Candy-Coated Secrets (5 page)

She joined me. “The gorilla you’ve been talking about? He ain’t very big, is he?”

“Big enough to scare me.” Our visitor melted into the trees in back of our house. I reached for the phone.

Chapter Five

My mind’s focus on making a mental list of who might fit the “small” gorilla description woke me the next morning at six thirty. Eddy Foreman looked small enough. So did Big Sally’s love squeeze. On my next visit to Foreman’s carnival, I’d have to keep my eyes peeled for other carnies of the right size and build. Nothing said the gorilla had to be a male.

I smiled remembering Aunt Eunice’s demands during my previous case-solving. She’d told me to ask God who should go on my suspect list. I’d do that much sooner this time. No waiting on consequences to become life-threatening before calling on His help.

My gaze fell on the Dolt’s Guide to Private Investigating lying on my nightstand. First piece of advice I’d taken was to establish a suspect list.

My nose for crime-solving had gotten me into trouble once before when I’d placed Mabel Coffman and Ruby Colville, Aunt Eunice’s best friends, at the top of my list. Their unexpected downpour of riches had come to them honestly. The widower they’d both been chasing had died, leaving Mabel his Cadillac, and Ruby his deceased wife’s jewels. Their shrewlike attitudes had made them suspect enough in my book.

Chuckling, I tossed aside the blankets, covering Truly, who slept at my feet. The fair would start tomorrow night, and I still had a lot of chocolate figures to make.

My cell phone rang, playing the “Candy Man” from
Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory
. Clever, I thought, considering my profession. Caller ID showed Ethan. “Hello, sweetheart.”

“Hey, babe. I’ll be home early Saturday morning. Not the first night of the fair, but not too bad. I won’t miss the parade and can still ride in the rodeo Sunday afternoon.”

“I miss you.” I fell back onto the bed. Truly scooted closer and laid her head on my stomach. My fingers twirled the long hair on her ears.

“Ditto.” He remained silent for a minute before continuing. “Joe called and told me about the armadillo.”

Why couldn’t Joe keep his big mouth shut? “Just a practical joke, I’m sure.”

“Don’t go back to the fair alone.” A touch of steel hardened Ethan’s velvety words.

“I’ve got to take another batch of carnival figures.”

“Have Eunice go with you. I’m serious, Summer. I’ll be back soon and can stay by your side the whole time.”

“Don’t be silly. You’ll be bronc riding in the rodeo.” And he looked good doing it. Tight jeans, flannel shirt, scuffed boots, and a cowboy hat pulled low over blond curls. I couldn’t wait. I conceded. “I’ll get Aunt Eunice to go with me.” With both of us asking questions, we could cover more ground.

“And no snooping. Gotta go. I love you.”

After letting the phone fall to the quilt, I pushed Truly aside and rose, reaching for the black pants and cranberry sweater I’d chosen to wear. Not exactly carnival clothes, but I wanted to head there right after work. A woman needed to look good at all times, right? You never knew when you’d have to make a good impression.

The aroma of brewing coffee spurred me, and I skipped down the stairs. Aunt Eunice had just poured the first cup. She smiled. “Roy, Ethan, and April are coming home Saturday.”

Getting myself a mug, I grinned back. “I know. It’s been too long.” I sniffed in appreciation before savoring the first swallow. Ooh, hot. I fanned my mouth. “Ethan wants you to go with me tonight when I drop off the chocolate.”

“Okay. I’d like to do some more scoping of the competition.”

“I’d hoped you could help me ask questions.” Not start World War III at a county fair.

She waved a hand in the air. “There’ll be plenty of time for both.” Aunt Eunice sat in a chair at the table. “After the fiasco the last time you went and tried to solve a crime, I figure I’d better help you. And—” she peered over the cup’s rim. “—I’ve already prayed to God about it, considering how long it takes for you to get around to doing that. We don’t want you to die unmarried.”

My aunt sounded like that would be the worst thing in the world. And I definitely looked forward to marriage and had no intention of dying anytime soon. Not if I could help it. “Come on, Granny Gloom. There’s work to be done.”

The day passed quickly. Almost before we knew it, five o’clock arrived and we closed the store. Five boxes of candy were loaded into the trunk of my Sonata. Tomorrow we’d pack as many one-pound boxes of assortments as we could, and we’d be ready to make a killing at the fair. I flinched. Bad choice of words.

Aunt Eunice chattered during the drive. I tuned in enough to know she was talking about her odds of beating out Ruby and Mabel for a blue ribbon. She seemed to think it a sure thing. Although despondent at having to start over again with my roses, I wouldn’t miss the stress of competition. Destruction of the flowers for the second time, a few months ago by someone searching for diamonds, and now Ginger, might be God’s way of telling me entering them wasn’t going to happen.

My gaze focused outside on the signs of summer’s end: leaves with just a tip of red and gold. I could already feel the hint of a chill in the air during the mornings and evenings. I’d contemplated an autumn wedding for the sheer romance of falling leaves, but I had my heart set on a strapless, long-trained wedding gown. With no shawl to mar the effect.

“Hello?” Aunt Eunice waved a hand in front of my face. “Earth to Summer.”

Oops! Heat rose to my face. “Sorry. Daydreaming.”

“Oh, look. There’s your new best friend.” She pointed toward the paddock where Ginger lumbered up and down the fence.

“I think I’ll go say hello once we’ve got this candy unpacked.” I reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a box of chocolate-covered peanuts.

“Go ahead. I can handle this. You know I have a knack for arranging things artistically. I’ll play around for a bit.”

“Thanks. See ya later.” I pushed open the car door and slid out.

“Okay, but you’d better be inside before it gets fully dark. Ethan will have my hide if I don’t babysit you.”

I rolled them so far, my eyes probably disappeared to the back of my head. Aunt Eunice giggled as she headed toward the arts and crafts building. Ginger trumpeted as I strolled closer. It felt nice to be welcomed. Like she was a big hairless dog with a long nose.

With one foot propped on the lowest rail of the fence, I rested my folded arms across the top plank. Ginger ruffled her trunk through my hair then nosed the box. “Don’t go getting me all messed up, girl.” I swatted her away. “I bet you see everything that goes on around here, don’t you? Any idea who my primate friend might be? Or why someone would’ve killed Millie?”

She bumped me with her head, almost sending me to the ground. “Not speaking, huh? Well, that kind of information could land you in the same situation as me.” I held out a palm full of the candy I’d brought from Summer’s Confections.

“Talking to the animals?” Foreman stepped up, standing close enough for our shoulders to touch. “Should I call you Dr. Doolittle?” The oaf guffawed at his wit. He turned and leaned against the paddock. “The fairgrounds looks pretty at night, doesn’t it?” He scanned the area briefly before turning his attention back to me. His creepy roaming gaze up my body made my skin scrawl. “Not as pretty as you, of course.” He reached up as if to tuck away a stray strand of hair.

I slapped his hand away. Night? Aunt Eunice would kill me. The sun had set. The only illumination outside was the lights around the rides. Beautiful, but lots of shadows where my gorilla friend could hide. “Sorry, Mr. Foreman, but my aunt is waiting for me.”

“Please, call me Eddy. I believe I saw her in the livestock building arguing with a couple of old ladies.”

“Thanks.” I couldn’t get away fast enough. The cologne he’d bathed in threatened to overpower me, clinging to my skin and the fibers of my clothing.

The livestock barn stood to the right of the arts and crafts building, its recesses cast in muted shadow. Snuffling and low bellows greeted me as I ventured inside. Halfway down the straw floor lined with animal stalls, I still hadn’t seen anyone. “Aunt Eunice?”

I jumped at a loud snort and bang. My heart rate accelerated. “Hello?”

Every B-rated horror movie with a too-stupid-to-live-heroine flashed through my mind. There was absolutely no way I’d take another step forward. A chain saw-wielding gorilla could be hidden behind one of the stalls. I inched backward.

A squeal rang through the barn. I stopped and peered through the gloom.

The largest pig I’d ever seen rushed me. It grunted with the effort and moved much quicker than seemed possible for something with its bulk. My scream bounced off the rafters. I spun to dash out of the building.

My shrieks continued as the squealing behind me increased. I darted across the midway looking for a place to hide. One glance told me the door to the arts and crafts building was closed. Not enough time for me to fight with the latch and open it. I hadn’t yet had the opportunity to find the restrooms.

Grunts continued behind me as I made a beeline for the closest ride, the Tilt-A-Whirl. The heel of my shoe caught on a power cord, tripping me. I slid belly-first across the dirt-packed ground. Pebbles dug into the palms of my hands. Sobs caught in my throat. I imagined the huge beast leaping on my back and sinking its teeth into my neck.

Ever since I’d watched The Wizard of Oz as a child and seen Dorothy snatched from the pen of a bunch of snarling swine, I’d been deathly afraid of the hairless animals. Like a child. I’d fallen into a pigpen at the age of six, in my own imitation of the Dorothy thing. Hogs symbolized everything horrific. Nothing had happened. Those pigs had seemed nice. They’d been babies, after all. Kind of cute. However, giant swine should be outlawed. I felt an unreasonable stirring of resentment toward my aunt. She was supposed to be watching me!

Uncle Roy told me pigs didn’t attack unless provoked. Well, now I had proof otherwise. I’d done nothing to aggravate this animal. But an angry pig is a mean pig, and this one sounded infuriated.

I pushed to my feet and crawled into the first car of the ride and cowered on the floor.

Chapter Six

I covered my ears with my hands and mumbled “save me” prayers to God.

The crunching of gravel interrupted my frantic thoughts. I immediately stopped covering my ears. With all certainty, I knew the monster stalked me.

“Her coming around here puts a kink in the plan. You flubbed Millie’s death. No one believes it was suicide.”

Pigs don’t talk. My ears perked. I opened my mouth to call for help until I made out the words murder, money, and that nosy Summer Meadows.

“That doesn’t mean you can stiff me from my portion of the dough.”

Someone laughed. “Letting that crazy sow go was hilarious.”

“Yeah, but what’re we gonna do about that nosy Meadows broad?”

“I’ll think of something. Don’t worry. I’m the brains of this outfit.”

“And don’t let my sweetie get hurt.”

“As if anyone could hurt her. Look at that pig rooting around the rides. I ain’t catching her.”

“Neither am I. Let’s go before someone orders us to.”

Whose sweetie? My heart beat so loudly, my unseen conspirators must hear it over their conversation. So intent was I on overhearing them, I forgot to be frightened until their footsteps faded away. I rose from my hiding place and came face-to-face with The Beast.

There wasn’t enough steel between me and the pig. If the ride shifted, she’d see the opening and in she’d be. Right within biting distance of me.

She snorted. I screamed and fled, heading toward the highest ride in the fair. The Ferris wheel. A carny leaned against the railing. I scrambled into the first car.

“Are you here for the test ride? I just finished the repairs.”

“Yes. Yes. Just go.” I slammed the lap bar across me and gripped the sides of the car. The pig had disappeared. Most likely hiding, waiting to devour me when I least expected it. But I hoped by the time the ride stopped, the swine would’ve given up on me.

“I’ve got to go to the restroom. You can ride until I get back. About ten minutes.”

With a lurch, the Ferris wheel rose. It stopped at the top. Peeking over, I gasped. The car perched like a nonflying creature on the face of a giant cliff. A slight exaggeration maybe, but every bit as frightening. My gorilla friend waved and held up the power cord. I choked back a sob as the lights went out. He turned and darted toward the carny trailers.

Below, I could make out the form of my aunt, hands on her hips, turning in a circle. Her mouth opened and from far away, I heard my name called.

“Aunt Eunice. Up here!”

What little bit of breeze the night carried blew my voice away. I choked back another sob. Stuck. On top of the scariest ride in the world. Why did our fair have to boast of having such a tall Ferris wheel?