Chapter 32
Everett
The merchandise booth is a carnival of chaos.
Stuffed animals dangle from every available hook, T-shirts hang in every color the human eye can register, and there’s enough circus memorabilia crammed in here to stock a modest museum.
Evie, Ava, and Olivia are clustered around a display of hoodies, and based on the gleam in three sets of eyes, I already know this is going to cost me.
“Dad, look at these!” Ava says, holding up a pink hoodie with a glittering circus tent across the front.
“They glow in the dark,” Olivia adds, her voice hushed with wonder.
“And they play music,” Evie says, pressing a button on the sleeve. A tiny tune wheezes out of the fabric.
“Please, Dad?” Ava begs. “They’re perfect. We need them.”
I reach for the price tag, prepared to be reasonable about it.
Two hundred and fifty dollars.
Each?
I look at the tag, then at the hoodie, then back at the tag, on the theory that one of them might reconsider. “I believe they’ve added a zero by mistake. Nothing made of cotton and a battery costs this much.”
Ava and Olivia drop into synchronized begging formation, eyes huge, hands clasped, voices pitched to the exact frequency engineered to make a grown man feel like he kicks puppies for sport.
“Please, Dad!”
“We’ll never ask for anything ever again!”
“It’s a memory we’ll cherish forever!”
Evie steps in and nods along, sage as a well-seasoned attorney.
“Don’t overthink it, Dad.” She winces, then plays her card.
“Think of it this way. You’re making memories with your girls.
” She gives a small shrug, as though that’s the whole of her case for the defense.
I’ll admit, it’s a decent one. I’ve ruled in favor of worse.
I look at the three of them, Evie with her closing argument, the twins with their puppy-dog artillery, and I know the verdict was in before the trial started.
“Fine,” I say, reaching for my wallet. “But grab one for Lyla Nell. And for Lemon. And what the heck, throw one in for Carlotta too.”
Ava jumps up and down. “Cray Cray is going to love this!”
The girls descend on the display the way locusts descend on a wheat field, sweeping up hoodies in every size.
That’s when I spot Noah, sprinting toward me through the crowd like a man with a head start on bad news.
I turn to Evie. “Watch the girls.”
I hand her my credit card and step away.
I don’t make it three feet before Ava’s voice rings out across the fairgrounds. “WE HAVE A CREDIT CARD!”
The girls cackle and shriek, and I make a quiet note to review my statement first thing tomorrow, possibly with a lawyer of my own.
“Should I be afraid?” I murmur to no one.
Noah pulls up short before he can flatten me, breathless and wild around the eyes.
“Where’s Lottie?” he pants, craning to see past me.
I frown. “I assumed she was outside checking on her cookies. The second half’s about to start, so she should be heading back any minute. Why? What’s going on?”
Noah’s jaw tightens. “I think I know who killed Jump. And I’d very much like to reach Lottie before she reaches them.”
A low growl works its way up my throat before I can stop it. “Then let’s go find the killer, you genius.”
Noah scans the crowd. “Let’s.”
Because if Lemon has already found the killer…
The killer has already found Lemon.