The most vocal and aggressive of the protesters had taken off before the agents reached their staging area.

  But some of the braver individuals stuck around to chant their ridiculous messages into the greedy, gossip-happy news cameras. After ignoring the previous warning from law enforcement, those same individuals had been arrested for possessing illegal fireworks and taken to the closest precinct.

  Across the parking lot, Mia and Leo approached one another from perhaps thirty yards away as they wrapped their ribbon around a line of decorative dogwood trees. Once they were done, the whole perimeter of the fairgrounds had been roped off.

  Police had marked off designated parking areas in the gravel lot. Half the lot had been reserved for their team and local police, with a small patch near the highway allotted for news crews. Signs directing protesters to an approved demonstration area were plastered on trees, fencing, and any flat surface facing the parking area and street.

  By the next morning’s bail hearing, a judge would have finished signing restraining orders on everyone involved in the latest chaos, and any remaining protesters would be restricted to a small, cordoned-off section of the parking lot, far enough from the main walkways that they would need a catapult to hit the team with ketchup again.

  Though the protestors had been arrested and shunted off to the side, Emma truly wasn’t sure whether that would stop them at this point. Telling them that no animals were killed or harmed hadn’t done the trick either. Logic was not fueling this mob.

  Much as the move made sense, Emma also doubted taking the trouble to encircle the circus with crime-scene tape would do much good, but it couldn’t hurt. If nothing else, cordoning off the grounds would make any protesters think twice about intruding again.

  Emma pulled her coat tighter against the wind and headed back to her Prius to retrieve her bag, Denae close on her heels.

  They’d been told to meet for a briefing once the fairgrounds were secured, and she was anxious to get back to the small space heaters. The sun had officially set on their team’s first day in the field together, and the air grew colder by the minute.

  After collecting her bag, she scanned the grounds as she approached their designated tent, offered by the still-elusive ringmaster Reggie O’Rourke. A handful of local police officers had been assigned security duty, and two of them were the only movement on the thoroughfare.

  Standing near the heaters, Emma poured herself a tall cup of coffee. The circus cook had brought out a few sets of flatware and mugs before she’d left to join the rest of the crew staying at a nearby budget hotel. Emma curled her numb fingers around the warm ceramic mug. The slight stinging was welcome as blood flowed back into her extremities.

  She went to take a sip, but the coffee had stopped steaming. Emma frowned. Once again, she shivered, but this time not from the cold. It was all she could do not to groan in frustration.

  Ghosts.

  A huge man stood off to the side of the group, hidden by nighttime shadows. Emma knew at a glance it was Kyle Perkins. The guy looked like he could lift fifteen law enforcement officers and not break a sweat. His blank white eyes stared out over the group.

  Emma tossed out the lukewarm coffee and poured a new one. Then she moved deeper into the tent, putting some space between her and the heat-sucking manifestation. He’d shown no signs of offering any assistance beyond simply showing up for duty. Maybe he’d give her more after the briefing.

  Jacinda was the last to arrive, Detective Griff by her side. The two appeared exhausted, with thin lips and respective jacket and coat pulled tight against the evening wind.

  Emma went back to the refreshment table, poured two more mugs of hot coffee, and passed them to Jacinda and Detective Griff as they stepped into the tent.

  Jacinda raised her mug in a small salute. “See? Initiative. I like it.”

  Emma lifted her own drink. The day had started rough, and the hours had been long, but she and Jacinda seemed to have come to an understanding.

  Detective Griff waved for everyone’s attention.

  “Thanks for your hard work, everyone. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.” Griff sipped from his coffee, letting out a sigh that came complete with its own cold-weather steam. “SSA Hollingsworth and I have talked it over, and we agree it’s best to call it a day. Everyone on the grounds is overwhelmed. We’ll have a much better shot at thorough, clearheaded interviews tomorrow morning. I’ve positioned officers along the perimeter of the grounds, and we’ll keep that going in shifts all night until we reconvene in the morning. And now that the protesters have been removed, the biggest dangers to the performers may have gone with them.”

  Mia muttered under her breath at Emma’s side. “Let’s hope so.”

  Jacinda sipped coffee before gesturing to Vance. “Update on your end of the situation?”

  Vance faced the group. “Right. We confiscated all remaining fireworks from the circus, which were given to us willingly, I should add. They’ve already been sent to the lab for testing.”

  He spoke about the types of fireworks they’d collected as well as their blast power, but Emma couldn’t quite focus on the details. She promised herself she’d look over the notes later or in the morning at the latest, knowing Vance would send them on for everyone’s review.

  Shifting back and forth on her feet, she tried to alleviate some of the aching in her soles. What a long, frustrating day. Even aside from her misstep around O’Rourke’s camper and the protesters interrupting her chance to finally interview the man, the best they could say for their efforts was that nobody else had died. Their very presence might’ve scared off the unsub altogether. Though that would mean an end to the danger, such a turn would also make it far harder to catch the killer.

  Vance wrapped up his assessment of the fireworks they’d collected by, predictably, letting them know the files would be sent electronically as soon as he had the chance.

  “Thanks, Vance.” Jacinda noted something on her tablet and scanned the group. “Tomorrow, a team will question the arrested activists and see if we can’t get a lead on who might be willing to do more than protest in the name of their cause.”

  Emma held up a hand to catch Jacinda’s attention before the SSA could dismiss them. “I have a concern.” She paused, feeling Kyle Perkins’s white gaze on her. His presence, however, was what created her concern. “If the unsub is one of the performers, no one in this ring of protection we’ve made is any safer than they were yesterday. We may be forcing all of them to stay in a dangerous situation.”

  Vance paused from stowing his tablet into his bag, frowning, but he didn’t voice any disagreement.

  Emma chanced a glance at Leo, knowing they were both thinking of their conversation with Bunny from earlier that day. Something wasn’t right there. The lines between adults and children, employees and employer, and family relationships were all mixed up in this circus. Leaving all these people in an enclosed space could be dangerous. “The posted officers could actually serve as a blind for the killer to operate under, right?”

  “Agent Last has a valid concern.” Jacinda met Emma’s eyes and nodded. “And I appreciate that. An outward-facing police force could have the knock-on effect of granting our unsub safe haven, if we assume that person is someone on the inside.”

  “I have to admit, that’s the most likely answer, but we don’t have anything to really point us at a suspect yet.”

  “Right again, Agent Last. And that’s why we’re here. For their part, the police officers will traverse the thoroughfare and the inner area of the circus. We can’t offer individual protective details for everyone within the circle of crime tape, but the officers are keeping an eye out inside the circus and along the perimeter for any suspicious activity.”

  Emma didn’t like it, and she regretted saying they didn’t have anything to go on. She and Leo did get a possible lead in their conversation with Bunny Weaver, but that hadn’t been part of an official interrogation. And the girl’s parents hadn’t been present either.

  Jacinda closed her tablet and gave a final opportunity for the team to add remarks. “Any additional comments or questions?”

  After her gaffe outside O’Rourke’s trailer, Emma was hesitant to admit to more off-book behavior. She checked Leo’s face for signs that he was thinking about what Bunny had said, but he remained focused solely on the SSA.

  Jacinda gestured to the parking lot. “All of you, go get some rest. Detective Griff and I will see to it that some officers are posted within the living area as well to make sure there are eyes on anyone moving about tonight. It isn’t enough by way of solving the case, but our investigation is far from over.”

  With that reminder, the agents dispersed. Emma wasted no time in heading toward her little white Prius parked on the edge of the lot. On the way, she passed by the ridiculously muscular ghost of Kyle Perkins.

  With his bloodied sweats and a grim expression, his very presence demanded an answer.

  The best she could offer was a nearly imperceptible shake of her head. Too many of her fellow agents were close by, and Leo in particular seemed keen on observing her behavior. He stood by his truck, watching as she dithered with her keys in hand but left the car door locked.

  Kyle’s ghost moved a few steps closer, his tortured face adding weight to Emma’s desire to talk to him. Leo climbed into his truck, still watching her as he closed the door. She waited for his engine to roar to life before addressing the ghost that now stood directly beside her.

  “We’ll be back, Mr. Perkins. I promise we’ll be back.”

  15

  The Weavers’ RV was quiet and calm. I watched for a little bit before standing, stretching, and slinking behind one of the trees in the campgrounds. The Weavers were good people. I’d looked up to them for so long. The mom, the dad, and the daughter…picture-perfect, complete with a pet horse. Bunny and the mare had warmed more hearts and put smiles on more faces than anything else this shit show of a circus had ever trotted out.

  Even though I’d grown up here, I never had a family unit like the Weavers. Hell, Mom hadn’t even stayed to watch me fill my first diaper. Ironic, right? People were supposed to run away and join the circus, not run away from it.

  I’d debated about the Weavers as targets, whether any of them should pay the price for what this place had become.

  Unlike the other three, I thought the Weavers hadn’t done anything deserving of death. Penelope and her secret abandoned baby. Dennis and the child support he neglected. Kyle and the wife he’d deceived. All three of them had screwed over their real family members and looked for acceptance here.

  And they’d found it.

  The Weavers already had it, or so I’d thought. But in the end, the truth came out, and it was worse than I’d dreamed. Because of one night, one stupid choice, Betty Weaver’s death would be truly tragic.

  And only true tragedy would close this cesspit of false families.

  I checked for any nearby cops before moving back into the heart of the circus. The time had nearly come for me to make my next statement, but one more errand demanded attention first.

  A little rumor had been going around the circus family, and it was time to check it out. The story couldn’t possibly be true, but I never thought it would be true about Betty either. I was hoping the rumors were just gossip being spread around by people with nothing better to do. But I couldn’t be lazy. Not this late in the game.

  Waiting out the Feds hadn’t been a big deal. Hell, the protesters lighting unexpected parking-lot fireworks had made the day fly by. Ha! And one thing was for sure after everything was said and done…the cops and Feds weren’t any closer to answers than when they’d started. Those parking-lot vultures were worth something, after all.

  And man, oh man, talk about having it rough. The Ruby Red had gotten its share of bad publicity. All the laugh-tastic protesters would make our little circus the talk of the region, if not the country. I’d have to look up some of the news coverage later on, just for more laughs.

  Moving around the opposite side of a small tent, I kept on going. I wasn’t worried about the cops stationed around the fairgrounds. None of them seemed to have a brain to speak of or care how many of us “circus freaks” lived or died. I’d heard them talking about us like we were nothing but weirdos and losers. Whatever. Unlike them, I had a real job to do.

  The rumor circulating was that Calliope, the hot young makeup artist, was screwing O’Rourke, the old bastard ringmaster.

  I’d had to convince myself that Betty Weaver was the next perfect target for bringing down the circus. But if that rumor were true, I might have another target to hit first.

  Calliope was young enough to be O’Rourke’s daughter. I’d paid close attention when she went back to her trailer after chow time. Alone. That had been hours ago now. I’d worried the Feds might try to get that interview with her after all, but they’d been busy dealing with the idiot protesters.

  Still, I was careful to stay out of sight as I made my way to Calliope’s camper, just in case those nosy Feds decided to poke around without a search warrant again. I’d overheard their boss chewing them out. Ha ha. But it didn’t mean they’d stuck to by-the-book interviews. I’d overheard them interrogating Bunny without her parents present, so I knew to be careful.

  “Better safe than sorry,” I whispered to myself. My breath puffed out, looking like a pale ghost ahead of me. “Calliope wants to paint a fucking target on herself by drawing my attention, far be it for me to interfere. ’Cause if she is with Reggie, that ain’t gonna stand for long.”

  Camper walls were thin, and they’d give me my answer.

  Calliope’s cotton-candy camper glared brightly despite the night, shining pink in the light from one of the strung-up lanterns and its stoop light. Softer yellow light filtered through the girl’s blue curtains, and I made sure to stand in the shadows along the corner of the building nearest Jebediah’s neighboring camper. That old man went to bed at nine o’clock on non-show nights, so I knew he wouldn’t be popping out to surprise me.

  I stood with my back to the camper’s metal siding and placed my ear at an angle to the nearest window. I waited, expecting to hear some stupid commentary from some streamed reality show.

  Calliope’s giggle sounded out after maybe five seconds.

  After it, a low male voice. A recognizable low male voice. Then kissing. Sloppy, wet kissing.

  Fucking whore and that old man are really doing it. I’ll be damned.

  I slammed my wrist up against my mouth, holding in a gag.

  The chair inside the camper creaked. “Come on, baby. Stop teasing old Reggie. It’s been a long day.”

  The man practically whined with lust. Unbelievable.

  “Oh, Mr. O’Rourke, you just be patient.” A radio turned on, spouting the kind of soft rock I hated. I remembered seeing Calliope dance around to something similar at a party.

  Whore’s giving the old man a lap dance.

  Minutes went by. I felt frozen but not by the air. Sure, I’d come to investigate this BS, but I was really hoping it was all a lie.

  Inside, O’Rourke commanded Calliope to take off her shirt and sit on his lap. When Calliope’s secondhand armchair started creaking like an old granny’s knees, I bit the inside of my cheek hard enough to taste blood.

  I won’t scream. I won’t cry. I won’t show myself. Not now.

  The whore and her old man would get what was coming to them. I’d see to it.

  Fate had shuffled Betty Weaver to death’s back burner.

  My mission had just taken an unexpected turn, that was all, and I’d make sure the new development worked in my favor.

  Fuck buddies or not, these two would be fucked when I got done.

  16

  Not even six hours after he’d left the fairgrounds, Leo pulled back up to the parking-lot gate and rolled down his window to present his ID to the uniformed cop guarding the entrance.

  This hadn’t been the plan. He’d had every intention of coming back the next morning once he and everyone else had enjoyed a good hot meal and a decent night’s rest in a warm bed.

  Instead, he’d been unable to sleep, with young Bunny’s words running laps in his brain.

  “We have the best times when it’s just me and Reggie!”

  She hadn’t hesitated to let them know that, yes, she was referencing alone time. Between just the two of them, a man in his fifties and a tween girl.

  Leo rubbed at his temple, temporarily easing an ache behind his eyes.

  Bunny was eleven. Tweens like her thought crushing on rock stars and having ice cream for dinner and winning the lottery were real-life goals. What did they know about what an adult should—or shouldn’t—be doing with them?

  And if she’d been groomed by O’Rourke over the course of her short life…well, that changed things. It changed things quite a bit. She might even have been groomed to say her favorite activity was Yahtzee.

  So here Leo was, back at the circus in the middle of the night, getting out of his truck and surveying the silent fairgrounds, waving his badge at another uniform as he entered the circus’s main entrance on foot and passed by the Ruby Red’s big top.

  After all, even if Leo didn’t have orders to be back that night, Jacinda hadn’t said they couldn’t come back.

  A flash of headlights pulling up next to his truck drew his attention. The lights went off almost immediately.

  Leo tucked next to a wooden lemonade stand. Voices of the male and female officers who’d checked his badge drifted through the cold night air. As soon as his eyes adjusted from the headlights, he noticed the white Prius parked next to his Ram.

  Looked like he wasn’t the only one having a restless night.

  Emma walked through the circus entrance. He got a good look at her as she passed beneath one of the streetlights. She’d changed out of her business-casual clothing and into a pair of dark sweatpants, black-and-white sneakers, and a dark coat. Emma blended in with the shadows.