Page 136 of Chalk Outline
“Yes, ma’am.” He steps back, swallowing the thickness in his throat. I can almost hear his racing heartbeat.
I laugh at that.
“Go on, sweetie.” She gently pats my shoulder twice. “Get yourself what you want and wait for me in the car.”
I nod as she walks away.
As I approach the short line of people waiting for their hands-on experience with cotton candy, a whimsical voice booms through the speakers.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the show is about to start. You may enter the tents,” he announces.
In seconds, the vast waiting area becomes nearly empty.
I grin at the worker who hands me a tall stick topped with a tasty pink cloud of cotton candy. I slip my hands into my jeans pocket to pull out the twenty-dollar bill I have—
It’s empty.
I check the other pocket and my rear pockets as well.
What?
I had money.
My eyebrows furrow.
The clown.
Did he steal my money?
I glance over my shoulder at my bodyguard. “Can you cover this? I’ll pay you back when we get home.”
He quickly takes over and pulls out his wallet. “Sure.”
“Thanks,” I say with a small grin, looking around once more. An unsettling feeling creeps through my bones. A few workers stay inside their vendors, but not for long, as they also start moving toward the tents.
Horror music plays from the speakers, and a creepy laugh blares.
I walk toward the tent of the woman I saw earlier. Tossing a piece of sweet fluff into my mouth, I feel it melt against my tongue. Just as I am about to peek between the curtains again, murmurs and a crunching sound drift toward me.
I round the tent, hiding behind a large sign with the circus logo—Carnage Trolls in cursive gold lettering—and a list of shows.
“James won’t be happy about this,” says one man to the other. “But he was a liability anyway. Now help me put him in a body bag.”
James... the guy Grandma was searching for.
My heart starts picking up pace as I watch the masked men shove a lifeless body into a bag. I stay silent, hoping they won’t hear it ticking so loudly.
They wear black masks that cover their entire face, with two holes for their eyes.
“I want more money,” one of them snarls. “He is starting to get on my last nerve with all of these killings.”
“At least there aren’t any cameras in the lot, and there’s a forest behind, so we have some privacy.”
“So fucking what,” he lashes out.
“Lower your voice,” the other warns sternly. “He pays us well, and the job is easy. Plus, he said we would get more opportunities soon.”
“I’m not going to prison over this, and if I do, I want insurance to keep my mouth shut, or I’ll rat you out.”
