AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Everyone left as they had a direction to head to.
Rosie and I stayed, albeit way far away from the body still on the ground, and talked quietly.
Eventually, long minutes later, the cops finally showed.
The one in front, the largest and most out of shape of them all, sauntered up, staring right at me as if he’d already made his mind up that I was the one responsible.
And his next words confirmed it without once looking at Mary’s body.
“So you killed her.” The sheriff looked at me.
Of all the freakin’ times for Keene, our brother and ringleader, to be gone, it had to be this one.
“I don’t know who actually turned the lock,” I replied stiffly, unable to work up the ability to be nice when this imbecile was clearly dumb as a box of rocks. “But she is dead. We called you the moment that we found her.”
The sheriff scoffed.
My eyes went to his nametag, which declared him to be “Bright.”
Well, I’d have to disagree with that.
“You’ve been here for a solid eight hours, according to my information. That’s more than enough time to find her and call us,” Bright declared.
I gritted my teeth and tried to control myself but was barely able to.
“I called as soon as I found her,” I repeated. “We don’t open these trailers until all of our crew has had a full night’s rest since we drove ten hours to get here.”
Bright snorted. “I doubt that no one would’ve opened that trailer. How long has she been missing?”
I clenched my hands and said, “We were on vacation for two weeks. Everyone leaves to go visit family and friends during this time. I just assumed Mary had been one of those people to leave, even though I likely should’ve realized that she hadn’t said goodbye like she usually does. And when we don’t set up, we don’t work. That’s what these two weeks are for, rest and recuperation.”
“Well, I’m sure she got a lot of resting done,” Bright remarked.
I stiffened my spine and was about to lose my temper with the imbecile when a soothing and familiar voice filled the quickly heating morning air behind me.
“Sheriff,” the man I’d been dreaming about for a solid two months said authoritatively. “I know that she isn’t explaining this in a way that you can understand it well, but she did not intentionally allow anything to happen to the young woman. It’s very sad and unfortunate. They found her today because they were about to set up for the next circus. The trailer was in transit, then parked, and then in transit again for all that time. Today is the first time it was opened. That’s when they found her.”
I felt myself turn, a ball of emotion clogging my throat.
And there he was.
Right when I needed him the most.
Today, Coffey was wearing a t-shirt and jeans. Black shirt, light wash jeans. Black motorcycle boots. And his gloves were tucked into the back pocket of his jeans.
His hair was sweaty from what was likely the helmet in his hand.
And his tattoos were on very vivid and bright display for all to see.
“And who, might I ask, are you?” Bright asked.
“I’m the cook,” he said. “And before you ask, I just got started today.”
Just as he said that my sisters all poured out of the trailer one by one, heading toward us as if they’d just realized that things were amiss.
Keene chose that second to come back, too.
His eyes were wide as he got out of the truck and took a look at everything.
His gaze went directly to Mary’s body, and his mouth went firm.
“What’s going on here?” Val rushed.
“You the ‘psychic?’” Bright asked condescendingly.
Val narrowed her eyes. “Yes.”
“Then you didn’t see this coming?” he asked.
Val clenched her fingers.
Keene finally came up to us and said, “What’s the problem here?”
“You all need to come down to the station and give a statement.” He stared at all my sisters equally menacingly before pointing at me with one finger, twisting his fingers around and putting two up to point at his eyes before turning two back to me.
I stiffened.
“Ruh-roh,” Caristonia murmured. “Someone catch her before she launches herself at a cop.”
I started to move forward, almost before I’d even thought to do it, but a strong arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me into a tight, hard, very muscular body.
“Don’t ever point at me again,” I hissed at the sheriff.
The sheriff stiffened and turned to look at me, unaware of my ire until he studied me.
“Why?” he challenged.
I gritted my teeth. “Because at one point in time, my ancestors felt like pointing happens right before a curse is thrown at them.”
Not to mention, I was so damn superstitious that I also correlated pointing to bad luck.
“You’re fuckin’ nuts,” Bright growled. “Maybe that gives me probable cause to arrest you.”
