“Why’s that?” Emma asked.

  “Different liquids bring on different effects with the fire, but you’d have to ask Reggie if Dennis was the one who bought those things. I don’t know why Dennis would be ordering, though. Reggie’s in charge of supply budgets.”

  Betty rubbed her eyes. “Dennis was a good man, like Billy said. I even trusted him to set up an act for Bunny. She had an idea for some fire around the ring for Gray to leap through.”

  Billy nodded. “The mare didn’t take to it, or it woulda been a regular part of the show by now.”

  “And Kyle?” Emma prompted. “Were you close to him in any way?”

  “Kyle was…Kyle.” Betty pressed her lips together, and Emma waited out the silence. “He’d only been with the circus six months, not like Penelope and Dennis. I think he was running from something.”

  “Running?” Denae repeated, but Betty was already shaking her head.

  “Not running, like, from the law. Nothing so serious as that. I mean, maybe he was running from himself, from a woman, something more domestic in nature. But that’s just the feeling I got. The man kept to himself, but he was a professional. Looked down on folks like Dennis, who got drunk or cared more about fun than some others.”

  “So he was hard to get along with?” Emma glanced back and forth between husband and wife, waiting. It was clear neither of them wanted to speak ill of the dead, but this was the first they’d heard something that might speak to motive.

  “He was a little bit full of himself. Maybe something of a blowhard who could rub you wrong ’til you got to know him.”

  Billy nodded again and gave Betty another glance. He was clearly choosing his words with care, more to avoid offending his wife than the dead, it seemed. “Thought his way was the only way of doing things. Serious and all in, if you know what I mean. Someone you could describe as narcissistic if you were so inclined, but I think he just had a hard shell and a bit of a temper. He mentioned an ex-wife once when I caught him off guard, but that’s about all I know of his past.”

  Betty sat straighter in her chair. “He was looking for himself. That’s all. Another year or so with the circus, he would’ve warmed up to everyone.”

  Betty’s tone had been definitive, and Emma wasn’t inclined to argue with her. Nevertheless…

  “Would you say he was dissatisfied with the status quo? If he was running away from something or—”

  “He was dissatisfied with his life, if you ask me.” Betty waved away Emma’s question. “But he was a good man.”

  She turned to her husband as if for confirmation, gripping his hand again before looking back to the agents. “So was Dennis. And Penelope was a good woman. I can’t imagine who’d have a vendetta against them or anyone else in the Ruby Red. We’ve got good people here, Agent Last. It’s that simple.”

  “Were any of them in relationships that you know of?” Denae nodded to their clasped hands. “Either with people here in the circus or outside of it? Billy, you mentioned Kyle had an ex-wife.”

  “Yeah, but I couldn’t tell you her name.” The man sat back, seeming to consider the question. “He didn’t seem all that concerned about her, and I never got any indication there were kids, though I couldn’t tell you for sure.”

  Betty tucked a loose strand of brown hair back into her ponytail. “Man like him, I don’t believe he would’ve left a marriage if there were kids involved. I mean, he was good with Bunny, if not so fond of the horse. Like a man who might like kids, not one who regretted abandoning his own.”

  “As for Penelope and Dennis…” Billy frowned, seeming to search for the right words. “They’ve had their flings, I guess. They were adults, right? So yeah, of course they did. But I couldn’t tell you who with or when. That’s not the sort of drama I concern myself with.”

  Betty’s hand flicked up from her lap, and she quickly patted her husband’s knee. “We’re not exactly the sort to be out fraternizing after hours. But I think I would’ve known if any of them had anything serious going on with one of our own. And I think we’d know if Penelope had been seeing anyone at all. But look, those three people were good eggs. I don’t see how anybody here could’ve intended them harm.”

  Emma didn’t see much point in disagreeing. Based on this conversation, she hadn’t caught any red flags. “Okay, and how about the protesters? They don’t seem to be fans.”

  Betty Weaver barked out a laugh. “God save us from animal rights protesters. Only animal we have at the circus is Bunny’s horse, and Gray’s treated like royalty. Those protesters don’t know who the people of this circus are.”

  Denae frowned. “The protests must’ve caused quite a bit of tension around here, though. Anyone tried talking to them about it? Or lost their temper with them?”

  Billy shrugged. “No real lost tempers that I saw. Reggie, the owner of the Ruby Red, tried to talk some sense into them early on. This circus is his life. His passion. Reggie thought he could make ’em understand. He has in other cities, to be sure, but the last time he went over to speak to ’em, one of those idiots threw a bucket of fake blood on him.”

  Betty scowled. “Damn near had him in tears.”

  “The animosity is real as real can be, I tell you.” Billy leaned in toward them, lowering his voice. “And if anyone did something, I’d say they’re a good place to start. Most of the performers are ready to pack it up and leave for the next town. Mostly because of them, if you ask me. Reggie weren’t so hardheaded, we might’ve left even before Dennis died.”

  Emma glanced back at the notes on her iPad. “I was told you don’t have immediate plans to leave.”

  “Nah.” Betty seemed to shrink back into her seat. “Reggie’s declared we aren’t going anywhere until someone answers for the deaths. And I understand, but I wish he’d change his mind and find some way to get the cops to let us move on.”

  Emma thanked the Weavers for their time. After giving them her card and exchanging some last pleasantries, she and Denae headed away from the concrete pad. “Betty Weaver seems like a house mom to the whole troupe. Or a ‘tent mom’ in her case.” Emma paused to lean against a trailer and typed some notes while they were fresh in her mind.

  Denae wrote up some of her own notes beside her. “Billy Weaver just seems like a loving husband. No red flags between them. And Bunny seems so well adjusted that I kind of wish I’d grown up with a circus.”

  Strange as that comment was, Emma considered it briefly. Having so many caring, familiar faces around during the formative years sounded nice.

  Emma moved her tablet into her shoulder bag and waited for Denae to do the same. Her mind was on the next steps. If the protesters were the real threat, they needed to speak to the only person who had spoken to them. “There might be something to the activists.”

  She shivered as if the icy temperatures had dropped twenty more degrees in a split second. The world tightened and shrank around her. Which meant one thing, and it left Emma oddly satisfied. After looking around the circus grounds all morning, she was finally going to see a ghost.

  While Denae finished writing her notes, Emma scanned the area.

  There.

  Beyond Denae, pointing to a trailer marked by a large sign reading Ringmaster was a woman in a bloodied gold leotard with only half of her beautiful face intact. Emma had seen no photos of Penelope’s death, but her wound was consistent with landing on her head from a great height. Her skull had caved in, distorting her features.

  She stared at Emma with her one remaining good eye.

  The ghost pointed to the very trailer of the last person who’d spoken to the protesters, Ringmaster Reggie O’Rourke.

  “What about it?” Emma mouthed to the specter.

  Silence.

  “Talk to me,” Emma mouthed.

  Silence.

  Frustrated by Penelope’s lack of communication, Emma stepped forward, almost hypnotized. “We need to speak to Reggie O’Rourke.”

  Denae slipped her iPad into her bag and followed Emma’s gaze. Emma knew Denae didn’t see the ghost, but she would see the ringmaster’s trailer clear as day.

  “O’Rourke’s not on our list. Leo and Mia must have him. Or the SSA and Vance.”

  Emma turned back around and met her gaze. “He’s the leader and owner of this entire production, and a lot of horrible things seem to have happened on his watch. Especially considering his supposed dedication to this circus family of his. He’s the only person to have spoken to the protesters, and I want to talk to him.”

  After another moment of examination, Denae gestured for Emma to lead the way. “You’re explaining it to Jacinda, then.”

  Emma swallowed down her nerves at the thought of getting on Jacinda’s bad side while they were on the first day of a case, but she didn’t feel like she had much of a choice. Not now.

  Penelope waved her forward.

  8

  Mia came to a stop some ten feet from where the sword-swallower stood, unable to tear her eyes away.

  His head was tilted back to an unnatural degree, appearing to hyperextend his neck. The man let the tip of his sword enter his mouth…and kept it going. And going.

  White-haired and wrinkled enough to be in his sixties—if not older—the man was dressed in an old college sweatshirt and jeans, which only made the scene more surreal.

  Nobody else stood observing him, and Mia wondered whether he’d swallowed the sword at just that moment for their benefit or the man was just practicing his act.

  Beside her, Leo had also come to a halt, if only to avoid getting separated from her before they’d even questioned a single suspect.

  The sword was still moving down this man’s throat, though. What would possess someone to put two feet of steel down their gullet on a regular basis?

  “His name’s Jebediah Colmbes.” Leo’s voice was quiet. He was either in awe of the act or didn’t want to startle the man at this delicate moment. “I think he’s on Jacinda and Vance’s list.”

  Jebediah paused midswallow and looked sideways at Mia, catching her eye, the weapon stretching his lips wide. There was a glint of amusement in his gaze, and she wondered what expression she wore.

  Watching her watching him, the man kept pushing the sword down his throat, inch by inch.

  Leo leaned close to Mia’s ear. “He might have been born around the time swords were invented.”

  Mia almost giggled but held the emotion in, keeping her serious agent face on. The scene was such an absurd, fascinating, and welcome distraction that she let herself get lost in the act unfolding before her. She wasn’t sure when she’d last felt the urge to get lost in something unrelated to work.

  The Richmond BAU had been her whole life. Richmond was her whole life, really. Her brother, Ned, was buried there. It was the place her parents called home. She’d grown up there.

  D.C. was supposed to be a fresh start. One she desperately needed. If only she’d known the woman she hated most in this world had been thinking the exact same thing.

  What were the odds?

  Just as Mia’s transfer request came through, she learned that Agent Sloan Grant had been granted the same relocation. They’d transferred from Richmond to Washington at close to the exact same time.

  Sloan Grant. Her late brother’s would-be fiancée…had she said yes. Ned, upset and out of control, crashed his car and died on the way home from his proposal gone wrong. Sloan bore responsibility for that. Mia did not want to see her. Ever again.

  The only upside was that Sloan belonged to the Counterterrorism Division. Her office was on a different floor from the Violent Crimes Unit.

  So far, Mia had managed to avoid her brother’s ex-girlfriend entirely.

  Not the freshest of fresh starts, though.

  Then there was Special Agent Vance Jessup. He seemed intent on picking up where they’d left off. She remembered the intense, immediate sparks they’d experienced last July when Mia’s team assisted his team on a case. They’d traded comments, half-jokingly, that they should visit each other in their respective cities while not involved in a case.

  Plenty had happened since then, and Mia wasn’t even sure she was the same woman she’d been when the two of them first met.

  Special Agent Chris Parker had happened. After she’d fallen for him, Chris had betrayed their team. Knowing he’d been found out, he’d held her hostage but then shot himself in front of her. Mia’s insides turned to lead whenever she thought of Chris or romance for even a moment.

  Chris’s last words often kept her up at night. “You’re gonna do great things, Agent Logan. I’m sure of it.”

  She was determined to do great things in her work, in her life.

  Romance was harder after all of that, though.

  Now when she wore her usual smile, it was more a mask than any real sign of her emotions.

  No, there was no doubt in her mind that she wasn’t ready for any romantic ventures. Not with Vance. Not with anyone.

  All she wanted was for the people she loved to stop dying.

  Mia refocused on the sword-swallower pulling the blade from his throat. No blood appeared on the metal, thank goodness.

  She nudged Leo with her elbow. “Shall we?”

  Leo chuckled. “Something else, isn’t it? But, yeah, time to get to work.”

  He took the lead, walking in the direction they’d been heading prior to getting distracted by Jebediah Colmbes.

  The time had come for Mia to pull her shit together and move forward, and that was that. Nothing mattered right now except determining who was responsible for three murders.

  When they came up on Jamie Hearn’s red-and-brown-striped trailer, they found two young men in their late teens or early twenties sitting outside on its steps. Both held coffee mugs and stood to greet the agents. Leo made the introductions.

  The taller one seemed to be the steadier of the two. “Ty Belloise. I’m the knife thrower around here. This is Jamie Hearn, resident contortionist.”

  Ty Belloise was farther down on their list. Lucky break. Two birds with one stone.

  Jamie nodded and sipped from his cup but didn’t say anything.

  Mia watched him for a moment. She traded glances with Leo and noticed the same concern in her partner’s eyes. Jamie seemed awfully young.

  “Are you eighteen, Jamie?” If he was a minor, they’d have to seek out his guardian in order to question him, assuming one was available.

  He offered a small smile, showing uneven teeth that made him appear even younger. “I’m nineteen as of a few months ago. Just look young.”

  Jamie Hearn’s voice was deeper than Mia had expected, suggesting he was likely telling the truth. Or maybe he was hoarse from crying. His eyes were red, his grip a little too tense on his coffee cup, as if he wanted the liquid to steady his nerves rather than wake him up.

  Ty punched the shorter man’s arm like a big brother. “You should’ve seen him when he came to the Ruby Red a few years ago. Coulda been mistaken for a choirboy.”

  Jamie blushed red but didn’t appear offended.

  “I hear you were good friends with Kyle?”

  The young man shrugged but didn’t make a move to separate himself from their small circle, seeming content to remain at Ty’s side. “Better friends with Penelope. There’s just been a lot happening lately.”

  Ty held up a hand. “Look, we appreciate the FBI’s help in getting justice for Penelope and the guys, but I don’t know what you think you’ll accomplish by asking us a bunch of questions. The problem isn’t inside the Ruby Red. You gotta know that.”

  “Who or what do you think the problem is?” Leo asked.

  Ty jerked his head in the direction of the protesters, who could still be easily heard from where they stood. “It’s out there. With all that chanting and judging with signs that don’t even make sense. You can’t think there’s a question about who did this.”

  Mia wished it were that easy. “We have to come at the case from all angles, and right now, we’re gathering information and figuring out relationships, so we get the whole picture. Is there anything you can tell us about the victims that might help? Any reason they might’ve drawn the protesters’ attention or made themselves a target?”

  Jamie leaned into Ty, shaking his head. “I joined the circus three years ago to get away from my parents. My dad…” He peered down at the ground, avoiding Mia’s gaze, and her heart started breaking for him even before he finished. “He wasn’t a nice man. The people in this circus are the first real family I’ve ever had. And now Penelope and Dennis and Kyle…”

  His voice broke, and Ty pulled him sideways into a full hug. The taller man wore a deep frown now, and his green eyes had grown clouded with…not quite anger but maybe distaste. Mia couldn’t blame him. She made a note of his expression and the protective nature they were seeing in him.

  Jamie wiped at his face. “Reggie works hard to make sure we all work together well. He vets the performers and trains them himself. He makes sure we all get along.”

  “He’s a dad to just about everyone here.” Ty released Jamie. “Which makes us all family.”

  She was curious how these two might behave on their own without the other to lean on. If the whole of the circus was this codependent, then these interviews might be pointless. The subjects would just lean on each other, swapping answers and muddying individual perspectives.

  These two could’ve been mistaken for brothers, the way they acted. Or lovers? She couldn’t tell.

  Ty took a deep breath, one hand patting Jamie’s back. “You have to find out who’s responsible and stop them. If this keeps up, we might not ever be able to reopen.”

  “That’s what we plan on doing, I promise you.” Leo’s voice was soft and serious, and the solemnity made Mia like him even more. “These questions are just part of the process. Just the beginning.”

  Ty’s squared his jaw as he nodded. “It isn’t fair. It just isn’t. We don’t have much in life, but that’s never mattered because we have each other. We don’t deserve to have the people we care about ripped away from us. Especially not like this.”