Candy-Coated Secrets Page 7

  She set the jar precisely in the center of the table on a homemade doily. “Ain’t it pretty?”

  “It’s a jar of pickles.” Aunt Eunice’s face fell. Now I’d hurt her feelings. “I’m sorry. You know I’m not a morning person. They’re beautiful.”

  “Hmmph. That’s no reason to be rude.” She gathered her baby in her arms and stomped from the room.

  Aunt Eunice wasn’t the only one who needed to apologize to someone. With a deep sigh, I followed her outside, grabbing my purse and Bible on the way.

  She sat behind the wheel of her truck, a smug grin on her face. “I’m driving. Your uncle will meet us there.”

  We entered the church foyer, and I turned toward the coffee bar. Aunt Eunice went to find her friends. I ordered my usual and plopped into the nearest wrought iron chair and café table to indulge in my favorite pastime. Watching people.

  Things were more colorful this morning. A handful of the carnies were in attendance, either because they were believers or because they were trying to relieve their boredom. Some arrived in colorful costumes, some dressed like ordinary folk, and others came in their everyday dirt and body odor. They kept to themselves, apparently used to being shunned, even by churchgoers. A group of women actually shrank back when the group passed, stopping a few feet from me. My heart clinched.

  As is my norm, I acted impulsively and stepped to the coffee bar. “Frappuccinos for all my carnie friends.”

  Smiles widened their faces, while incredulous looks replaced the revulsion on some of the parishioners. Soon the coffee bar became a party. Worship music piped through the speakers, and when Ethan finished greeting our fellow arrivals, I introduced him to my friends. My heart swelled with pride as he shook every hand and clapped every man on the back no matter how strongly they smelled.

  Washington engulfed Ethan in a hug. “You got yore self a fine woman there, Mister Ethan. A fine woman.”

  Ethan winked at me. “Yes, I do.” He excused himself and made his way to my side. “How are you going to pay for all these drinks?”

  “I have no idea.” Nor did I care. The smiles on the people’s faces made the cost worth every penny.

  “I’ll help.” Ethan pulled me close for a hug. “You are a priceless treasure, Summer Meadows.”

  From my seat in the bleachers, I whooped and hollered when Ethan charged past on his horse. The participants lined up in the middle of the rodeo ring. He sat a head taller than the majority. My heart swelled. The sun highlighted Ethan’s golden curls like a halo as he waved his hat. He looked so beautiful, I wanted to cry. My cowboy/bronc-riding angel.

  The spectators roared as each town member’s name rang over the loudspeaker. Some booed with the announcement of participants from neighboring towns and cities. The stands were full. A person couldn’t help but get caught up in the excitement.

  Rodeo clowns goofed around as the cowboys rode in a circle. One actually had a lasso that he tried roping the riders with.

  Aunt Eunice plopped next to me with a huff. “Got my pickles ready.”

  “She wouldn’t rest until another jar sat on the judge’s table.” Uncle Roy sat down and removed his baseball cap. He pulled a red and white bandanna from his pocket and wiped his forehead. “Since everyone heard the ruckus she made in regards to her pickles disappearing, they let her reenter, late as it is. Judging’s this afternoon. Right after the rodeo.”

  “I’m so glad for you, Aunt Eunice.” I gave her a one-armed hug and let my gaze travel the dirt track around the ring. Eddy Foreman and his father stood beside the announcer’s box, along with Miss Curvy Platinum Blonde. I was glad Foreman had transferred his attention to someone more receptive.

  Big Sally sat at the bottom of the bleachers, her tiny boyfriend next to her. Washington Bean and several of the other carnies who’d visited church leaned against the wooden rodeo railing. Most of them noticed me sitting above them and waved.

  “That was a good thing you did this morning,” Uncle Roy said, patting my knee. “The pastor used it in his sermon. Your good deed got incorporated into the lesson he wanted to teach. He taught on compassion and loving our brother.”

  “I was ashamed, Uncle Roy. When I witnessed some women shrink back in distaste, it hurt. I’ve been guilty of that myself. Plenty of times.”

  A roar rose from the crowd. Ethan’s student was the first to burst into the ring, giving the best time in the calf roping contest. I cringed as he leaped from his horse, threw the calf to the ground, and wrapped the rope around its legs. Fully aware the act didn’t hurt the animal, it still looked as if it did, and sometimes the calf ’s bawling tugged at my heart.

  The next competition was barrel racing. I wasn’t familiar with any of the contestants, and my attention wandered. Catching a glimpse of the Ferris wheel out of the corner of my eye, I shivered and made a vow never to ride on one again.

  Aunt Eunice leaned over and whispered in my ear. “We ought to be out snooping until it’s time for Ethan to ride.”

  “Snoop for what? We don’t know anything.”

  “That’s my point. We ought to talk to the owner of that hog, for one. Find out what set her off.”

  Chills ran down my spine. “No, thanks.”

  “And we ought to look around for a gorilla costume. Find the costume, find the culprit.”

  The people in the stands groaned as a rider fell from her horse, then cheered when she got to her feet. I frowned at my aunt. “We can’t go into people’s trailers.” Can we? I’d been contemplating the same thing. Itching to get to the bottom of things. How far could we go in our investigating before we stepped outside the boundaries of the law?

  “I don’t see why not. We aren’t going to take anything.”

  “Uncle Roy, talk some sense into her, won’t you?”

  He shook his head. “Won’t do any good. She’s a hard-headed woman.”

  Good grief. “I’m not going anywhere until the rodeo is over.”

  Aunt Eunice folded her arms. “I don’t think you’re serious about solving this. After the rodeo is the pickle judging. I won’t be available to help you then.” She dug into her purse. “Here’s a new book for you. Since you’re so all-fire set on reading them.”

  “Thanks.” I turned the small book over. A Layman’s Guide to Spying. Wonderful. I didn’t have the heart to tell her I’d already bought a book on that subject. After making sure no one watched me, I slipped the book into the denim backpack next to my feet. Well, I did say I wanted a sidekick. It seemed like Aunt Eunice would be an active and willing participant.

  I squirmed on the hard wooden bleacher. April leaned against the split-rail fence surrounding the arena and talked to Joe. The entire fairgrounds stretched in front of me, beckoning, and I had no idea where to start looking for answers. Questioning everyone of the appropriate size of my gorilla friend would take days. What did my investigating book advise? Interview prospective suspects. I agreed with my aunt. Time to pound the dirt-packed surface of the midway and ask questions.

  The announcer called Ethan’s name. I straightened, my eyes fixated on the gate. I gasped along with everyone else when Ethan’s mount, a coal black mustang by the name of Diablo, burst into the ring, Ethan on his back. A demon from hell with an angel riding its back. My heart pounded with excitement.

  The horse locked his forelegs and bucked, landing with bone-jarring thuds to the ground. Dust hovered knee-deep around him and his rider. Back stiff and arm waving, Ethan stuck tight, and the crowd rose to their feet with a roar when they announced Ethan’s time. Eight point three seconds. It would be hard for anyone to beat him.

  My hands hurt from clapping. Uncle Roy gave a redneck yell and tears poured down Aunt Eunice’s cheeks. Ethan jumped from Diablo’s back, banged the dust off his jeans with his cowboy hat, and bowed to the crowd.

  The sound of gunfire split the air.

  Chapter Eleven

  My heart stopped. Ethan dove for the ground. Diablo fell to his knees, then rolled onto h
is side. The horse struggled to regain his footing, only to collapse. The stands erupted in a volcano of noise. Fear as thick as the dust surrounding the rodeo ring clogged my throat.

  Screams, yells, curses, and stomping feet swept over me as spectators jostled their way out of the stands. Like freshly beheaded chickens, people darted in each direction. Uncle Roy pulled a fallen woman to her feet and steered her away from us. Another lady cried for her baby.

  I stood on the seat and craned to see Ethan. Uncle Roy moved to stand behind me and Aunt Eunice, his strong arms wrapped around both of us. Aunt Eunice slid to her knees.

  “Get down, Summer.”

  “I’ve got to get to Ethan.” I pushed against my uncle. “Let go of me.”

  Uncle Roy lifted me off my feet. “Not until the crowd disappears. Please, sweetie. At least duck out of sight. The shooter is still out there.”

  Tears blurred my vision as my uncle shoved me to the floor of the bleachers. From my peripheral vision, I made out Joe, sprinting, weapon in hand, to the rodeo ring. Another officer headed in the opposite direction, presumably from where the shot originated.

  When Joe helped Ethan to his feet, I bolted from beneath the protective covering of my uncle’s arms, thundered down the steps of the bleachers, then burst into the rodeo ring. “Ethan!”

  I hurled myself into his arms. “Are you all right? You aren’t hurt, are you?”

  “No. I’m fine. I heard the report and dove. Diablo doesn’t appear to be as lucky.”

  The horse whinnied. The whites of his eyes showed. Scarlet stained the dirt beneath him.

  I hid my face in Ethan’s chest, reveling in the feel of his heartbeat. Breathing in the scent of dust and perspiration. Thank You, God. I’ll never take another one of Ethan’s breaths for granted.

  His arms tightened around me as he pulled me behind the protection of the announcer’s stand. He cupped his hands around my face. “When I heard that gun, I thought this is the day. This is when I lose my Summer.” Tears welled in his eyes.

  With those words, the enormity of Ethan’s love washed over me as gentle as a spring rain. I was seriously in danger of drowning in his eyes, suffocating beneath the warm blanket of his love. What a way to go.

  “I hate to break up the lovefest,” Joe said, taking my elbow. “But we’ve got to get the two of you safely into a building.”

  “Not the livestock one,” I told him. “I won’t go in there.”

  Ethan shot out a hand to stop Joe. “How’s Diablo?”

  “Lost a lot of blood. The rodeo vet is checking him out. Said it doesn’t appear as if the bullet hit anything vital. My concern is for you two.”

  Joe veered toward the arts and crafts building. Ethan remained glued to my other side, with Aunt Eunice and Uncle Roy trotting behind. Mr. Foreman, the fair owner, met us in front of the building. His son rushed to slam the door behind us.

  “Mr. Banning.” Mr. Foreman offered a hand. “So pleased to see you’re all right. I have no idea what could’ve happened.”

  “Someone shot Diablo.” Ethan pulled up the nearest straight-backed chair and helped me onto the hard plastic.

  Things had happened so fast. I stared at the men milling in front of me. Aunt Eunice fussed over Ethan and brushed the dust from his clothes until he moved her away. Uncle Roy stood with arms crossed and feet shoulder-width apart.

  “I wish I had my gun,” he grumbled. “I would’ve got the culprit and blown him to smithereens. Should’ve brought it, but Eunice wouldn’t let me.”

  “The last thing we need is another nutcase running around with a gun.” Joe smiled to take the bite off his words. He turned to the Foremans. “Could you excuse us, please? And mark this building off limits.”

  “But the pickle judging contest!” Aunt Eunice’s eyes widened.

  “You can have my office,” Mr. Foreman offered. He twirled a finger in his mustache. “It’s not far from here, and we can take the back door. Eddy, run ahead and unlock it.” He tossed a ring of keys to his son. “And Mrs. Meadows’ pickles will still be available for judging. Whether she’s present or not.”

  For the last several months, the tribulations of having us for a family tormented Joe. He always threatened to apply for a job with a different agency. Preferably in a different city than one I lived in. From the expression on his red face, I guessed he was one step closer to the county line. We were the proverbial thorn in his side. I think if Ethan and April weren’t part of the group, Joe would’ve washed his hands of the whole bunch.

  With the help of two arriving police officers, Joe ushered us out the back, across a strip of grass, around a coil of electrical cables, and into a trailer. “There’s ice water and soda in the fridge. Help yourself.” Mr. Foreman closed the door on his way out.

  The trailer was decorated clinical shabby. Dingy gray walls, aluminum blinds on the two thin windows, and a battered wooden desk. Two green plastic chairs faced the desk. I plopped into one of these.

  “Stay here.” Joe stood framed in the doorway. “I’ll be back to ask questions as soon as I’m able.”

  Four pairs of eyes looked down at me. “Why are all of you staring at me? They weren’t shooting at me.”

  “Actually. . .” Joe stepped closer. “I believe they were. They missed. I’ll know more later.” He turned and left.

  My knees trembled, and I thanked God for the chair beneath me. My mind raced over the week’s events. Someone wanted to shoot me? “I don’t understand. The last time I’d been involved in a murder case, I’d—” I’d what?

  Sure, I’d been shoved into the trunk of a car and had a gun pointed at my head by a man who fancied he loved me. And he’d shot at me while I ran through the woods, but I’d known he was going to do that. What kind of a coward shoots at a woman when she isn’t looking?

  My knuckles hurt from the grip I had on the bottom of the chair. Fear and anger swirled in my veins. With a growing sense of helplessness, I narrowed my eyes. “There’s more to this than Millie hanging herself in the shower, not that I believe she actually hung herself. You can’t hang yourself from a trailer shower. Even I know the pipes aren’t strong enough. This concerns me, and I want to know why.”

  Ethan glanced at Uncle Roy. His silent gesture told me Ethan knew exactly what went on. We would be having a serious conversation when we got home. “Let’s talk about this when Joe returns, okay?”

  The temperature inside the trailer grew warm with all of us crowded in waiting for Joe to return. When he did, over an hour later, my aunt’s and uncle’s heads were nodding. They jerked awake when Joe yanked open the door.

  “Well?” I jumped to my feet. “Did someone try to shoot me? What is going on, and don’t give me any of that confidentiality garbage.”

  Joe nodded. “We found bullet casings and footprints in the dust of the catwalk above the fun house. From the angle we figure the bullet came from, it should have got you in the back of the head.”

  “Why?” An icy hand gripped my heart.

  My cousin rubbed his hands across his buzz cut. “Someone has been embezzling funds from Foreman’s carnival. That person is running scared. Afraid of you finding out too much information. At least that’s what we think at this point.”

  “I didn’t do anything until I got stuck on top of that Ferris wheel.”

  “Summer, people run scared as soon as you walk in their general vicinity.” Joe frowned.

  “Ha ha.” Crossing my arms, I slouched in my chair. “I promised Ethan I wouldn’t go anywhere alone, and today, surrounded by people, I’m almost killed.” My heart sank like a stone. That bullet could have struck Ethan as easily as me or Diablo.

  “I won’t run, Joe. Hiding in a hole is out of the question. If someone thinks I know something, I’m going to find out what that is.”

  “Summer, I’ll lock you up if I have to and throw away the key. Don’t think I won’t.” Joe looked so much like Uncle Roy as he stood there with his hands on his hips that I snorted and fought ba
ck a giggle.

  Aunt Eunice stepped to my side and put an arm around my shoulder. “And I’m going to help her. A Meadows doesn’t run.”

  “You’re only a Meadows by marriage, Eunice,” Uncle Roy informed her.

  “We’ve been married long enough that it’s the same thing. Don’t try to stop me, Roy. You know how I am when I get my dander up. Purely lethal. Joe can’t lock us both up.”

  The warm feelings aroused by my aunt’s ferocious defense chilled at the look on Ethan’s face. His handsome features could have been chiseled from granite. He worked his cowboy hat in his hands, crushing the brim. A muscle ticked in his jaw. My giant of a man could be gentle as a lamb or ferocious as a tiger. I had a feeling I’d be meeting the angry cat later tonight.

  “Is that all, Joe?” Suddenly I wanted out of the stifling trailer and away from the glaring eyes of my family.

  “Y’all come over and eat,” Aunt Eunice invited. “I’ve a pot roast in the Crock-Pot. We can decide how to proceed over a rump of beef.”

  “I’ll meet you in our spot,” Ethan whispered as he took my arm and helped me from the chair.

  Normally, “our spot” was a place to meet for privacy. I found myself less than anxious to be alone with Ethan tonight.

  Mr. Foreman waited outside the trailer. His grin spread as wide as his mustache. “Mrs. Meadows, I’m pleased to announce you won a blue ribbon for your bread-and-butter pickles.” He handed her a first place ribbon then turned to Ethan. “And for the second year running, I’ve heard that Mr. Banning had the best time in the bronc riding. Well done, sir. I’m sorry you missed the announcement of your name.”

  Hard to believe they would’ve continued the rodeo after the shooting, but as they say, the show must go on. Pride flooded through me at Ethan’s win. Diablo had been the toughest of the horses, and still Ethan won. Another glance at his clenched jaw, and my smile faded.

  “I’m going to check on my horse. See you later.” He gave me a quick peck and stalked away.

  While Aunt Eunice put the final touches on dinner, I slipped out the back door and made my way to the tree house where Ethan and I had hung out as kids. Since almost falling from the rotting ladder a while back, I hadn’t climbed inside.