Page 70 of Lethal Danger

“The sister who left the cult?”

“Yeah. Sam, the boy who died, was her boyfriend when they were both still inside.”

“But if he was a member of the cult himself, how could he still go to the fair?”

Hawthorne chewed and swallowed the fettucine that was getting cold, thanks to more talking than eating. “Sometimes the kids figure out ways to bend the rules.” As he had more than once. “They want a taste of freedom. And they often have a better sense than the adults do that much is wrong with the culture at Best Life. It’s their parents’ choice to live under Patch’s thumb, not theirs.”

“Spoken from personal experience?”

Hawthorne quirked his mouth. Insightful and perceptive, too. He’d have to add those to her list of positive character traits. “Yeah.”

“So what have you found out about his death?”

“Nothing concrete yet, but I’d like to follow up on some things that I can only do by getting into the cult.”

“Or letting me go in for you.”

“Exactly.”

She clasped her hands together and let out a low-volume squeal. “I’m going to get to be like Carson Steele.”

“A much prettier version.” Where had that remark come from? She’d probably think he was flirting. But with her excited smile beaming at him, he couldn’t help but voice the incongruity of her comparing herself to the gruff and rugged hero he’d created.

A pink hint of a blush flushed her cheeks in the dim lighting. She dropped her gaze for a second, then flitted her eyes near his face again, as if suddenly shy. “What would you like me to find out for you?”

“My sister told me about a young guy she thinks had motive to kill Sam. His name is Randall Gleams, and he’d be nineteen years old now. He apparently dated my sister and became jealous when she dumped him for Sam. She said he used to work in the gift shop. If you can get him talking about Sam and try to gauge his emotions about him, that could be helpful.”

“Okay. Pump the jealous ex-boyfriend. What’s your sister’s name?”

“Rebekah.”

Jazz smiled. “A lovely, traditional name.”

He chuckled. “Which doesn’t fit her at all. At least at this stage in her life.”

Jazz’s eyes twinkled back at him. “She sounds fun.”

“That’s one way of putting it.” He shook his head. “She’s a real task master with this investigation. Wants me to have it solved yesterday.”

“Well, you are the famous Hawthorne Emerson. Carson Steele probably would’ve had it solved yesterday.”

“Not at all.” Hawthorne puffed up his chest as if offended. “The book would be way too short.”

“Good point.” Jazz grinned. “Anything else I can check out for you that would move things along, at an appropriate pace for your plot that I guess we’re living out?”

The smile that didn’t seem to leave his face much when Jazz was around stretched bigger. Great sense of humor. Needed to add that to his Jazz Lamont heroine, too. “Yeah. If you can talk to Sam’s mom, that would be huge.”

“His mom is still there?”

“According to Rebekah. She said his dad left because he blamed the cult, but Sam’s mom stayed. I’ll try to find out from Rebekah if she knows what dwelling Sam’s mom is living in.”

“Dwelling?”

“That’s what w—” Had he really almost said we when referring to the cult? The near slip churned the fettucine that had made it to his belly. “It’s what they call the condos the members live in.”

“Okay. What do you want me to ask her?”

“Anything she remembers about that day before Sam snuck out in the evening. And especially if he had any friends on the outside, probably kids who aged out and left the cult.”

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