Challa (20 page)

“No. I told you. It’s personal,” Compton repeated.

The sheriff leaned back in his padded chair, fingers drumming on the armrests. “Comp, how long have we known each other?”

“Since third grade.”

“Yeah. And we’ve been though a lot together, including Barry Brewster and his gang of little shits. And now you’re going to sit there and not tell me what’s going on?” Getting suddenly to his feet, Barstow shoved his hands in his pants pockets. “This morning I got vibes from you that said you had a big stake in the young lady’s future. I’m getting those same vibes now, old friend. So give it up. What aren’t you telling me? Are you and that girl…”

“Yeah, Larry. We hit it off. In fact, we did more than hit it off.”

A huge grin split the sheriff’s face. “Hot damn! The Comp’s fallen head over heels! Congratulations!” In the next instant, the smile disappeared. “But the fair skipped town. Maybe I should be offering my condolences.”

Compton frowned. “Not so quick, Larry. Challa swore to me she was staying with me after her last act tonight.”

And then it hit him. It was like finding the right key to fit the keyhole.

“Fourth act?”

“What are you mumbling about?” Barstow asked.

“Hall said something about Challa performing her fourth act tonight.”

The sheriff shrugged. “So?”

“Last night was their second night here in town. Challa told me she was doing her second act when that jerk jumped the stage. That meant tonight would have been her third act, not the fourth one.”

“Maybe you misunderstood.”

“Or maybe, when Hall told her she had to get ready for her fourth act, he was secretly telling her they were preparing to leave.” Compton rubbed his chin. “They didn’t pass through town on their way out, did they?”

“No, and we both know why. Why sneak away then go down through the middle of town where you’d be advertising it?” Walking around to the front of his desk, Barstow took his usual stance by leaning against it. “Comp, don’t take this wrong, but what if the girl was just taking you for a ride?”

Compton started to shake his head, but the sheriff persisted.

“No, listen to me. Go home and check your house. Make sure she didn’t lift something of value while she was there. You know how carny folk are.”

“What would I have of value for her to steal?” Compton almost growled. “For God’s sake, the woman had no compunction about being with me. I showed her what was left of my leg. What the explosion did to me. And she didn’t care! She honestly didn’t care! She didn’t flinch, she didn’t make a face. Larry, we connected!”

Barstow grinned. “I’m thrilled for you, man! I really am. But you have to ask yourself, if you honestly did connect, and I’m not saying you didn’t, but if you did, why did she leave anyway?”

“I’m thinking Lawson Hall had something to do with it,” Compton admitted. There was no way he would tell Barstow everything. Hell, Maxwell was as close as a brother to him, and there was no way Compton would open up to him, either.

“Sooo, what are you planning to do? Go after her? Let’s say you find her. What then?”

He nodded. “When she tells me to my face it was all an act, that her feelings weren’t the real thing, then I’ll back off and come home.” Compton gave the man a hard stare. “But she wasn’t faking last night. Neither was I.”

“She must be one special little lady,” Barstow said.

“Larry, you have no idea.”

“Any way I can help?”

“I was hoping you’d offer.” For the first time in a long time, Compton smiled. “I need to find out which way they went.”

“That shouldn’t be that much of a problem. I can send out bulletins to every law enforcement agency in a two-hundred-mile range. They may be using the back roads, but sooner or later someone’s bound to spot them. That caravan is pretty hard to miss. As soon as someone sends word, I’ll give you a call, okay?”

“Appreciate it, Larry.” Getting to his feet, Compton shook hands with the man.

“Where you off to now?”

“Home,” Compton answered, heading out of the office. But his next stop would actually be the gas station to fill up. And after that, the bank to put a little cash in his wallet.

He was hoping it wouldn’t take long before Barstow found out where the carnival had gone, or at least which way it was heading. Because once he got word, Compton would have his duffel bag packed and ready to leave.

The hard part wouldn’t be tracking the carnival. The hard part would be the waiting.

Chapter 24

Ill

Challa normally rode with the Lebrands when the show was en route. Cora worked concessions, and Gilles was the head mechanic for the rides. They were an older couple who had never had children of their own, so the carnival’s nomadic way of life suited them perfectly. They had a nice-sized van, and Challa had adopted one of the rear seats as her own. There, she could huddle down and read or sleep. Or, in this case, be alone with her thoughts. Thoughts of Compton. When she wept, no one would see or hear her way back in the vehicle. Not when the Lebrands liked to rock with the Beatles blaring through the speakers.

Every half-hour or so Challa would look down at her arm and curse it. What was the point of loving someone when she couldn’t prove it? Why would fate send her to Compton, but not allow her to have him?

She had been a youngling on that slave ship. She had no firsthand experience knowing what her homeworld was like. Her parents had been captured and brought aboard the Arran ship. There, they had been forced to copulate, only to discover they were true blood mates. After repeated torture for refusing to have children, they had complied. Challa heard she was their third child. The other two had been sold to other worlds. Yet for some reason she never understood, the Arra had kept her, although they isolated her away from her parents.

It wasn’t until Simolif came to gather her and the other younglings being held in a separate part of the ship, and took them to the escape craft, that she found out about her parents’ deaths. About how they had refused to bear any more children, and how Heela, her mother, had died from the resulting punishment. Doon passed away in his sleep a few days later. Challa had always wondered if it was because of his grief over losing his mate, or from the
adjac
wounds inflicted on him when he had refused to obey the Arra.

She ran her fingers over her inner arm, down the unmarked flesh. A warm tear drop fell onto her knuckles. The further the distance stretched between her and Compton, the darker the blackness inside her grew. Everything inside her told her Compton was her mate. Every nerve fiber sang his name. Every muscle, every cell waited for his piquant scent to descend over her again. She was like a raw gem, needing him to delicately carve her into a perfect, precious stone with his love.

To make her whole. Complete. Fulfilled.

The chasm continued to widen as the miles slid under the van’s tires. Her heart beat sluggishly, and her head pounded. Sleeping did little to assuage the pain, and unfortunately she couldn’t take any of the medications humans did, as the chemicals were like poison to her system.

The caravan stopped at a filling station and barbeque place on the outskirts of some town. The smell of roasting meat made her sick to her stomach. Still, she climbed out of the van to get something to eat. Maybe if she ate something, it would help. Some potato salad would be nice.

“Hey, girl, you’re looking a mite poorly.” Marlene trundled over to her and gave her shoulder a motherly pat. “That time of the month?”

Fortunately, Challa had quickly learned that the phrase “that time of the month” was always a great excuse whenever something she ate or came across left her feeling nauseous. She nodded slightly as the road bobbled before her eyes. “Yeah. My stomach’s upset, too.”

“Have you thrown up any?”

“No. Not yet.” She couldn’t throw up, even if she wanted to. Challa suspected it had something to do with being Ruinos.

The kindly woman grabbed her by the elbow and guided her over to the back bumper, urging Challa to sit down. “Why don’t you just stay here and get some fresh air? I’ll have Wiley bring you something to eat.”

For some reason, sitting down stopped the road from swaying. Too bad her stomach wouldn’t. Challa managed a wane smile. “Thank you. I’d appreciate it.”

“What are you hungry for? Anything in particular? How about some chicken? Oh, wait. I’m sorry. I forgot you don’t eat meat. Well, how about some baked beans and cabbage slaw, then?”

“I’d…I’d like some potato salad if they have it, please.”

Marlene grinned. The air around her was spiced with her caring apple scent. “Okay! Potato salad it is! Now, you stay here, and I’ll have Wiley bring you out some.”

Challa thanked her then watched as the rotund woman slowly made her way across the short parking lot toward the restaurant where most of the carnies had already gone inside. The rest of the crew was taking turns at the gas pumps filling up the vehicles.

“You wanted to see me?”

It was Duffy’s voice coming from the other side of the van. Challa remained where she sat, too nauseated to get up and see who he was talking to.

“Yeah. I need you to go on ahead and post some flyers.”

It was Lawson. She wasn’t surprised.

There was a rustling of papers. “Head over to the coast and work your way south. Take in the next three towns.” More paper noises. “Start here. Carter Straits. This one looks good, too. And here. They’re the right size. Need to take the map with you?”

“Yeah,” Duffy replied as paper crinkled again.

“We should make Carter Straits tomorrow.”

“Gonna do some midweek shows?”

“Have to. Don’t have a choice.”

“Too bad we couldn’t finish up at Cooper. We had some good crowds there.”

“Yeah, but it couldn’t be helped,” Lawson practically growled. “Better get a move on. Have you eaten?”

“Leeda’s waiting on our order.”

“Okay. As soon as you’ve eaten, take the Dodge. Drive safe.”

Things grew quiet. Challa leaned back against the vehicle and opened herself up. The fresh air and spaciousness of this world still felt strange at times, even though the escape ship had landed more than seven years ago. Sometimes the cramped little cubbyholes she took refuge in felt more real to her than her life did now. Although she knew that she would have eventually died on the Arran ship, Challa wondered how much different her life was today, compared to yesterday. Could she live with this pain inside her? How was it such pain didn’t lessen, but grew with every passing hour? With every passing mile?

She covered her mouth to muffle her sob.

How did a Ruinos cope without her blood mate, when everything inside said she had found him? But when, in reality, she hadn’t?

Chapter 25

North

Compton snatched up the phone as soon as it began ringing. “Compton.”

“It’s Barstow. Good news, bad news.”

“I’m listening.”

“Bad news is we don’t have any idea yet where they went, but the good news is we got a handle on where they came from.”

“I’ll take it,” Compton said, getting to his feet. He hurried into the kitchen and over to the table where he already had a map opened. Snatching up the marker, he paused to listen.

“Before they came to Cooper, they were in Fallon Falls. Before Fallon Falls, Bryer.”

Compton marked the map. “They’re taking a northerly route.”

“Looks that way,” the sheriff acknowledged. “It’s obvious they’re avoiding the big cities and sticking with the smaller towns.”

“Of course they would. Less competition for the entertainment dollar in the smaller towns. Hmm. Think they might be using the back roads?”

“They’re pulling at least a dozen trailers, maybe two dozen. They can’t go the speed limit with that kind of load. Don’t they also have animals? Yeah, I agree. It would be safer to stick to the county roads, in my opinion.”

“All right. If they stick with their original route, they could be heading for Bixley or Van Batten.”

“Or New Meyersville. There’s a state home for boys there. A carnival and sideshow would draw good crowds, don’t you think?”

Compton heard himself chuckle. Things were looking up. “Okay, I’ll go to New Meyersville first. If there’s no sign of them there, I’ll cut across to Bixley. Thanks, Larry.”

“Just doing what you voted me in to do. If I hear anything else, I’ll call you. Good luck, Comp. Hope you find her, and everything works out.”

“So do I.”

He grabbed the map and left the house. Tossing the map through the truck’s open window, Compton climbed into the cab as he glanced at his watch. It was a quarter after four. New Meyersville was eighty miles away. If he cut across to the interstate, he could be there by six.

He had done a lot of thinking during the time he’d been waiting to hear from the law authorities. The more he mulled about it, the more he grew certain that Lawson Hall was the main reason why Challa hadn’t stayed behind. What he couldn’t figure out was what kind of hold the man had on her.