mystic caravan mystery 02 - freaky lies (2 page)

“I … nothing,” Max replied hurriedly. “It must’ve been the sun or something.” It was a lame excuse but Max could think of nothing else. “I’m sure it was the sun.”

Katie wasn’t convinced. “Max, I know you’re upset, but … this is the right thing to do. You know that, right?”

Max knew nothing of the sort. He was already retreating into his head – and closing off his heart to the woman who owned it. “I’ll be in touch,” he said after a few beats. “I’ll call you and we’ll set up a regular payment schedule. I … I’ll be in touch.”

Katie was frustrated but she didn’t want to push him. “Max, you really need to sign those papers.”

“We’ll talk,” Max repeated. “I just … I need some time to think about this.”

“Nothing is going to change,” Katie argued. “This child is never going to know who you are. I won’t allow it.”

The tone of her voice set Max’s teeth on edge. “You can’t control the world, Katie,” he said. “I thought I could until today. You’ll find you can’t either. No matter what we decide, things will never play out how we want them to.”

“You’re going to sign the papers, though, right?” Katie pressed. “You’re going to do the right thing, aren’t you?”

Max shrugged. “I always try to do the right thing,” he said. “I need time to decide what the right thing is. I think you owe me at least that much.”

Katie sighed, resigned. “You have two weeks,” she said. “I’ll be calling you again after that.”

Max wasn’t bothered by the deadline. He had no intention of abiding by it. He never bowed to anyone’s deadlines. “We’ll talk,” he said. “Once I wrap my mind around this I’ll be in a better place. I just … we’ll talk.”

Katie exhaled heavily as she regarded him. Despite his attitude she still loved him. Unfortunately, she knew she could never live a good life with him. “I’ll be waiting for your call,” she said. “Just … hurry. I know it seems like we have forever but we really don’t. We need to get all of this in place before the baby arrives.”

“Time is the one thing we do have,” Max countered. “I’ll give this some thought and be in touch.”

“Yeah, you do that.”

1

One

^“
I
think it’s time someone buttered my corn.”

I pressed the tip of my tongue against the back of my teeth and forced myself to remain calm. People say the Midwest is “God’s country” and delightful to visit because it’s relaxed and normal (whatever that is). The people who say that clearly aren’t forced to spend time on a flat highway with nothing to look at but farmland while stuck in what feels to be a shrinking truck cab with an annoying best friend.

I tilted my head to the side, my long dark ponytail shifting as sweat rolled down my neck thanks to the oppressive summer heat, and fixed my best friend Luke Bishop with what I hoped was a friendly expression. “Excuse me?”

If Luke read anything to worry about in my tone he didn’t let on. Instead he merely ran a hand through his blond hair and evenly met my warning gaze with a challenging one of his own. “You heard me,” he said. “Don’t give me that look. I know exactly what I said, and I meant it.”

Luke is the king of double entendre and sexual conversational shifts. He’s a maestro of words … at least he thinks he is. I find his off-the-wall euphemisms annoying. Apparently I’m the only one, though. As the resident social media guru – he gave himself that title – Luke fancies himself the center of all things entertaining at Mystic Caravan Circus. That’s where we work. Today we are landing at the outskirts of Lincoln, Nebraska, where we are to spend the next week performing – amongst other things, of course – for the locals.

As one of the few remaining traveling circuses in the country, Mystic Caravan is something of a curious oddity. Kids today are much more interested in their cell phones and iPads than acrobats and trained animals, but their parents are another story. They remember a time before technology overtook our lives, and enjoy visiting the circus. In another generation, though, I think all circuses will be relegated to memory.

My name is Poet Parker and I’m the resident psychic and second in command of Mystic Caravan. Every year we plot the same course across the country, seemingly heading west until we hit the ocean and then picking our way back east to take a three-month break in New Orleans over the winter months before starting our trek over again. It’s a nomadic life, but you only join the circus if that’s how you want to live. There’s a freedom in movement, and the circus offers just that to wandering hearts.

Most of the people in Mystic Caravan have been with the troupe for years. We’re co-workers but family, too. We’ve known each other for a long time, which means we know how to help one another through trying times – and, of course, hinder one another when we’re in a bad mood. That doesn’t mean we don’t see upheaval in our ranks, though, and it was Mystic Caravan’s newest member – Kade Denton – who caught my attention and distracted me from Luke’s corn conversation.

Kade is quite possibly the finest specimen of the male form I’ve ever seen. Don’t ever tell Luke I said that. I’ll never hear the end of it. While Luke is strong and fair, Kade is built like an action movie star. He boasts short-cropped dark hair and vibrant blue eyes. His skin is soft and smooth – yes, I’ve touched it – and his chest is well muscled and hard. When he’s intent on a task – like now – his expression is all business. When he’s playful, though, and his smile comes out to play … well … I almost go weak in the knees. Yeah, I said it. The man is hot. Sue me.

I’ve never considered myself the type to swoon but there’s something about Kade that makes my heart flutter and my stomach twist. Yes, I know how ridiculous I sound. If I were the type of woman who wrote poetry, Kade would force me to pen a poem … or at least write a dirty limerick.

“Are you even listening to me?” Luke smacked his hands on the tailgate of his truck as we unloaded our belongings, dragging my attention back to him and forcing me to scowl as my cheeks flooded with burning embarrassment.

Crud. What was he talking about again? It had something to do with corn, right? “You were saying that you wanted me to buy butter so you could have corn tonight,” I supplied, hoping I was on the right track.

Luke rolled his eyes in dramatic fashion. “Yes, that’s exactly what I was saying,” he drawled. “I was saying that I need you to buy me butter so I can eat some corn.”

His sarcastic tone told me that wasn’t even remotely what he’d said. “I’m sorry,” I offered lamely. “I got distracted. I’m listening now, though. Tell me about your corn problems and I’ll fix them.”

“You got distracted?” Luke arched a challenging eyebrow and shifted his blue eyes in Kade’s direction. “I see what has you distracted.”

Luke is the best friend I’ve ever had. He’s almost like a sibling. That’s how close we are. He also knows how to needle me with a simple glance. “I wasn’t staring at Kade.” It was a weak lie and I regretted it the moment it left my mouth. It was too late to haul it back, though. “I was staring at Naida’s hair. It looks pretty under the sunlight here.”

“Oh, my … whatever,” Luke intoned, barking out a hoarse laugh as he shook his head. Naida, one of our fellow performers, had hair a pastel aquamarine color. I’d known her long enough that pretending to find the odd color pretty at this point probably wasn’t my best move. “You were looking at Mr. Muscles in his T-shirt.” Luke narrowed his eyes as he watched Kade carry a large trunk from the back of a truck to Naida’s trailer. “Do you think he has a better body than I do?”

That was a loaded question if ever I heard one. There was no way I was answering that. “I think you’re the handsomest man in the land,” I answered smoothly. “There’s a reason you’re the most popular circus performer we have here.”

Luke puffed out his chest. “I am the most popular performer,” he agreed.

Whew. Crisis averted.

“I’m also not an idiot,” Luke added, causing my stomach to roll. “I know you’re hot to trot for our new head of security. Denying it is … well … beneath us both. You two spend every night together. It’s … annoying.”

It was true. Ever since Kade joined the circus we’d been like magnets, seemingly drawn together by a force neither of us could identify nor fight. It had been only two weeks since our introduction (and subsequent fight) but we were already inseparable. In fact, Kade asked me to ride to Lincoln with him before breaking camp this morning, but because Luke’s nose was out of joint and he claimed I was neglecting him, I opted to placate my best friend instead of heeding my protesting girl parts. What? That’s a thing. It’s a gross and weird thing, but it’s still a thing.

“We don’t spend every night together,” I argued. “We just … um … enjoy each other’s company.”

“You’re so full of crap we’re going to need a plunger to get you in your trailer tonight,” Luke shot back, the absolutely disgusting visual causing me to make a face.

“I wasn’t looking at him,” I argued. “I was just … looking at the beautiful scenery.” That sounded more plausible. Well, kind of.

“Yes, you were looking at the mountainous peaks of his pecs and the lush valley of his butt,” Luke said. “The scenery is surely delightful in this part of the country.”

“Fine,” I muttered, giving in to my embarrassment. “He’s just so … pretty.”

Despite his irritation, Luke couldn’t help but smile. “He’s very pretty,” Luke agreed, staring at Kade for a moment and drinking in the man’s fine form. Because he’s gay, Luke understands Kade’s appeal. That doesn’t mean he’s a member of his fan club. “I’m going to beat him up.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes … and lost. “You are not. He would kick your butt from here to next Tuesday if you tried.”

Luke scorched me with a look only years of friendship could sustain. “I am in better shape than he is,” he countered. “He has bulky muscles … like he does steroids. I have leaner muscles and I run five miles a day. He doesn’t run. He sits in your trailer with you and gazes adoringly into your eyes. He’s getting fat because of all that cooking you do.”

“He doesn’t gaze adoringly into my eyes,” I scoffed. What? You can’t do that when you’re making out with someone nonstop. “Also, he doesn’t use steroids. He’s all natural … and perfect.” Ugh. I have no idea when I turned into such a girlie girl, but I’m aware of how annoying I sound. I just can’t seem to stop myself from saying goofy things. I blame Kade’s muscles. Apparently Luke does, too. That’s why we are constantly bickering these days.

“He could use steroids,” Luke said, grabbing two lawn chairs from the back of the truck and setting them on the communal area between our trailers. We always parked our trailers adjacent to each other. At first it was because we adored spending time together. Then it became habit. Now, well … no matter how annoying I find him, I still love Luke. That’s the definition of family. “You wouldn’t know if he used steroids and it ended up giving him a small package because you two are still kneading the dough instead of baking the loaf.”

“I … what?” I knit my eyebrows. Some of Luke’s phrases were hard to comprehend, especially if you are listening with only half an ear.

“Oh, you know exactly what I’m referring to,” Luke said. “You two are kissing … and hugging … and petting every chance you get. You’re also sleeping in the same bed every night. What you’re not doing is anything else.”

“What do you mean?” I knew exactly what he meant. That’s not a conversation I wanted to embark upon, though. I hoped Luke would have the grace to back away before things got out of hand.

He didn’t. “I mean the lips are locking but the trailer isn’t rocking,” Luke replied, not missing a beat. “You two are stuck on second base when you should be rounding third and sliding home.”

“You know I hate it when you use sports metaphors,” I groused, kicking his tire as I moved around the back of the truck with our tabletop grill in tow. “Besides, you have no idea what we’ve been doing.” Sadly, we hadn’t been doing anything more than Luke suggested. I didn’t want him to know that, though. Kade’s refusal to make a move – and, yes, I know I could make a move, too, but I don’t want to seem too forward – was driving me insane. My hormones were about to stage a coup.

“Oh, I know,” Luke said. “If you were doing that you would’ve told me. You always tell me.”

“I do not!”

“You do, too.”

“I do not!”

“You do, too! Stop denying it!” Luke planted his hands on his hips and stared me down. “If you finally hit a homerun you would’ve run to my trailer the first chance you had and forced me to give you a standing ovation. I know you. Don’t deny it.”

Crud. I hate it when he’s right. “Stop talking and start working,” I snapped. Whenever I’m faced with an uncomfortable situation my first inclination is to be mean to the person challenging me. What? It’s a personality defect. I’m not proud of it. Okay, I’m a little proud of it. Wait … what were we talking about again? Oh, yeah, right. “Get the grill ready. We need to cook dinner before it gets too late.”

“Whatever,” Luke grumbled. “You’re the mistress of denial, though. You know that, right?”

I did know that. I wasn’t admitting it to him, though. “Shut your trap for five minutes. You’re giving me a headache.”

“You’re the only reason I ever get headaches,” Luke retorted.

“What are you two arguing about?”

We were so lost in our fight I didn’t notice Kade detach from Naida’s trailer and head in my direction. He was on top of us before I registered his presence. Crud on toast. How much did he hear?

“Um … we were just arguing about the stuff we always argue about,” I replied lamely.

Kade didn’t look convinced. “Uh-huh.” He shifted his attention to Luke. “What were you arguing about?”

“Baseball,” Luke replied, not missing a beat. “Help me set up the grill, will you?”

“Sure.” Kade amiably bobbed his head. His relationship with Luke was a work in progress. They liked each other, but they still had growing pains when it came to sharing time with me. They got along more often than they fought. “As soon as you tell me what you were arguing about I’ll help you.”