Chapter Fifteen
Once the authorities left, Cricket found Juniper walking away from Stormy toward her caravan. She caught up with her, noticing tears beading along her lashes and worry filling her gaze.
“What is it?” Cricket asked and immediately cursed herself for it. “Sorry, that was a foolish question.”
“If I’m to be honest, I’m frightened. But not for me, for you. After the letter…” she finished the last part in a whisper.
Cricket sighed. She would be a liar if she didn’t say she was at least a little frightened too. “I couldn’t hold onto it—I gave it to Bram. It wasn’t hard for him to know I was hiding something. Thankfully, he will see if he can find a match for the handwriting.”
Juniper nodded and seemed to fold in on herself. “I should’ve thought about that. But what about the others? The carnival will be closed again, so you need to keep quiet about it. Mistress Eliza isn’t the only one in a raging mood.”
Mistress Eliza wasn’t a fool—even without the letter, she would still assume that there was a possible link between the victims and Cricket due to the dahlias, the hair, the eyes... “For now, I’m not telling anyone. However, Bram wants someone to stay with me, and—”
“I don’t mind staying with you!” Juniper chirped, her eyes wide.
“He suggested Zephyr, but if you—”
“No, that’s perfect. My brother’s great with blades and can use his vines to cut down anyone who tries to hurt you.”
That was true—Zephyr was great with swords and daggers, could easily hit the center of anything he put his mind to. While his vines could be lethal if he so chose. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. I know you’ve been having trouble sleeping, and you shouldn’t be alone. Would you want to stay with me anyway?”
Juniper bit her lip. “Stormy actually just offered for me to stay with her, but I told her I was fine.”
A small smile curled the edges of Cricket’s lips. “I think you should, and not only to protect one another, but maybe to tell her how you feel?”
Juniper’s cheeks pinkened. “Now’s not the time to discuss that . But I suppose I will take her offer. It would be less cramped with two people.” She rested a hand on Cricket’s shoulder. “Just be careful. Every time I see or hear about death, it reminds me of my parents. So with you seeing this, so close to how you died, I can’t imagine what you’re feeling.”
“I just want this bastard found.” It was hard, but other situations had been harder. Losing her brother to the plague was a worse fate. She wondered how often her parents were still thinking about her. No matter what, she promised herself she would one day find them, let them know she was aliv e as soon as the murderer was caught. With her being taunted, even if she knew where they were, it was better they not discover the truth in case something happened to her again.
As she parted ways with Juniper, she rounded one of the caravans and found Zephyr talking to Mistress Eliza and Autumn. When his gaze locked on hers, Cricket chewed the inside of her cheek and motioned him to walk with her.
“How are you?” Zephyr asked as he sauntered up beside her.
She shrugged, wishing she could get the simple question out.
“Need a drink?” he asked, fishing out the flask and handing it to her.
“I need a favor,” she said but took a sip from the flask first, letting the liquor calm her nerves.
“I remember the last time we dabbled in favors—it wasn’t good. You still owe me one, remember?” He smirked, tucking the flask back into his trouser pocket. “But I’ll allow you a favor anyway.”
She rolled her eyes and folded her arms, her tongue like lead inside her mouth. “I was wondering if… This will sound ridiculous, but Bram wants you to stay with me. He’s worried about me, and now that I think about it, maybe it isn’t necessary since there are plenty of performers near my caravan...” Cricket trailed off, not revealing the true reason why Bram wanted Zephyr to stay with her.
He grasped her arm gently and drew her closer, his woodsy scent steadying her. “Would you want me to?”
“I suppose it wasn’t so terrible when you were there last night,” she murmured, attempting to sound more careless and failing.
“You’re going to think me a bastard for saying this now, but I would stay with you under any circumstance.” He lifted her chin so his hazel eyes fastened on hers. “ Any .”
“I think your expectations of staying with me are a bit too high. I’m quite the stickler of where I like things to go.” She smiled.
“Then you can come to mine.” He grabbed her hand and tugged her forward. “I promise I’ll keep my hands to myself unless you ask me not to.”
“Stay with you?” She laughed, pulling him to a stop. “I thought you liked having your space to yourself?” Most of the performers had to share a caravan except for a few who brought in good wages from their performances. Cricket was lucky Mistress Eliza hadn’t moved her when she’d awoken.
Zephyr held up a finger. “Seems I changed my mind. Besides, my caravan is farther away from where the body was found. Maybe it would be less of a reminder if you need it.”
She didn’t think the memory would fade for a while, regardless. After another woman’s body had been discovered so soon, more than ever, the killer had to be found. She didn’t know if she could take any more macabre dead bodies decorated in bloody dahlias.
“I will then, but only on the condition that if I do something ridiculous, like spill secrets in my sleep, you promise not to tell anyone.” Cricket smiled, and her shoulders relaxed.
“Secrets, you say?” Zephyr grinned while pretending as though he was sewing his lips shut.
She released a sigh. “Thank you. I’m just relieved Mistress Eliza has allowed me to stay.”
His hand glided down her arm, stopping at her wrist, and he drew her close. “It’ll stay that way. You’ll get a hold of your curiosity, and the murderer will be hung. The authorities found yours before, and this one will be found too.”
Some cases weren’t solved as quickly—she knew that—but she hoped this one was coming to a close sooner rather than later.
“I think we need a break,” he continued. “The carnival will be closed, so let me take you into the city.”
She lifted her brows. It would be a wonderful distraction, and perhaps she could find out something about the latest victim, Joanna. “I’ll gladly take the offer.”
As she grabbed her satchel from the caravan, Wilder and Arthur carried buckets of water, pouring them over where the remaining blood stained the dirt until it was as if a body had never been there at all.
Zephyr met Cricket outside her home, wearing a white shirt that hugged his arms perfectly. He left a few buttons at his chest undone, the collar at his throat on display.
Together they walked into the city, the sun shining brightly above. Thick, puffy clouds that she could easily make animal shapes out of floated slowly across the blue sky.
The shops bustled with life, and a woman carrying a large stack of tomes hurried past them. They approached a white-bricked pub called the Garland that she and Anika used to frequent. Zephyr opened the door, and the smell of tobacco smoke clung to the air. A few men and women sat at tables smoking cigars or pipes. Old, faded maps hung across the wooden walls, and thick green velvet curtains cloaked the windows. At the bar, a familiar face was wiping the counters with a wet rag, her frilly green dress rustling as she scrubbed harder. The young blonde-haired woman, Leslie, turned when they sat at the counter. She halted as she studied Cricket with her pale blue eyes. A chill ran up her spine that Leslie would be a perfect fit for the murderer.
“Hello, Leslie,” Cricket said, remembering how when she used to come in here, the young woman would laugh and tell jokes to her and Anika.
“You’re back,” she stuttered.
From the dead? Why yes, yes I am , she wanted to say, but she held her tongue.
“Gossip spread about a month ago that the carnival necromancer had brought you back from the grave. I’m just relieved they caught that awful bastard.” Leslie huffed, no longer surprised by Cricket’s visit. “What can I get for you? It’s on me.”
“A bowl of lamb soup and a whiskey,” Cricket said.
“I’ll have the same.” Zephyr passed Leslie a few silver coins, but she batted his hand away before leaving them alone to go into the kitchen.
Zephyr inched closer to Cricket, whispering in her ear, his breath warm against her neck. “I have a confession. A little secret I’ve been keeping.”
“Color me intrigued. What is it?” she drawled.
“I remember seeing you when you would visit the carnival.”
She rolled her eyes. “I doubt it. There are so many faces in each crowd and too many performances to remember someone.”
“That’s usually true,” he purred. “But not someone who comes to almost every performance and sits front and center. Your blue eyes were always wide in amazement as you watched each act.”
Heat rose up Cricket’s neck. She averted her gaze from his and peered down at her hands. “I mean, I suppose I liked the carnival.”
“I would’ve asked you back to my caravan if you’d approached me after the performance, but I’m certain I would’ve received a slap across the face.” He smirked.
“I’m certain.” She laughed softly just as Leslie returned with two bowls of steaming soup, the savory aroma delicious.
“You hear about the murdered girl this morning?” Leslie asked as she poured them both a glass of whiskey.
“Only that her name’s Joanna, and she worked at the meat shop.”
Leslie nodded. “Joanna was here last night and drank so much she could barely walk. When the authorities came in here earlier, I told them that she’d gone to the inn across the road. She’d been staying there a while since it was all she could afford. I always watched her go into it, made sure she was safe. But someone must’ve been waiting for her inside her room. One of the inn’s servants told me she found blood when she came in to make up the room this morning. How Joanna ended up at the carnival, though, is beyond me?”
“She was murdered at the inn?” Zephyr scrunched his face, seeming to mull it over.
“Someone must’ve brought her to the carnival after...” Cricket trailed off.
“The question is, why do that, though?” Leslie’s gaze held Cricket’s, and her chest tightened, thinking about the note she’d given to Bram. “Something to think about.” She stepped away, grabbed her wet rag, and cleaned an empty table.
“That is quite the conundrum,” Zephyr muttered, bringing a spoonful of soup to his lips.
“Quite.” Cricket sighed. The body was brought for her to see and retrieve the note. A sick and twisted gift of sorts.
She forced down the soup, even though she’d lost her appetite. Taking the glass, she polished the whiskey off. She wanted another drink, but she needed her head to be clear.
“Watch over yourself,” Cricket called to Leslie before they left, and as the woman’s blue eyes met her own, she hoped she remained safe.
“Can’t help not to. Just wish I knew if there was another reason they’re chosen,” Leslie said, turning the cloth over and scrubbing a new table.
As Cricket and Zephyr stepped outside, Charles passed them on his horse and stopped in front of the inn across the street.
“Cricket?” Charles said, hopping down from his horse and studying them both. “What are you two doing here?” His voice sounded suspicious.
“Just grabbed a bite to eat after a long day,” Zephyr said, narrowing his eyes.
“I suggest going back to the carnival. The town isn’t going to take too kindly on what happened.” Charles frowned. “We’ll be patrolling the road near there from now on.”
Cricket pressed her lips in a tight line to keep from telling him that the murder had occurred at the inn and not the carnival, but it wouldn’t matter. They were just carnival filth to him at this point.
“Come on, Zephyr. Let’s go.” Cricket pulled on his wrist, and he circled his arm around her shoulders.
“We don’t have to go home just because that bastard tells us to,” Zephyr grumbled.
She would’ve liked to distract herself by walking around the city, but now she just wanted to go home. “It’s all right. I just want to bathe a long while in the lake.” Zephyr arched his brow. “Alone.” She laughed.
The walk back to the carnival was nice, quiet—flocks of birds flew past them without so much as a caw. Once she reached her caravan, Cricket gathered a change of clothing and dropped a bag of her things at Zephyr’s before bathing in the lake. A few other performers were washing themselves at the opposite end, so she wasn’t alone, which was better—she didn’t know if someone could be lingering in the woods somewhere.
Night hadn’t fallen yet, but a fire was already blazing. Most of the performers were there, chatting to one another. Mistress Eliza motioned her over with a finger. “If you haven’t heard, one of the young authorities, I can’t recall his name, but not Bram, came back and mentioned how the victim wasn’t murdered here but at an inn. It’s quite strange.”
Cricket waited with bated breath for Mistress Eliza to send her away. The only one in danger at the carnival was Cricket, but she would be in danger no matter where she went.
“You might want to cover that pretty hair of yours up while we’re here.”
“I will.” She still had a few wigs from when she was the Sleeping Darling. Perhaps she should’ve worn one earlier when they’d gone into town too.
Night descended, and the stars lit up the sky. Cricket found Zephyr sitting beside Juniper and Stormy, throwing small sticks into the crackling flames. She knelt beside him, her muscles heavy. “Do you mind walking me to your caravan since you have the key? I’m tired.”
“It’s fine. I’ll turn in, too,” he said and pushed himself up.
Cricket bid goodnight to Juniper and Stormy before she and Zephyr comfortably walked side by side. Once inside his home, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Thank you for the distraction today.”
His eyes widened, but he didn’t say a word as she removed her boots and slipped into his bed.