She forced a soft smile to her lips, just enough to show her dimples. “Of course.”

  “Well, Mia, we were all like family. Dennis was a longtime friend and colleague. Trusted each other like brothers, the two of us did. Kyle was newer to our circus family, but I took him under my wing when he needed a new home. Needed a place to welcome him and accept him for who he was. I saw that instinctively. I’ll tell you, he was becoming like a son to me, like so many of the younger performers are.”

  “Like a son?”

  “Like a son.”

  The emphasis with which he’d added that part was interesting. Mia tucked the thought away for a later time. “And Penelope Dowe?”

  He swallowed, his facade slipping as his eyes narrowed. He really was a horrible liar. O’Rourke was such an overly dramatic performer that his techniques were probably hypnotizing in the big ring. But the same process didn’t translate in a small room like this one. Everyone on the other side of the glass had to be thinking the same thing.

  He tapped one finger on the table, as if searching for an answer. “Penelope was…like a daughter to me.”

  “Like a daughter?” Mia folded her hands together, adopting a thoughtful frown to cover her sudden bout of disgust. If he loved Penelope like a daughter, then he shouldn’t have, as Mia suspected, impregnated her. She kept her expression as neutral as she could, surprising herself at how well she managed. “Their deaths must have been a shock.”

  “A real shock.” He nodded in agreement, taking his time to answer. But the words were the first ones that rang true to her ear. He might actually be telling the truth about his shock.

  “Tell me what happened.”

  “I was in the ring when both Penelope and Dennis were killed. As the ringmaster of the Ruby Red, I take a lot of pride in always being front and center for every act. If something goes wrong, which it rarely does, I want to be there to help the performers get back on track and smooth things out for the audience. The show must go on, and all that.”

  “But it didn’t go on after Penelope and Dennis were killed, I assume?”

  “Oh no!” The man stared at her open-mouthed, visibly stunned at the idea. “On those nights, no, of course not. There was no way to go on after…after…”

  “I understand. And what about when Kyle Perkins died? Where were you then?”

  “We’d just talked. It’s the damnedest thing. I passed Kyle by after breakfast.” The man leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. As he continued to talk, he appeared less posed and more human. “He was lifting weights behind the kitchen trailer, like he usually did. I told him to look into some new props for his act. We’d talked about adding in some cannonballs to juggle, which would’ve been impressive for the audience. Easy for him, I guarantee. I reminded him to look into what that would take. Where we’d buy them, the costs, so on and so forth.”

  “And then?”

  O’Rourke shrugged. “I kept walking. I don’t rightly remember where I was headed. Maybe to check on some props, maybe to Calliope’s, or somewhere else. I don’t know. But I heard the commotion before I got to wherever it was and went running back to find Kyle…” The man trailed off there, the color draining from his face.

  It wasn’t possible to fake going this pale. O’Rourke’s reaction to the murders felt real.

  “It was a bad death.” O’Rourke gripped his hands together on the table, mirroring Mia’s pose. He coughed again, clearing his throat, and this time, the gesture seemed necessary. “Mia, I’m telling you, I couldn’t have killed any of them. I’m rarely alone, so I don’t know how I could have pulled it off, even if I’d wanted to. But I tell you, I…I wouldn’t want to!”

  O’Rourke wasn’t crying, but he was close to it.

  Mia remained still, observing him. All the deaths had been premeditated. The hours leading up to the victims’ deaths were what mattered most in this case. But O’Rourke said he was rarely alone. From what other performers at the circus had told them, and based on her own observations, it did seem this man kept his hands in something or another.

  Or on someone or another, at least.

  So maybe not a murderer. But most definitely an abuser.

  “Mr. O’Rourke, I can see your pain.” She paused, giving him time to sit straight and try to tame his hair again in a gesture she imagined to be self-calming. “But the victims we’ve just spoken of aren’t the only reason you’re in this room right now.”

  She flattened her expression to remove any trace of the young, impressionable woman he’d just been speaking to. Time to knock him off his game.

  He recoiled. “Oh?”

  “We’re here because of what Agent Last and I found in your trash. A child’s bloodied leotard. Bloody underwear in a child’s size.”

  O’Rourke’s eyes went wide but almost immediately narrowed. “I…” He clamped his mouth shut, and Mia would’ve bet money that he was going to lawyer up.

  When he didn’t, she moved on.

  “This morning, Mr. O’Rourke, you disposed of a white garbage bag in sight of FBI agents. Myself and Agent Last. No question about chain of possession or whether we had a right to search it, so you’re out of luck there. The bloodied items have been taken to forensics and will be tested.” She steeled herself to continue, her voice remaining even as she went on. “We’ll know very soon if it’s Bunny Weaver’s blood, or that of some other young girl.”

  “You think I’d hurt Bunny?” O’Rourke drew himself up straighter, breathing hard.

  Mia kept going. She wouldn’t give him time to think. “A judge will soon be signing off on a search warrant for your camper and your office. Any minute now. Are they going to find more of Bunny Weaver’s personal belongings? It’s better that you tell us now voluntarily instead of us discovering them.”

  Of course, her team didn’t know for sure if those items belonged to the circus’s young trick rider, but Mia felt the fact in her gut. They were Bunny’s, and forensics would prove it.

  O’Rourke was as still as a mannequin across from her, but his face had gone red. Sweat dripped from his brow. He leaned forward as far as the table would allow, his eyes staying on hers as he all but snarled. “I would never hurt Bunny Weaver. I’d die first! I’ve got nothing but love for that girl.”

  Mia’s stomach roiled. “What kind of love, Mr. O’Rourke? You see, that’s our question. If you’ve done something, best to—”

  “No!” His voice boomed around the room. It wasn’t a yell or a scream, but a projection.

  She had no problem understanding how he communicated to hundreds of people in the circus tents. Mia refused to flinch before the force of his tone, though.

  “I’ve treated her like gold, just like I’ve treated the rest of the troupe and all the Ruby Red’s employees. Bunny Weaver grew up in the circus, for god’s sake!”

  “How about you tell me about the other young women in your past?”

  He barked out a sudden laugh, shaking his head as his bulbous nose wrinkled in annoyance. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

  “I’m not, Mr. O’Rourke. You were arrested in Maine for having sexual relations with a seventeen-year-old girl—”

  “Who claimed to be nineteen. I believed her. That’s not my fault.”

  “What about when you were twenty-one and the girl was sixteen? I understand you were aware of her age at the time.”

  He scoffed and wiped some sweat from his forehead. “I was young and stupid when that happened. And I served my time. Paid my debt to society.”

  Mia leaned back in her chair, assessing him. Like the grief he’d shown earlier, this indignation seemed real. “True.”

  O’Rourke’s hands clenched on the table, betraying the extent of his turbulent feelings even as his voice gained more control. “I’m not even on the sex offender list, so there’s no way, no how you’ll paint me out to be a monster based on one stupid decision and some other person’s admitted lie.”

  Mia waited, hoping he might hang himself by continuing. He only pulled himself up straighter in his chair and peered back at her, regaining a certain amount of dignity despite his disheveled appearance.

  She said nothing, letting silence interrogate him instead.

  He threw up his hands. “You can’t tell me you’d equate those instances to a man my age going after a girl Bunny’s age. It’s not the same thing. Someone would have to be a monster to hurt that girl, and I’m no monster.”

  “Then tell me how the leotard and panties got into your trash. Help me understand.”

  He shook his head so hard that his hair flew out in all directions. “I…” He closed his mouth, and his teeth clicked together.

  “Mr. O’Rourke, help me help you.” She softened her voice and her expression. “Why were those items in your trash?”

  O’Rourke closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before he sat forward and set his hands flat on the table. “You’re the investigator. You figure it out. I would never hurt Bunny Weaver. End of discussion.”

  23

  By the time O’Rourke’s words shifted from denials to demands for a lawyer, Leo was itching to punch a wall. Better yet, O’Rourke himself. Leo wanted to rip out every wispy strand of white hair on the man’s head.

  Even Vance’s normally unflappable countenance had fallen into an annoyed grimace. He leaned on the wall near the glass, watching Mia’s every move. But observing Mia’s interrogation had become an exercise in futility.

  Denae knocked her boot against the wall. “He won’t even acknowledge that Bunny’s things were in his camper.”

  “But he doesn’t deny they were.” Leo dug his hands into his pockets and paced back across the small space. “He can’t come up with a defense because he doesn’t have one, which means he has nothing useful to offer except a confession.”

  Vance bit out a laugh. “Which he won’t give us.”

  Of course, the man had had several run-ins with the law, so he was experienced in these types of interrogations.

  Sitting back at the one desk in the room, Jacinda finished sending a text before straightening in her seat. “Vance and Denae, I want the two of you to go back to the fairgrounds.”

  “Uh…” Vance turned back to the group, his back to the one-way glass. “Jacinda, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to be here to talk to Mia when she gets done with this.”

  Leo stopped pacing. “I’ll go. No more steps out of line, Jacinda, I promise.”

  Their supervisory agent glanced between Leo and Vance, finally settling her gaze on Leo. “Can’t stand the sight of O’Rourke, can you?”

  He snorted. “You have no idea.”

  She nodded, more to herself than to the team. If only to occupy him so he didn’t explode with tension, Leo figured, she’d allow him to get back to the fairgrounds.

  “Don’t worry, Jacinda.” Denae stood up, brushing imaginary dirt off her hands. “I’ll keep this disheveled puppy here on a leash.”

  Jacinda smirked. “He could use a haircut.”

  Leo hid his smile with an exaggerated frown. He was in.

  Jacinda gave a hurry-up wave toward the door. “All right, the two of you get to the fairgrounds. I need you to speak with Bunny and Calliope. Separately. Bunny’s parents will need to be present, obviously, but otherwise, I want complete privacy for these talks. No bystanders, no overhearing. Understand?”

  Leo nodded, one hand already on the door. “Understood.”

  “Report in when you’re done, unless you hear from me first.” Jacinda stood and moved over to Denae’s abandoned seat, closer to the glass. “Calliope has an intimate relationship with this man that may prove enlightening. As for Bunny…” She shook her head, her lips in a tight frown. “There’s a lot to speak to Bunny about. Delicately. Denae, I want you to take the lead in the questioning.”

  They began by speaking with Bunny.

  At first, the girl was open with them. The eleven-year-old wandered around the corral, bundled up against the cold, clear air. Underneath all those layers, she seemed even smaller to Leo than before. Her parents followed at a distance, but within earshot. They’d agreed the agents could speak with their daughter alone, providing they could at least hear what was being said.

  Then Denae asked about the yellow leotard.

  After that, the conversation did not go smoothly.

  Bunny sat down on the asphalt and hugged her arms around her knees. She rocked back against the post of the corral. Her parents rushed over, flanking her. She shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it.” Tears immediately choked her. “Just go away, okay?”

  Leo rubbed the back of his neck, his nerves all but twitching.

  The little girl before them rocked with discomfort, her parents helpless beside her.

  Even the damn horse was a mess of anxiety, stomping her feet and whinnying from behind the fence, as if to demand they leave her master alone.

  Bunny gripped herself tighter, burying her young face deeper into the ball she’d become. Her voice came out muffled. “Please, just leave me alone!”

  The horse struck the corral post behind her with a hoof, showing her teeth and whinnying again.

  The girl sobbed louder, the horse’s name buried somewhere in her unintelligible words.

  Denae nudged Leo with her elbow. “How about you talk to the parents, Ambrose? I’ll stick with Bunny and call you back if she’s ready to talk.”

  Might as well. “Don’t get bitten by the horse.”

  “Mr. and Mrs. Weaver? Will you come with me? Denae won’t ask any more questions of Bunny without you. But she’ll stay with her in case she needs anything, okay?” He waved the two adults farther along the edge of the corral as Denae sat down near Bunny, some feet away from the fence. Although Betty seemed reluctant to move from her daughter’s side, she followed Leo and her husband.

  Leo stopped at the corner of the corral, far enough away from the others that they wouldn’t be heard.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Weaver, you heard my partner ask your daughter about a ruined yellow leotard? And saw the reaction?”

  “We did.” Betty clenched her arms tighter over her chest. “And if you don’t tell us why you’re asking and why my girl reacted like that, I might just let that horse have at you.”

  Billy Weaver placed one hand on his wife’s shoulder, but his eyes remained focused on Leo. “What my Betty means is, we need to know what’s going on with our daughter. Now.”

  Leo lowered his voice again. “Mr. and Mrs. Weaver, this is going to be difficult to hear, but I need you to listen to what I have to say.”

  The man and woman nodded. Leo took a breath before continuing.

  Neither parent interrupted him as he explained what his team had found in Reggie O’Rourke’s trash. Betty looked as if the news rendered her speechless. Billy squeezed his arm around her tighter, his cheeks growing redder by the moment.

  Billy’s arm was tense where it encircled Betty’s shoulder. His other hand was fisted at his side. “I’ll kill the man myself if what you’re saying is true.”

  Leo held his tongue, the man’s rage echoing in his own gut. I don’t think O’Rourke would survive the night if we brought him back right now. And maybe that’s fair.

  Betty raked a hand through her hair, shaking her head. “No. Not Reggie. He wouldn’t hurt her. You think what you damn well want to, but that man would never hurt our daughter.” She turned to Billy. “You know that.” Her voice broke into a sob that echoed her daughter’s. “Reggie wouldn’t do it, Agent Ambrose.”

  Leo tightened his own resolve. “You must understand why we need to speak to Bun—”

  “Not today. Please.” Betty’s brown eyes welled with tears, but she stepped away from Billy and faced the two men head-on.

  Resolve had straightened her, and for the first time, Leo saw her commanding the attention of a full circus audience. Yeah, he could imagine this woman breathing fire, all right.

  “Ma’am, I—”

  “Billy, you back me up.”

  “Ma’am?”

  Betty held up a hand. “You’ll come back in the morning. That’s what you’ll do.” Her gaze flitted past Leo to her daughter before she wiped her eyes and brought her focus back to their small group. “I understand what you’re saying, but my little girl can’t handle any questions right now. And we, as parents, deserve a chance to speak with her alone about what may or may not have happened with Reggie.”

  Billy kicked up a cloud of dust with his cowboy boot. “She’s right. And now that you’ve got Reggie, there’s no real hurry, right?”

  “We’re keeping O’Rourke overnight. For now, that’s all we can do.”

  Billy’s eyes went hard while Betty only nodded, proving she really didn’t think the man was capable of hurting Bunny.

  “You can have tonight. But we’ll have to come back tomorrow and speak to Bunny. Fair enough?”

  With both parents in agreement, Leo sighed and led their small group back toward Denae, Bunny, and the girl’s very angry horse.

  Denae stood to greet them and remained silent when Leo told her what they’d agreed to. Bunny still sobbed into her knees, and the logic of the decision was clear.

  “Bunny, we’ll be back tomorrow.”

  Leo doubted the girl heard him, but he was almost grateful that she didn’t look up. He had no desire to see her tearstained face staring up at him from the ground. Offering the parents a quick goodbye, he strode away from the corral.

  The stressed mare whinnied her own goodbye of sorts, but Leo had an easier time turning his back on the horse.

  Denae picked up her pace as they moved toward Calliope’s camper, but they walked in silence. They both knew their destination, and neither of them felt the need to voice their frustration over Bunny’s pain or the scene they’d just left behind.

  24

  When Leo knocked on the metal door of the makeup artist’s camper, he shot a quick smile to his partner. “Maybe Calliope’ll be easier.”

  “Hope so.” Denae pulled out her ID. “As long as she doesn’t try to shoot our asses with firecrackers. Seems to be the thing around here.”