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"Speaking of a pain in the ass," I said, "where did you get the idea of hiring a caravan of traveling Gypsies?"
Her face brightened. "They're here?"
"Do you even read the notes I leave?"
"Sometimes. "
I rubbed my forehead. "Why Gypsies?"
"They contacted me. "
I let my hand drop back to my side. "They what?"
"The head guy. . . " Joyce pursed her lips. "A biblical name. It's on the tip of my tongue. "
"Malachi Cartwright?"
"That's it. Last book in the Old Testament. "
"I don't remember a Book of Cartwright. "
"Hardy-har-har. You'd better watch that quick mouth of yours now that you're in politics. "
She was right, as usual. My quick mouth had served me well in Atlanta, but here it might get me lynched, or at least recalled.
"Cartwright contacted me," Joyce continued. "Said he'd heard about our festival and wanted to perform. Then" - she jutted out her chin and did a horrible Marlon Brando impersonation - "he made me an offer I couldn't refuse. "
"What kind of offer?"
"They perform every night for the entire week and only charge us half the price of everyone else I talked to. "
"Why?"
"Didn't ask. Gift horse and all that. You know how close the treasury is to empty. "
I did. We needed to make a decent profit on this year's Full Moon Festival or things were going to go badly.
Sometimes I thought I should just turn the office over to Balthazar and let him have the headache since he wanted it so much. Then I remembered - without this job, I'd have nothing.
"Are they any good?" I asked.
"We'll find out. "
"You didn't check their references?"
"References?" Joyce began to laugh. "They're Gypsies. "
"I got that when I saw the earrings and the horse-drawn wagons, though they seem to be laying it on a little thick. "
"Showmanship is the name of the game. "
"They could be a traveling band of serial killers," I pointed out.
"Grace will run them through her computers. "
"She will, but she could have done that before you hired them and saved everyone some stress. "
"I forgot. "
