mystic caravan mystery 02 - freaky lies (18 page)

“I think we’re about to find out,” Kade said, drawing my attention to a spot over his right shoulder. When I shifted to see what he gestured toward I found a burly man in overalls heading in our direction. “Do you think that’s the farmer?”

“I think he’s either the farmer or a worker,” I replied. “I’m honestly glad to see him, though.”

“Why?”

“Because I find it weird that we haven’t seen him yet and that he couldn’t be bothered to come out when a dead body was found on his property.”

“That’s a fair point,” Kade conceded. “I’m sure the cops went to the house to question him. They probably had him busy there for hours. He might not have had the chance to check out the area.”

“He hasn’t been out here at all as far as I can tell, ” I said. “I haven’t seen anyone in this area since the cops left.”

“Except you … alone … in the middle of the night.”

“Oh, let’s not argue,” I pleaded. “We’ll have plenty of time for that later when you try to wrangle those photographs from Luke.”

“I’m not wrangling anything, honey,” Kade said, plastering a bright smile on his face as the farmer approached. “Luke is going to willingly give them to me.”

We’d just see about that. “Hi,” I forced out, keeping my voice friendly as the big man closed the distance between us. “We were just taking a look at your scarecrow here. We’re with the circus. We weren’t doing anything wrong.”

“Take it down a notch,” Kade murmured. “You sound a little defensive.”

I ignored him. “I’m Poet Parker and this is Kade Denton.”

The man stopped about five feet from us, his brown eyes leery as he looked us over. He spent a little extra time checking out my legs, which unnerved me. I couldn’t decide if that was because he was a pervert or because the body discovered on this man’s property was missing legs. Neither was a comforting thought.

“I’m Burt Young.” The man heaved out a sigh as he introduced himself and wiped the back of his neck with a well-worn red bandana. “I figured you were carnies.”

Well, that was insulting. “We’re not carnies,” I corrected. “We’re with the circus.”

“I don’t see how that’s any different,” Burt said. “Why are you trespassing on my property?”

“We wanted to check out the scarecrow,” Kade answered, resting his hand on the back of my neck as he rubbed slow circles into the tender spot above my spine in an effort to calm me.

I hate when people call us “carnies.” It’s insulting and rude … and coming from a guy who looked as if he could double as a
Deliverance
extra, it was also rich. What? That wasn’t derogatory. Oh, shut up.

“We thought there might be something weird going on with him,” Kade said, choosing his words carefully. “He wasn’t here the other night.”

“He?” Burt arched an eyebrow that had more in common with a spark plug than anything tweezers had ever touched. “You know that’s some straw in a pair of pants, right?”

“I do,” Kade gritted out, clearly annoyed. “I just … is there a reason the scarecrow went on vacation?”

That was an odd way of putting it. “We’re concerned that someone might be messing with you – and us by extension – because we’ve had a few instances of trespassing after dark,” I interjected, causing Kade to lift his sculpted eyebrows. “We’re just looking after everyone’s best interests.” It was a lie, but I didn’t think admitting something chased me in the cornfield – something Kade was convinced was a possessed scarecrow – would do us any favors.

“Well, I can’t say that surprises me,” Burt said, rubbing his stubbled chin. “We’ve had a fair bit of trouble ourselves. I think someone is squatting somewhere close, but for the life of me I can’t figure out where.”

Now we were getting somewhere. “Why do you think that?”

“Because there’s been some odd stuff happening,” Burt said. “Mama thought it might be ghosts or something, but I saw footprints in the dirt outside our house and no ghost left those.”

“How old is your mother?” Kade asked.

“I don’t live with my mother,” Burt said. “Mama is my wife. That’s just what I call her.”

That was even creepier than the scarecrow. “So you saw footprints outside the house,” I prodded. “What else happened that convinced you a squatter was around?”

“Little things,” Burt replied. “Oh, and the dead body without arms and legs. I knew I didn’t do that, so someone else has to be guilty, right?”

“Well, that would be my guess,” Kade hedged, clearly unsure how to proceed.

“Did you know Frank Ryland?” I asked, getting to the heart of the matter.

“Everyone knew Frank,” Burt said. “He was a jackass … but a genuinely nice jackass.”

Yes, I knew plenty of jackasses like that. Oh, wait, no I didn’t. “Do you know anyone around here who would want to kill Frank and dump his body on your land?”

Burt shrugged. “People kill for all sorts of reasons. I can’t pretend to know why Frank was killed.”

He was either being purposely evasive or accidentally obtuse. I couldn’t decide which. “You must have other suspicions,” I pressed. “Footprints are bad, and a dead body is worse, but there has to be something else making you think someone is squatting in the area.”

“There is,” Burt confirmed. “I heard someone screaming in the cornfield a few nights ago. If that’s not proof of someone squatting, I don’t know what is.”

I didn’t think that was exactly proof, but I wasn’t in a position to argue. “Do you think it was Frank?”

“The cops say Frank was in my field for at least a week,” Burt answered. “He could’ve been out here a month without me noticing. This time of year the watering is automated, so we don’t spend a lot of time looking around. We might not have noticed he was even out here until harvest season if you all hadn’t found him.”

“So if Frank wasn’t the one screaming, who was?”

“I have no idea,” Burt answered. “I’m pretty sure it was a woman, though.”

“Well, thank you for your time,” Kade said, slipping his arm around my waist. “We won’t bother you again. I just wanted to get a gander at your scarecrow. I thought for sure he was staring at us the other night. I think we’re just on edge.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Burt said. “People can think themselves into all kinds of things when something horrible happens.”

“Thank you for understanding,” Kade said, ushering me back toward the fairgrounds.

“You don’t have to worry anyway,” Burt added. “This scarecrow is new, so it’s not the one you thought was staring at you. Mama made him just last night.”

I stilled, frowning when I felt Kade’s body tense behind mine. “Why do you have a new scarecrow? What happened to the old one?”

“Someone stole it,” Burt replied. “That’s another reason I’m convinced someone is squatting out here. They probably wanted to do … sexual … things with it. I just wish I knew where they were hiding.”

“Thanks for your time,” Kade said, his hand insistent as it pressed against the small of my back. “I hope you figure out what’s going on.”

“WHAT
do you think?”

Kade waited until we were a safe distance from Burt before asking the obvious question.

“I think that … .” What? There’s a possessed scarecrow running around killing people? We had no evidence of that. “I think there’s something odd going on here.”

“Oh, wow, how does that fence you’re sitting on feel on that scrawny behind of yours?” Kade asked, annoyed.

“My behind is not scrawny!”

“I’m sorry,” Kade said, holding up his hands. “That was mean. I happen to like your behind.”

“Whatever,” I muttered, increasing the space between us as I traipsed back toward the circus. “I don’t know what to think. It sounds as if someone is hanging around that guy’s house, maybe staring at Mama or something. If you ever call me ‘mama,’ by the way, it’s over.”

“I have no interest in calling you that,” Kade said, refusing to let me pout and instead grabbing my hand to keep me close. “If he’s right, though, it sounds as if someone is hanging around the cornfield and possibly living out here.”

“You’re convinced it’s a murderous scarecrow, aren’t you?”

“I … don’t know,” Kade admitted. “I think there’s something off about the scarecrow, but I’m starting to wonder whether someone was masquerading as the scarecrow.”

“But … why?”

“Think about it,” Kade said, picking an easy pace so my shorter legs could keep up. “If someone pretended to be a scarecrow they could be in plain sight and spy on us without anyone being suspicious.”

“But why would you hang yourself on a pike to spy?”

“We don’t know that’s what happened,” Kade cautioned. “Someone could’ve taken the real scarecrow down so they could spy for a short amount of time. You heard Burt. They don’t tour every acre of land because they don’t have a need to do it. Someone could’ve taken the scarecrow down and taken its place to spy on us.”

I still wasn’t convinced. “So why steal the scarecrow?”

“Maybe they didn’t steal the scarecrow,” Kade said. “Maybe they hid it. It could be anywhere around here.”

He had a point. “Okay, let’s say you’re right – although I’m not certain you are – why spy on us?”

“Because someone clearly has an agenda,” Kade replied. “I don’t know whether they killed Frank as a warning to us, meaning he was probably in the wrong place at the wrong time, or they’re now interested in us to cover for the murder. I do think somehow everything is connected.”

I studied his profile as we crossed the dreamcatcher and returned to the fairgrounds. “So you don’t think it was an evil scarecrow?”

Kade’s smile was rueful. “I’m not ruling it out,” he said. “That seems unlikely, though. It seems far more likely a human is messing with us – and apparently trying to do sexual things with a scarecrow, if you believe Burt.”

“Well, we’ll have to keep our eyes open,” I said. “I’ll watch your back and you can watch mine.”

“I like watching your back,” Kade said, wrinkling his nose as he gave me a gentle kiss. He was feeling me out to determine whether I was still irritated.

“Even though my behind is scrawny?” Yeah, I wasn’t letting that go.

“Oh, man.” Kade made a face. “How long are you going to be ticked about that?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“Well … .” Kade broke off, frowning when he caught sight of Percival jogging around the outer pathway that encircled the circus grounds. He was shirtless, and he appeared to have a fan club.

Now, I don’t know a lot about British bodies. The accents are a known commodity, but the bodies … . Movies have taught me that British men are pasty, pale and scrawny. Percival seemed to be the exception to the rule. I wasn’t the only one who thought that, because Nixie, Naida and Raven all trailed behind as he took his morning jog. I’d never known any of them to work out before, but now they were all struggling to keep pace as Percival’s smooth and chiseled chest gleamed under the early morning sunlight.

“Wow.” The single word was out of my mouth before I realized the intelligence associated with uttering it.

Kade scowled when I risked a glance in his direction. “I hate that guy,” he grumbled. “He’s a freaking clown. Those idiots are chasing him like it’s a scene from
Rocky
.”

“He’s a hot clown.” What? He said my behind was scrawny. He had it coming.

“He’s British,” Kade snapped. “He’s supposed to look like Prince Charles, not Chris Hemsworth.”

I was impressed with his pop culture knowledge. “You’re still hot. Don’t worry. Your body is great.”

“I’m not worried!” Kade was growing increasingly shrill.

“He has the accent and the body, but you have … charisma.”

Kade grabbed my waist, causing me to squeal as I tried to escape. “You’re in big trouble! I’ll show you charisma.”

In the end, it wasn’t a bad morning after all – other than the potential murderer hanging around the cornfield. Hey, nothing is perfect.

17

Seventeen

K
ade and I were laughing so hard we didn’t notice Luke and Max drinking coffee at the picnic table in front of the trailers when we returned to start our workday preparations. Kade refused to stop tickling me, and I couldn’t catch my breath, resorting to gasping to keep from passing out.

“Ah, young love,” Luke cooed, his hair standing on end as he wrapped his fingers around his mug. He’d clearly just got out of bed. “And how are Dawson and Joey this sweltering summer morning?”

I frowned at the reference.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Kade was reluctant to release me, but because the boss was present he obviously decided pretending to be professional was just as good as being professional.

“It’s a television show,” I said. “It was a teenage soap opera.”

“Ah.” Kade ran his hand through his hair before sitting next to Luke and reaching for the coffee carafe. I couldn’t decide whether he purposely distanced himself from Max or wanted to irritate Luke. It was a toss-up. “I vaguely remember that show. Was Dawson the resident heartthrob?”

“No, that would’ve been Pacey,” I replied, realizing too late that I was owning up to watching an outdated show built around pretentious teenagers. “Not that I would know or anything.”

I took the open seat next to Max and returned his kind smile. He looked exhausted. I had no doubt my ultimatum weighed heavily on him. I also had no intention of backing down. Kade had to know the truth. Every day I got closer to him. Every day I risked my heart breaking when he found out I’d been lying to him. I couldn’t take much more pressure, because I knew I would collapse … and soon.

“Yes, she wouldn’t know,” Luke teased, grinning. “She watched every episode with me last year when we were going through our Netflix phase.”

“It’s okay,” Kade said. “I think it’s funny. If Pacey was the heartthrob, though, why did Dawson get the girl? Joey is a girl, right? I think that’s how I remember it. The girls in my high school watched that show.”

“Joey is a girl,” Luke said. “And Dawson didn’t end up with the girl. He was the only guy who had a show named after him who lost the girl in the end. True story.”

Huh. I’d never really thought about that. “That is weird,” I said, rolling my neck until it cracked before accepting a mug of coffee from Max. “Why do you think that is?”