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I patted his arm with my free hand, and he covered it with his. “Sounds like we have a plan.”
The noise was almost deafening the closer we got to the game. Kyle Avery had one of the air rifles aimed at a target, and the teenager was diligently grouping his shots in small bursts to take out the star. I purposely bumped up against him when Dominic and I strolled up to the counter. His BBs went awry, and he turned on me with a growl. I glared at him until he looked away like a whipped pup. I hadn’t forgotten what he’d put Sunny through the week of her wedding. She might have forgiven him, but I hadn’t.
Kyle put his rifle down, picked up a jar of brown wood chips that I hadn’t seen, and began to walk away.
“Hey,” I said.
He turned, his eyes respectfully cast to the ground. Smart boy. He’d recently graduated from high school, and he and his mom were trying to make a go of Paw-On Pawn Shop. The ex-owner, Jeremiah Bowers, another guy killed in Peculiar, deservedly so, had been using Kyle and some of his friends to rob nearby towns. When Bowers was stupid enough to steal my grandmother’s wedding rings, my Great Aunt Erma took matters into her own hands.
“Where’d you get that jar of sassafras?” I asked Kyle.
“I didn’t steal it,” he said defensively.
“Well, duh. Answer the question.” Exasperation colored my tone.
“They’re selling sassafras at the cotton candy and kettle corn stand at the end of the street. My mom wanted some.”
“Thanks.” I turned back to the BB Gun stand, effectively dismissing the kid.
“What was that all about?” Dominic asked.
“Oh, just an old grudge.” I smiled. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“I do love an assertive woman.”
Damn, this guy was smooth. “You certainly know how to charm, Mr. Tartan.”
“It’s easy to be charming in such excellent company, Ms. Trimmel.” He picked up the air rifle the vendor handed him. “Now, which stuffed animal would you like?”
I pointed to the biggest most ridiculous looking giraffe—the grand prize—and grinned. “That one.”
He grinned back. “Challenge accepted.”
Dominic Tartan turned out to be a man of his word, and lucky me, I got to lug a giant giraffe around by the neck. About the time we got to the corn dog stand, his phone whistled. He pulled it from his front pocket.
“Shoot.” He frowned. “I’ve got to get over to the courthouse. The Tri-Council president has called an emergency session.”
“Well, duty calls,” I said. “Do you know what it’s about?”
“Apparently, they have officially proclaimed Jerry missing.”
“Oh.” I wondered again about the skinned body. Foreboding settled heavy in my stomach. What if Jerry was the one on the doc’s autopsy table?
A scream raised the hair on the back of my neck. My knee jerk reaction was to run away from whatever terror had brought on the high-pitched wail. Instead, I let my fear act as a bolster to my courage and ran toward the commotion. A crowd gathered down by the lakeshore. Blondina Messer, the owner of Blonde Bear Café, held her daughter Selena as Deputy Connelly went into crowd-control mode. His eyes met mine in a kind of plea. I nodded to him, pulled out my phone, and hit call on the screen.
“Sheriff,” I said. “You better get down to Riverfront.” I could see a body, red and bloated, floating near the shore. “Call Mark and Doc Smith, too.”
Numb from my fingers to my toes, I swayed where I stood. Two strong arms wrapped around me and held me up.
Dominic said, “What is that?” The awe in his voice matched my shock.
“It’s a person,” I told him. I hugged the stuffed giraffe to my chest. “It’s…”
“Whoa.” His grip on me tightened, and I wasn’t sure if it was for my comfort or for his own, but I didn’t resist his hold. “Who? How? Why…”
“That remains to be seen.”
“What’s going on?”
