Chapter Twelve
Too exhausted to bathe in the frigid lake, Cricket discarded her filthy clothes and fell into bed. For what was left of the night, she took turns staring at the lantern’s flickering flame or the ceiling above her, unable to sleep. Cricket wondered if one of the victims had been awoken, would they have seen the murderer as she had with Clancy, or was this person trickier? Her gut believed the second choice especially since there had now been four murders linked to the same person in such a short time frame, and nothing seemed to bring the authorities closer to finding the bastard. Either way, answers wouldn’t be coming from the dead any time soon, no matter how much she wished they would, so Cricket decided she needed to come up with something else.
Through the window, the night was ascending, and the day creeping in. Shoving away the blankets, she balled them up in the corner of her room to be washed later. She then sifted through her wardrobe until she found a comfortable, simple dress to wear after bathing in the lake. As she opened the door, an array of bright colors embellished the sky. With all the devilish things going on, there was still beauty in the world, in nature. Unable to stop herself, she peeked at Zephyr’s caravan as she passed it. She thought about their conversation from the prior night, how he’d never been in love, how he bedded women on his travels, most only for a single night. Then she couldn’t help but wonder if he was still asleep and how he slept. Did he leave his trousers on or off? And did he cover himself with his blankets or let his bare skin feel the air? A sensual feeling pooled low in her stomach. Enough of that .
A gust of wind blew past her, carrying the scent of pine and earth. Twigs snapped, and leaves crunched just ahead before Stormy pushed out from the woods, her dark hair in a wet plait. She carried a large satchel over one shoulder, and a black and white checkered full-body one-piece hugged her curvy form.
“The water’s freezing this morning,” Stormy said, her teeth chattering. “Juniper’s somehow managing to stay in there and not turn into ice.”
Juniper had been bathing with Stormy? It was nothing new for performers to share a lake or a pond to bathe, but she still fought a smile as she approached the glistening water.
“Don’t you dare say a word,” Juniper huffed when her green irises met Cricket’s. She pressed a finger to her lips as if Cricket might call Stormy back to tease about the situation.
“Dear Juniper, what ever would I be bringing up on this lovely morning?” Cricket laughed softly while removing her boots and peeling her nightgown from her body. An unpleasant smell of sweat hit her senses, and she yearned for the wash, no matter how cold the lake was. She stepped into the frigid water, her body trembling as she clasped her bar of lavender soap.
“So,” Cricket continued with a grin as she drew closer to Juniper. “Did you two come together?”
“I was here first.” She paused, dipping her head back into the lake so it wet her red curls further. “For a while, actually.”
“Did anything, you know, happen?” Cricket’s grin widened as she ran the soap bar across her face, then through her hair.
Juniper heaved a sigh. “No, I think she’s still in love with Louise. She didn’t discuss her, but I’m waiting for them to get back together. Things I wish for don’t generally happen. I wouldn’t want to be of temporary use either. Not that I have experience with that . I’m pitiful, really.”
Cricket’s expression softened. “Sometimes people may still think they love another because of old feelings, but then they finally realize that’s all they are. It’s not how they feel in the present, but the past. Until, one day, they notice something that has been right in front of them all along.”
“Whatever makes her happy is good enough for me,” Juniper said, dipping below the water, her eyes almost melancholic. “Last night, I wasn’t able to sleep well after the victim was found near here. And I don’t think I have the right when you’re back in the town where you were murdered.”
A murderer that was mimicking what happened to Cricket… The image of the body found yesterday flickered in her mind—the woman’s torn chest, the dahlias decorating her corpse. And then her thoughts turned to the victim she’d unburied with Zephyr—the rotting flesh, the loss of innocence. Cricket had been revived, but she wasn’t the young woman she had been. She would never be her again. Still, at least she had a second chance at life—a chance to see where the new door would lead her.
“You have the right, just as much as anyone. I visited Bram yesterday, and he went straight to the authorities, so I don’t know if he’s discovered who the woman is yet. Though I’m certain we’ll hear something soon, especially if she was at the carnival. If the murderer continues on the same path and chooses another victim, they will most likely be blonde with blue eyes. Most of the female performers here have dark hair … or red hair.” She tugged at one of Juniper’s wet curls. “So I believe everyone here will be safe, at least.”
“Except for you, Cricket,” Juniper whispered. “You have blonde hair and blue eyes.”
A chill ran up her spine, and it wasn’t just from the cold water. “I’m all right. The only time I’ve ventured to town was yesterday when Zephyr escorted me, and then the coachman took me back.”
“Just please don’t go out alone. Promise me.”
Cricket could see the concern flickering in Juniper’s green eyes, and she didn’t want to worry her further. Even though they’d just been in the city where Juniper and Zephyr were murdered, she hadn’t shown a hint of worry, not like now. But there hadn’t been a murderer like this on the loose. “I promise. If you find another night when you can’t sleep, you’re always welcome to stay with me. Unless you would rather stay with Stormy ?” she drawled.
Juniper’s cheeks turned a bright shade of pink, and she splashed water at Cricket, making her laugh.
“I wish I could stop being so shy,” Juniper said, her shoulders hunching. “I’ve always been this way, even as a child, more so when we first came to the carnival. My brother has always been the outgoing one.”
Cricket’s smile spread. “Really? I never could’ve guessed that about him. But I can be shy, too—it just depends on who I’m around. Like you don’t seem quiet around me. So I suppose that means we’re good friends now. And when you’re on the stage, you’re natural and whimsical with a bit of the macabre.”
“I’ve never heard blood coming from my flesh described as whimsical, but thank you.” Juniper’s face lit up, her radiant smile becoming wider than Cricket’s. “My brother likes you, you know.”
“He likes that I haven’t gone to his bed.” Cricket rolled her eyes. She remembered their conversation, how Zephyr had admitted he’d never fallen in love with anyone he’d bedded. Cricket herself had only been intimate once in her life, when she and Bram had shared too many glasses of wine. And though she dreamt of travel and adventure, Cricket had always wanted to fall in love with someone who truly loved her in return, not someone simply looking for a body to warm his bed.
Juniper sighed. “Zephyr is just afraid of losing someone, is all, so he shuts those feelings out and focuses on his performance. Being perfect at it, perhaps a bit too perfect. But I think you’re starting to chip away at that piece by piece.”
Cricket wasn’t certain if that was it or if Juniper just wanted there to be a reason for why he did it. Either way, it was his life, and she would rather not think about it anymore. “How long are we going to stay in here? I’m freezing and starving.”
“It’s not even cold,” Juniper said and swam toward the lake’s edge. Cricket huffed and followed her.
A group of performers stepped through the trees to bathe after Cricket slipped on her boots. As she and Juniper neared the caravans, several people were participating in a game of swordplay. Others ate and chatted or watched Arthur play his flute. Wilder poured them each a bowl of grits when they approached.
Cricket took a seat next to Juniper close to the fire. Juniper practically inhaled her breakfast as Cricket blew on the grits to cool it down first. “I think your curiosity may prevent you from being affected by temperature.” Cricket laughed softly.
“If only. I—” She shrieked and almost dropped her bowl when Zephyr tickled her ribs. “Stop sneaking up on me!”
“Oh, hush, you should’ve noticed me. I didn’t slither across the ground like a snake,” Zephyr said as he plopped down beside his sister. A few smudges of dirt that he hadn’t removed from the night before rested on his forehead and along his neck below the leather collar. His gaze drifted to Cricket, lingering on her for a beat too long before focusing back on Juniper. “I have something for you,” he said, placing a compact mirror with swirling designs etched in the silver into her palm. “Found it the other night in the tent, and no one’s claimed it, so it’s yours.”
“I love finding left-behind trinkets,” Juniper squeaked, staring in awe while rotating it in her hand. She opened the mirror to look at herself before snapping it closed and sneaking it into her bag as if someone would take it from her.
“I better go bathe. Cricket and I had a long night last night, didn’t we?” Zephyr smirked and Juniper’s eyes widened.
Cricket shook her head with a sigh. “A night I’d like to forget.”
Cricket straightened her spine in the chair while staring at herself in the vanity mirror. She lifted her hands and watched as her skin turned translucent, then changed back to her peach complexion. In case she needed it, she’d removed a dried rose petal and had rested it atop her vanity beside her powders. No matter how much she focused, the flowers wouldn’t come. Not roses. Not dahlias. And not even a slight scratching.
She’d been at it for a long while when a hard knock pounded on the door, startling her. Her lips parted in surprise when she found Bram standing there, his hair disheveled and his face grim. She knew at some point he would come, but she hadn’t assumed it would be this soon … unless the death had something to do with the carnival.
“What did you find out? Did you discover if the victim had been at the carnival?” Cricket asked, taking a deep swallow.
“May I come inside for a moment?” Bram sighed, his tone off. By the looks of his scowl, he wasn’t in a good mood.
Cricket motioned him into her caravan and folded her arms after shutting the door. “Don’t keep me in suspense. You know how anxious I get.”
“First, thank you for staying with Anika. She’s much better today, and I think it’s because she had you there.” His voice shifted as though he couldn’t help but be grateful above all things.
“Of course. I’ve missed her. Now, what’s the real reason you’re here?”
“The victim from yesterday wasn’t at the carnival. She’d been working at the bakery, then at night, she’d gone to a pub with a friend and left alone.” His voice was nearly a whisper, as though he didn’t want spying ears to hear him. “You didn’t have to go dig up a victim’s grave , Cricket.”
She inhaled sharply through her nose and kept a straight face. “A victim’s grave was dug up? Oh my. Those blasted thieves venture to the cemetery all the time.”
Bram pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly frustrated. “They do, but it seems quite suspicious that you discovered Phoebe’s name yesterday, and then an attendant at the cemetery reported to authorities this morning to say he believed her grave had been disturbed.”
Cricket knew Bram, and he would not drop the matter until he heard the truth. “Oh, fine, it was me. I dug up her body, then attempted a bit of necromancy to try and get answers. Put me in manacles if you must.” She wouldn’t mention Zephyr and get him in trouble simply for helping her.
His brows lifted, and he drew closer. “You mean Mistress Eliza tried. Was she able to?”
“Don’t you think I would’ve come straight to you if she had? I just wanted to get answers. Could you possibly locate another necromancer?” Not that any were easy to come by…
“I’ve tried to get Charles to look for one, yet he refuses. However, I’m going to attempt to do so now. When I was searching for your murderer, I planned to travel to the carnival myself, but I sent a letter to see if Mistress Eliza could try to rouse you. By the time I received a response that she wouldn’t be able to, Clancy had already been caught and hung.”
She blinked. “I didn’t know you did that.”
“I didn’t know the reason she wouldn’t be able to was because you were in a deep slumber either.”
“Fate made it all work out, though.” Except there was still a murderer skulking around that needed to be put to death, just like Clancy.