Page 18 of Lethal Danger

“Uh-huh. My fried butter has dairy fats. They protect against cancer.”

“My popcorn offers whole grains.”

“Try to soothe your conscience much?” Molly smirked at Freddie before swinging her gaze back to Hawthorne. “How you doing, handsome? Now you, I could get used to seeing anytime of the day.” She winked as she propped one fist on her rounded hip.

“Don’t go trying to rob the cradle, Molly.” Freddie laughed as he shook his head.

Molly gave Freddie an exaggerated glare with a haughty lift to her chin. “Some of us are not as far over the hill as you are, Fred Blain.”

“Oh, yeah? How old do you think I am?”

She narrowed her eyes at the man as he shifted to the side so his teenaged employee could serve a customer.

“Fifty-four.”

Freddie glanced at Hawthorne, crossing his arms over his red apron. “She’s good.”

“Ha!” Molly flicked back her tightly curled brown hair, the locks barely long enough to brush her shoulder. “And just how old do you think I am?”

“Old enough to know better.” Freddie smirked again.

“Ouch.” Hawthorne groaned as he laughed. These two were something else. He’d already enjoyed their banter yesterday when he’d introduced himself. He wanted to get a sense of all aspects of the fair for future research, should he decide to use the setting for a book.

But his performance as a security guard would also be improved by cultivating informants, a neighborhood watch, scattered across the fairgrounds. After a little while, they might come to trust him enough that he could ask them about Sam Ackerman’s death, too. See if they were at the fair that year and remembered anything helpful.

“We saw you yesterday, scaling the Ferris wheel like you were Spiderman.” Molly gave him a light whack on the arm. “Where’d you learn to do that?”

“Online videos.”

She laughed. “Oh, go on.”

He chuckled and shrugged. “I enjoy rock climbing.”

“And being a hero.” Freddie looked at Hawthorne with a more serious set to his mouth. “That was a wonderful thing you did. Not many people risk their lives to help someone else. Especially a stranger.”

Discomfort started to creep up Hawthorne’s neck. Never did like attention. “Well, I wasn’t the only one. You probably saw Jazz Lamont up there, too.”

“Oh, yes. Isn’t she amazing?” Molly’s eyes lit. “I’ve known Jazzy for years.”

“Jazzy?” Hawthorne stared at her.

“That’s what we called her when she was just a scrawny little thing, running around here with her best friend, Nevaeh. She’s here this year, too. Both of them all grown up.” Molly sighed, a bit like a mother missing the days when her children were young.

“Jazz grew up here?”

“Mm-hmm. She was here every year back when I was a young thing.”

Freddie cleared his throat.

Molly shot him a glance. “A very young thing.” She smiled up at Hawthorne again. “Jazz spent her summers at the fairgrounds. At least that’s what it seemed like. I think she and Nevaeh were allowed on the grounds before the fair started because of Jazz’s aunt.”

“Her aunt?” Hawthorne struggled to put the pieces together.

“Joan Cracklen. The General Manager.”

“Oh. I didn’t know they were related.” That explained the close conversation Mrs. Cracklen and Jazz had after the Ferris wheel disaster.

“Poor Jazz. She must be upset over what happened yesterday.” Molly’s chin puckered as she looked down. “She loves the fair more than anything. She always called it her home.”

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