lucas is massive, he’s like a mountain with hair and teeth and Ace is a sociopath with enough scars for ten people and as the only girl, the press really likes her.”
“Especially when I’m bleeding,” I interjected.
“Especially when she’s bleeding,” Michael agreed. “Gabriel and Xavier are the only ‘average’ looking people in the group, besides me, but I’m sort of busted up.”
“You could still go to the fair,” I narrowed my eyes. “Move out of the way, geek, I’m taking over your monitors, go do wheelies with the smoking teens or something.”
“Wow, you just got uprooted,” Xavier said. “And you did it to yourself.”
“No one will expect a crippled US Marshal to be looking for serial killers and bombers,” Lucas agreed.
“Shit,” Michael sighed. “I should’ve kept my mouth shut.”
“Yep,” I said. “While you are out, grab me a funnel cake.”
“Those things are terrible for you,” Xavier said.
“Explains why they taste so good,” I told him.
“Damn,” Gabriel stood. “Come on, the three of us will wander around, looking for crazies. I’ll make Homeland Security join in the fun.”
