Chapter 10
Lottie
Ihead toward Lethal Lavinia, weaving past carnival games and circus performers warming up for tonight’s show.
A juggler tosses flaming torches. A clown applies greasepaint to his face in front of what looks like a funhouse mirror. A contortionist stretches in ways that make my lower back ache just watching, but I bet Everett would appreciate it if I could pull those moves off after midnight.
And then, in a shower of pink stars, Peanut materializes right beside me in all her gray and wrinkled glory.
“Oh good, you’re investigating!” she says, her tiny trunk swinging with excitement. “I was hoping you’d get started. The suspense is killing me. Well, not literally. I’m already dead. But you know what I mean.”
“We’re talking to Lavinia,” I tell her, keeping my voice low so I don’t look like I’m talking to myself. Not that half the town doesn’t already think I’m a loon.
Peanut’s giant ears perk up. “Lethal Lavinia! She’s terrifying but excellent with peanuts. She gave me an entire bag once. Didn’t even make me do a trick for it. Very generous woman. For a potential murderer, that is.”
I shoot her a look. “We don’t know if she’s a murderer.”
“Yet,” Peanut says cheerfully. “But the odds aren’t great. She throws knives for a living and one of said knives ended up in Jump’s chest. I’m no detective, but even I can connect those dots.”
The elephant makes a compelling case.
The stunning brunette with a long rope-like braid is situated near the side of the tent, throwing knives at a wall covered in balloons. Each throw is precise, deadly, and accompanied by a soft pop as the balloons burst. She doesn’t miss. Not once.
Peanut lets out a low whistle. “She’s very good. I wouldn’t want to make her angry. Well, angrier. She’s been angry a lot lately.”
I glance at her. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, you know. Angry faces. Angry throwing. Angry stomping around backstage muttering things like ‘I’ll kill him’ and ‘he’ll pay for this.’” Peanut pauses. “In hindsight, those were probably clues.”
“How do you know all this? I mean, you weren’t here, were you?”
“Oh heavens no, I was in the great circus tent in the sky. But I’ve been hanging out with all the monkeys since I’ve been back. They’re nothing but a bunch of gossips.”
Of course they are. Even the afterlife runs on piping hot tea in this town.
I clear my throat to get Lavinia’s attention.
She turns with a knife still in her hand, and her eyes narrow. “Can I help you?”
“Hi,” I say, offering a friendly smile. “I’m Lottie Lemon. I run the cookie booth.”
Her expression softens just a fraction. “Oh. The animal crackers. Those are so good.”
“Thank you.” I take a step closer. “I just wanted to say how impressive your act is. I’ve never seen anyone throw knives like that.”
She lowers the blade, her posture relaxing slightly. “It takes practice. Years of it. Most people don’t have the patience.”
“Or the nerve,” I add.
She almost smiles. “That too.”
Peanut hovers near my shoulder, watching Lavinia carefully. “She’s sizing you up. Deciding if you’re a threat or just nosy.”
I ignore her. For the record, I’m both.
“How are you holding up? After everything that happened with Jump?”
Lavinia’s face hardens. “I’m fine. Better than fine, actually.”
Peanut snorts. “See? Angry.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” I say gently.
Lavinia shrugs. “Don’t be. Jump wasn’t exactly a loss. More like a long-overdue exit.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Sounds like you two didn’t get along.”
She lets out a bitter laugh. “That’s putting it mildly.” She glances around, then lowers her voice. “We dated. A long time ago. He said he loved me. Said we’d run away together, start our own circus, be partners in everything.”
“What happened?” I ask softly as the din of conversation ebbs and flows all around us.
“He lied.” Her jaw tightens. “Turned out he was saying the same thing to half the women in the circus. I was just another conquest. Another way to keep people loyal and under his thumb.”
“Oh. That’s sad,” Peanut says. “Though between you and me, Jump had a wandering eye and wandering hands. I once watched him promise three different women they were the one in the span of a single afternoon. And I’m an elephant—we never forget.”
“He wounded my heart,” Lavinia says, her voice flat. “And I don’t forgive easily.”
I nod, keeping my expression sympathetic. “That must have been hard. Working with him every day after that.”
“You have no idea.” She picks up another knife, turning it over in her hands. “But I stayed because I’m good at what I do. And I wasn’t about to let him run me off.”
“How long have you been with the circus?” I ask, trying to keep the conversation moving.
“Ten years. Longer than most of the performers here. Sterling might be the owner, but Jump was in charge. And Jump liked to cycle people through. Keep things fresh. Keep people desperate.” She glances at me. “You saw one of my knives. In his chest.”
It’s not a question.
“I did,” I say carefully.
“I thought I’d misplaced them,” she says, her voice tight. “I reported it to Graham two days ago and told him my knives were missing. He said they’d turn up.” She pauses, her jaw tightening. “But now I’m starting to think someone stole them. Someone trying to frame me.”
“Lavinia, do you know if Jump was having difficulties with anyone else?” I ask.
She shakes her head and I can see her eyes turning red then glossy. “I’d talk to Celeste. Or Milo. They’ve been thick as thieves with Jump lately. Especially Celeste. She practically worshiped him.”
There’s something in her tone. Jealousy, maybe? Bitterness? Whatever it is, it’s been marinating for a good long while.
“What do you mean by worshiped?” I ask.
Lavinia’s mouth twists. “She followed him around like a puppy. Hung on his every word. Laughed at all his jokes, even the terrible ones. It was pathetic, honestly.”
Peanut tilts her head. “That doesn’t sound like worship. That sounds like someone playing a part.”
I file that away for later.
“Why do you think Jump was so close to them as of late?” I press gently.
“Because he must have trusted them. And Jump didn’t trust anyone unless he had dirt on them. Or unless they had something he wanted.” Lavinia spins the knife in her hand. “If you really want to know what Jump was up to, they’re your best bet.”
“Do you think one of them could have done the deed? You know, killed him?”
She shrugs. “I think a lot of people wanted him dead. Myself included. But wanting and doing are two different things.”
Peanut snorts. “In Honey Hollow? That line is about as thin as a tightrope made of wax with a candle underneath it. And we all know how those end.”
Lavinia glances at her watch. “I need to get back to practice. I like to catch a nap before the show starts.”
“Of course,” I say. “It was nice getting to know you better. And it was really nice chatting with you.”
She nods, already turning back to her balloons. “Good luck with everything. You’re going to need it.”
I’m choosing to believe she means the kids.
We part ways, and Peanut floats alongside me, practically bouncing.
“She’s hiding something,” Peanut says. “Something big. And I bet it’s scandalous. The way she said Celeste worshiped Jump? That wasn’t jealousy. That was littered with rage. Pure, unadulterated rage.”
“You think so?”
“I know so. Elephants are excellent judges of character. It’s a survival thing.” She swishes her tail. “She’s hurt. Deeply. And when people are hurt like that, they do desperate things.”
“Like throw knives?”
“That’s the only way to do it.”
I’m about to respond when I hear screaming from across the tent. I turn, and my jaw drops.
Carlotta is dangling from a trapeze, upside down, one leg hooked precariously around the bar. She’s fully clothed, but somehow her shirt has ridden up, exposing her entire midsection to the crowd gathering below, and she seems to have two pale, floppy socks hitting her in the face.
Oh my goodness, those aren’t socks.
Mayor Nash is on the ground, hands cupped around his mouth, yelling, “CARLOTTA, LET GO! THERE’S A NET!”
“I KNOW THERE’S A NET, HARRY!” Carlotta shouts back as she gets a mouthful of boob. “I’M PRACTICING MY DISMOUNT!”
“YOU DON’T HAVE A DISMOUNT!” Nash bellows. “YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH!”
Carlotta attempts to swing herself upright, her arms flailing wildly. She manages to grab the bar with one hand, loses her grip, and crashes into the safety net below with a resounding THWUMP.
The net bounces. Carlotta bounces with it. And then she pops up, grinning from ear to ear as she tucks her bits and pieces back into place, her hair standing on end as if she just stuck her finger in a socket.
“Did you see that, Lot?” she calls out, waving. “I’m a natural!”
I bury my face in my hands. “This week is going to kill me.”
Peanut giggles as she floats toward the ceiling. “At least you’ll have company! I’m already dead!”
I glance at the elephant, then at Carlotta, who’s now attempting to climb out of the net and failing miserably, those pale, floppy socks of hers slapping her in the face in rhythm.
Between murder suspects and flying Carlottas, I’m starting to think the real danger at this circus isn’t the killer. It’s surviving until Saturday.
Finally, I collect the girls, the cats, and my sweet baby boys—okay, fine, I collect Carlotta too. We head outside and I glance down at the sign-up table and do the unthinkable. I jot my name down for the Local Legends performance, and so do Ava and Olivia.
At least that gives us reason to be here all week.
Along with a killer.