“Spit out what you’re saying then. We’re wasting time here.”
“From the one with her finger stuck in cupcake frosting?”
“Hey!” I point said finger covered in the pink sugar at him. “I’ve had a traumatic day. Don’t bring my cupcakes into this!”
“Fuck me, you’re exhausting.”
“You’re the one arguing!”
“I’ll follow you!” he finally gives me. “Give me fucking strength.”
“You know what Nonna would say?” I ask him, standing up. “She’d say that God gave you this life because you’re strong enough to live it. I say you were a little shit in your past life and drew the short straw.” I tap his cheek, leaving some frosting on his cheek. “Oopsie.” I swipe it away then suck it off my thumb.
Drake wipes at the side of his face, frowning at me. “Short straw. Right. That’s all I drew.” He shakes his head. “Knew I should have gone to church more as a kid. At least confession.”
“Doesn’t work. I tried it. Still got stuck with you, Fred Flintstone,” I tease him, skipping toward the stairs.
“Hell,” I hear Jason say once I’m a few stairs up. “She’s crazy.”
I open my mouth to respond, but Drake’s laugh makes me stop.
“Yeah,” he replies. “She’s completely and utterly fucking crazy, but she’s my crazy.”
Aw.
That’s probably the sweetest—wait. Bastard.
I stomp my foot against the stair. “I am not crazy!”
Mmm, hot dog.
I may or may not turn to food in terms of high stress. Problem is, I don’t turn to the treadmill in times of low stress, and the high-stress periods seem to be longer and more frequent than the low-stress ones.
Anyway… Jason finally convinced Drake that I wouldn’t come to any kind of harm at the fair and that, if anyone gets offended by my questions, then they’ll just brush me off as kind of insane. Apparently, my clumsy-yet-literal run-ins with Eddie Roy will be enough to label me at a bit of a klutz.
I’d be offended. But yeah. I agree. I was kind of klutzy those days.
So, right now, I’m meandering around the fair, eating my hot dog, and trying not to spill ketchup on my white shirt. One day, I’ll wear a red one and it won’t be such a big deal.
The only person on Jason’s suspect list I know is Eddie, so I figure he’s as good a place to start as any. The large, Canadian man likely won’t take any offense to my questioning. He’ll probably subscribe to the “Noelle is a klutz” way of thinking.
I find him in the area that straddles the stalls and the fairground. He has a knock-down-the-cans game, and up for grabs are various stuffed toys. At two bucks for five balls, I’m glad I pulled a ton of change for tonight. I had a feeling I’d have to pay for some games.
I lick the remaining ketchup from my fingers and dab at my mouth with my napkin. I swear I can feel Drake staring at me and shaking his head, but I don’t dare turn around. I think I’ll just carry on here.
“Noelle!” Eddie bellows with a cheery smile on his face. “How are ya, darlin’?”
“I’m fine, thanks, Eddie. How are you?” I ask, approaching the stall and running my eyes over the soft toys.
“Good. I’m good. Anything in particular you’re after?”
“Would you believe my nephew is dying for one of those bears in a basketball uniform?” I lie. “My brother is fed up of spending all his money at this one stall, so I figured I’d try. My aim isn’t the best, but hey, I thought I’d see if I can get lucky.” I finish with a sweet smile.
Eddie winks. “Why don’t you have a go on the house? That way you won’t have to waste your money.”
Time to fake an aim.
He puts five solid, white balls in the small basket in front of me. “Here y’are, darlin’. Give it a go.”
“All right.” I throw, and my first ball skims the side of a can but doesn’t quite knock it off. I throw—and miss—twice more before Eddie says anything.
“You hear about that break-in last night?”
I open my mouth then press my lips together with a tight nod. I sigh. “That was my house.”
His eyes widen. “No.”
“Yeah.” I throw again and knock two cans down. “My best friend stayed over and woke me when she heard them come in.”
“Did you really shoot your window?”
“Not intentionally,” I lie. “Honestly, I forgot it was loaded. I just meant to scare them, and now, I’m stuck with a huge bill.” I roll the last ball between my fingers, looking down. “Oh well. Better the window than me, right?” I offer him a pathetically weak smile and throw again.
“Here. Take another five.” He puts another five balls in front of me and reorganizes the cans. “Do you know who did it? Was it the murderers?”
I lift one shoulder to my ear then drop it. “I guess so. I fit their MO by just being a woman, right?”
He looks at me, concerned. “You shouldn’t be here alone.”
“I’m okay. There’s a lot of people, right? My brother is meeting me in an hour. I just needed some fresh air, and well, I’ve always loved the fair.” I throw the ball and hit two cans. They clatter to the surface behind them. “Have you heard anything about them? The murders?”
“No more than anyone, I guess.” He puts his hands in his pockets and leans against the sides. “You know these ain’t the first, don’t you?”
“I did hear that, but I thought I was a rumor.”
“Aren’t you a private investigator?”
“For cheaters,” I confirm. “I don’t have much to do with murders unless I just happen to stumble across the killer. Which has happened once or twice.”
Stumble. Right. That’s what I do.
Eddie sighs. “Of the last eight towns we’ve been to, there’ve been murders in four. All satanic crap. I don’t get it, me. I’m an Atheist. Figure I can’t offend anyone that way.”
“Tell that to my grandmother,” I mutter.
He chuckles. “This is the eighth town and the fourth string of killings. I don’t wanna believe it’s one of these boys…” He takes a deep breath, his eyes looking over my head and scanning the fair. “It’s gotta be, ain’t it? Our women are out of their minds. A year ago, we didn’t even lock the doors to our caravans. Now, they’re all fuckin’ padlocked, and none of the girls live together. They’re bunking with their male family members. They’re terrified.”
“I don’t blame them.” I play with the ball again. “It is scary, isn’t it? Do you have any idea who might be behind it?”
Another shrug. “Like I said, I don’t wanna think about it.”
“I understand. I don’t really, either.” I offer him another smile and throw my last ball. I deliberately miss and shrug. “Thanks for the free tries, Eddie. I’m gonna go wander around some before my brother gets here.”
“Here.” He tugs down a bear wearing a red basketball uniform. “For your nephew. I’m glad you’re all right, girl.”
“Thanks. That’s real sweet of you.” I take the bear, smile, and tuck it under my arm. “Hey, you wouldn’t know where I could find Alistair Carpenter or Jackson Bullock, do you? My sister-in-law told me that Jackson does the best ice cream cones and that Alistair has the hardest darts game.”
“Sure. They’re next to each other, right across the way. You know Dina’s stall?”
I nod.
“About three down from her. Jackson has short, dark hair, and Alistair has light-blond hair, pretty scraggly. And take it from me—that darts game is insane. Four bull’s-eyes or bust.”
“Sounds fun. I don’t have the greatest aim, but why not?”
“Just be you and you’ll charm one of those cash piles outta him.” He winks.
“Thanks, Eddie. And for the bear.” I tap its head, hold my hand up, and walk away.
He’s either telling the truth or a real good actor. I don’t know which it is, but hey, I scored Silvio a free bear. That’ll give me aunt points for sure.
Now to find Jackson and Alistair. I figure I can get another two under my belt tonight before Drake says enough and takes me home.
Well, his house home.