“Fuck,” Keene grumbled. “What do we do?”
“You go to the station, give your statement, but make sure you do it with your lawyer,” Coffey suggested. “These guys don’t seem like they know shit about shit.”
“Agreed.” Keene ran his hands through his hair. “I got a shit ton of donuts in the car. Let’s go grab a few things to eat, let them figure this out, and let me talk to one of those officers to see if we can continue to set up. If we can’t, we need to announce that we’re not going to be able to open in the morning. Which’ll be a shit ton of work.”
Keene disappeared to do what he did.
I looked at Keene’s truck and knew I wouldn’t be able to stomach a donut.
Not with today and the aftereffects of yesterday.
“Want a ride to the station?” Coffey asked, flicking his fingers toward a motorcycle that I hadn’t seen parked beside our travel bus until now.
I blinked and stared at it, then turned back to him with the straightest face I could muster.
“Of course, but what’s the motorcycle for?”
CHAPTER 9
You let out between two and six and a half cups of fart a day.
-Fun fact
COFFEY
“Of course, but what’s the motorcycle for?” she asked, face void of any emotion.
I snorted and pulled her into my side, hugging her tight.
She looked like she could really use a hug.
So hug her, I did.
She leaned into my chest, her body fitting perfectly in my arms, and sighed.
In the distance, I watched as the deputies started to load the body into a body bag. Zero crime scene technicians in sight.
Nobody processing the scene.
All kinds of evidence were being destroyed.
It was as if they were completely oblivious to what was normal when processing a murder scene.
I took my phone out and started to record.
“What are you doing?” Simi whispered into my chest.
“Recording this bullshit,” I said. “I feel like it’s something your lawyer can use if this moron of a sheriff decides to get extra about you leaving the station later. Just because you were the first to find the body doesn’t mean you’re a slam dunk as the murderer.”
She blew out a shaky breath, then wrapped her arms around my torso, now clinging on so tightly that I knew she was scared.
“I’m about to tell you something that nobody knows except for a very select few in the circus and my family,” she said shakily. “Maybe it’ll help explain my reaction.”
I tensed, repositioned the phone to continue recording by switching to the front camera, placed the magnetic case against the trailer we were next to, and then moved her away.
Only when I knew we weren’t in hearing distance of the phone and in an open field did I say, “Tell me.”
I had a feeling this was what she’d been unwilling to talk about the last time we’d been together.
“My mom was murdered at the circus, too,” she whispered. “In the Fun House.”
My stomach clenched at her words.
“What happened?” I asked.
“She was murdered,” she said. “I was the one to find her. That’s why I’ll never go into those fun houses willingly ever again.”
I pressed a kiss to the top of her head and continued my line of questions, “Did they find her killer?”
“No,” she admitted. “My dad was…promiscuous. He wasn’t tied down by any woman, least of all my mother. But he did end up showing particular favoritism toward her, and at first, everyone thought it would be a jealous lover. Or one of my sisters’ moms. But everyone was cleared—by a competent person, I might add—and my mother became a cold case. There was no evidence. It was never repeated. It was like…she was forgotten.”
I shifted my hand up underneath her hair to cup the back of her neck. “I’m sorry to hear about your mom, baby.”
She shivered in my arms. “I was thirteen when I found her.”
“Fuck,” I rasped.
That was horrible for anyone of any age to find their parent murdered. But a thirteen-year-old impressionable young girl? That was huge.
That affected her entire life.
“All right,” Keene came back, startling the two of us. “We’re all headed to the station to give our statements. We can take the van. Ready?”
I looked over to find my phone still where I had left it, recording the deputies destroying the scene.
“I’m recording that,” I pointed.
Keene frowned and nodded. “I have a large one that we can use that usually records our shows. It’s livestreamed, too. I’ll get that one going so we can monitor and anyone else who wants to monitor can monitor, too.”
“Isn’t that kind of morbid? You filming that for anyone to see?” Simi asked.
Keene shrugged. “Maybe. But we’re covering our asses. Meet you back at the van in five.”
Then he was gone, leaving us alone again.
“You wearing that to the station?” I asked.
Not that I had a problem with what she was wearing, but she might. She was in a tight black number. A leotard, I decided. One that was spaghetti straps on top and long pants on bottom that went over even her feet to tuck down into the very soft-looking shoes she was wearing.
She looked damn hot, to be completely honest, and the moment I’d seen her from across the field, regardless of the fuckin’ cops surrounding her, I’d wanted her.
“No,” she grumbled. “Let me go get changed…come on.”
“Get in the front,” Keene ordered. “You won’t like sitting back there.”
She did as ordered and I winked at Simi, who was waiting for me to get in the back with her. We cruised over to their motorhome so she could change.
I led her up the steps to the van after she put a few more clothes on, though I did wait until all of the sisters were inside before I closed the door behind them.
I would also like to admit at this point that, though all of them were gorgeous, only one of them had been in my thoughts nonstop since she’d left me.
“I can’t believe this,” one of them said as I got into the front seat and slammed the door closed.
Much harder than I’d intended to, anyway. I’d been thinking about the way Simi’s ass had looked in that leotard thing as she’d climbed into the back seat of the van.
“I can’t believe it either,” Keene grumbled. “What do we know about Mary? Let’s brainstorm the last stop and figure out who saw her last.”
That’s what they did for the ten-minute drive to the sheriff’s department.
“So what we know is this,” Keene said as he pulled into the sheriff’s office and parked the van. He didn’t get out, though. “Mary was last seen two Fridays ago when we were in Texas. Val saw her walking off with a guest who was in need of help finding a lost wallet. Nobody saw her when it was time to load up. Is that correct?”
“Yes,” Simi answered. “I didn’t even see her the next day or any of the next week for training, which I keep up with even on our off time. Which should’ve been a red flag for me since she usually hounds me to practice at least a few days in. She never even came over to talk to me and she normally would tell me if she was going anywhere.”