Smoke, Mirrors and Demons (The Carnival Society Book 1) Page 8

  “Another loser?” Duke asked. But he laughed.

  “A rich loser this time. The best kind of loser,” Lilly said.

  We sat on the sofas and Nuno had handed around cans of beer. I planned on nursing mine until I could get away without anyone making a fuss.

  “What about you, Jayne?” Lilly asked.

  “Huh?” I wasn’t sure what she was asking.

  “You got a date?” she asked. “You were in a rush to leave.”

  Did I lie and say yes or tell the truth and look like a total loser? I hadn’t had a date in years. Before I could answer, Duke butted in.

  “Jayne hasn’t been laid in a long time. You can tell by the way she moves up there.” He nodded toward the aerial hoop.

  “Whoa, buddy, that is crossing the line,” I said. Maybe I’d drank more of that beer than I’d thought. It’d been so long since I’d had any alcohol that I had to be careful about my limits. Still, Duke could watch himself. “My personal life is my personal life.”

  “When it effects your performance, it is no longer personal. You move like a woman who needs to get laid.”

  Lilly huffed. “That’s just macho bullshit and you know it. It’s guys who get all fucked up if they don’t get laid, not us women.”

  I nodded, glad she’d jumped in like that.

  “So, how long’s it been, Jayne?” Duke asked. “A few months? Longer?”

  It’d been much longer but I didn’t want to discuss that. My face reddened and I looked away.

  “It’s been none of your business,” I said.

  Nuno caught my eye and pointed to my beer. I was about to shake my head then I realized the can in my hand was empty. I’d drank that faster than intended. That wasn’t good but while Nuno got the beers, I had my chance to ask about him.

  I leaned closer to Duke and Lilly.

  “Ah... Nuno...” How did I even start?

  “He can’t talk,” Lilly said. “Well, he can but he chooses not to. It’s a long story. Don’t take it personally. He communicates with Duke and me because we’ve known him so long that we understand him but strangers find him aloof.”

  I wouldn’t have found him aloof if I’d known. Why hadn’t they just told me up front?

  “Why does he choose not to talk?” I asked.

  “Long story,” said Lilly.

  Then Nuno came back out with the beers and I had no chance to ask more.

  In the meantime, Lilly started telling Duke a long story about a mutual friend. I tried to follow it in case she let something slip but it was a meandering story that included a lot of sex. That wouldn’t help with the investigation at all.

  Finally, she checked her watch and got up to leave.

  “Good luck,” I said to her.

  “I don’t need luck,” she said with a laugh and thrust her breasts forward. Then she winked.

  “Lilly, give it a break. Save the vamp stuff for your rich old man,” Duke said. “Excuse me a minute, I’m going outside to make a phone call.”

  When Lilly left, Nuno gathered up the empty cans and an assortment of dishes and cups from around the warehouse and took them into the kitchen area. I’d been planning on doing that myself but I’d been too exhausted.

  Now I could get some snooping done. For a moment, I was tempted to give the office area a miss and eavesdrop on Duke’s phone call instead. He must have his reasons for going outside to talk in private. But that seemed a waste of good snooping time. I wasn’t sure how long Nuno would be in the kitchen, although once he finished washing up, he’d probably assume I’d left if I wasn’t around downstairs.

  I rushed up the stairs, glad that I hadn’t put my shoes back on after training. Bare feet were much quieter.

  Now, where to start? The laptops were turned off and it’d take too long to hack their passwords. Instead, I opened the desk drawer and went through it. I squatted down so I couldn’t be seen from the floor level but craned my neck to check if Duke had come back yet. It was all quiet downstairs.

  The top drawer was all random office stationery — paper clips and staples and pens. So that’s why Duke hadn’t wanted me up here. Scared I’d steal his paper clip collection.

  The second drawer had a bunch of paperwork. I flicked through it but it was all contracts for performances and that type of thing. Nothing at all unusual.

  Then I tried the bottom drawer. It was locked. No biggie. I opened the top drawer again and got out a couple of paper clips. I’d have that drawer open in a jiffy. Sure, evidence obtained like this was not legal and inadmissible in court but I needed a starting point.

  I gulped. Who was I becoming? Other people crossed those lines not me, yet now I did it so lightly.

  Before I finished tweaking, the lights in the warehouse went out and the door slammed shut. Was I locked in?

  I’d worry about that later. For now, it meant I had all the snooping time I needed.

  The light shining through the windows was enough for me to find my way around. There was a lamp on the desk so I put it on the floor and turned it on.

  It didn’t take much to open that lock and I slid out the drawer, hoping to find something worthwhile. A firm link to the murders, for instance.

  Nope. A locked cash box.

  That might stand further investigation but probably not.

  I stood up and turned on the laptop. The elderly machine wheezed into action. This might take a while.

  As I waited for the laptop to start up, I looked through the papers sitting on the desk top. Again, nothing untoward. Just some sample fliers for the show. Older ones with Gretchen’s name still on them then some more recent that included my name. My fake name.

  Seeing my name on that flier filled me with mixed emotions. It was impossible that anyone would connect that name with my past. It’d been chosen at random. The images on the flier were all hand drawn, making the troupe look bold and sexy. The drawn person who was supposed to be me was the same image they’d used on the old fliers. Obviously, it wasn’t worth commissioning new art work. Yet, strangely, the old image looked like me. Similar hair, similar face shape and even something in the pose. I held the flier under the lamp to see it in better light.

  At the audition, I’d overheard Lilly and Duke talk about that too. They’d said I looked like Gretchen. Maybe I did. Maybe it was bad art work. I had to get a photo of her when she was still alive.

  Finally, the laptop beeped. The password screen had loaded. I bent over to start trying to get in.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” The voice came from behind me.

  Shit. Duke. I’d been sprung.

  Chapter 16

  I SPUN AROUND TO FACE him. I needed to think quick. What was I doing?

  “Ah, nothing...”

  I reddened as his gaze focused on me. Even in the semi-darkness, I could sense the suspicion in that stare. I turned and fumbled on the desk top, then slid open the top drawer again.

  “My shoe... the sole was loose so I wanted to see if there was any glue.” I glanced into the drawer. “Obviously not. Oh well, I’ll have to wear them as they are.” I gulped. My words sounded fishy even to my own ears. “Okay, I’d better get going.”

  I moved away from the desk but the blue glow from the laptop made it obvious that I’d been doing more than looking for glue. Duke didn’t seem to notice, though. He nudged me out of the way and pulled out the computer chair to sit down. I tried to hover. If he entered the password, it’d make my job all the easier. He blocked my view with his body though and then turned back to me.

  “I thought you were rushing off.”

  “You might need the lights on,” I said. “It’ll ruin your eyesight otherwise.”

  “Thanks for your concern.”

  “Hey, if you’re going to be throwing knives at me, I don’t want you having any vision problems.”

  “The knife throwing isn’t about vision. It’s about sensing. It’s like... ah, there’s no point in explaining. It’s something you get or you don
’t.”

  He wasn’t going to do anything useful on that laptop while I lingered around and I had no excuse for staying. It was probably best that I got out of there before he noticed anything else astray in the office.

  “Oh, Jayne,” Duke said. “What are you doing tomorrow morning?”

  “It’s the weekend, right? We get the weekend off.”

  I smiled and he laughed. I didn’t like that one bit. He turned the laptop off.

  “So, tell me what you were really doing here,” he said. He stood up so that I was trapped in the space between him and the atrium railing.

  He reached out and stroked my arm. Was he trying to use that persuasion power on me? He knew it didn’t work. Maybe I should’ve pretended it had so that now I’d be able to lie to him much more readily.

  I needed to think fast and only one thing came to mind. Pretending I had a thing for Duke had worked with Lilly. Maybe it’d work just as well with Duke himself.

  I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, a trick I’d seen Lilly use effectively. Actually, that was a great idea. I’d just pretend I was Lilly.

  “We rarely get a chance to spend time alone,” I said, trying to make my voice all husky.

  I waited for him to scoff. Of course he’d scoff. I was no Lilly. Like she said, I was practical and serviceable. Not a sex kitten.

  But he didn’t scoff, he just kept his gaze on me. I turned my head away.

  He had both his hands on my arms now, a light hold. I could easily break away but wasn’t sure if I should. I’d started this thing, I needed to play it out. He just kept scrutinizing me. I needed to make the next move to keep this charade up, but I had no idea what the next move would even be.

  Duke put his finger under my chin, lifting my face to his.

  Shit he’s going to kiss me. He’s going to kiss me. The words hammered to the beat of my heat, fast and loud. I hadn’t wanted to go that far.

  Had I?

  “I’m going to check out the performance site tomorrow morning,” he said. “I want you to come with me. You need to check out the clearance for your act. Meet me here around eight. Then, after the site tour, more training. We don’t have weekends off. Not this close to a performance.”

  I nodded. Then shook myself free of him and bolted from the warehouse.

  What had happened there? I wouldn’t have let him kiss even if he’d tried. I was sure. But a small doubt tickled at my brain. Would I? Maybe it was all part of his persuasion powers. He’d charmed me, magically charmed me.

  That had to be it. But that night in bed, I couldn’t sleep. I stared at the ceiling wondering whether his mustache would’ve tickled or not.

  Which was stupid because I didn’t even like him. He was everything I hated in a man. He was way too bossy and a potential serial killer. He hadn’t even paid attention to me until after I had that stupid makeover, which proved he was shallow and weak.

  And he was vain. He wore those vintage frock coats every day. I could understand if he wore them onstage but every single day. That was way too much.

  WE MET AT THE WAREHOUSE the next morning. I hadn’t realized Duke had a car. But then I hadn’t thought about it that much either. If anything, I’d have assumed he drove some kind of vintage car as showy as the clothes he wore, but the white van was far more practical.

  I got into the passenger seat without talking. Duke didn’t talk either. We stopped at a red light and he side eyed me. I pretended I didn’t notice. The next red light I didn’t even try to catch him glimpsing at me. Whether he looked or didn’t, it was nothing to me.

  I had to stay impartial. Letting personal feelings mess with your investigation was the biggest no-no of undercover work. Only a fool would go there.

  I saw the tent as we drove to the parking lot. It wasn’t so much a tent as a wooden structure, decorated baroque style in gaudy shades of red and blue and green all trimmed with gold.

  Everything about it thrilled me. It suggested mystery and excitement and glamour. The kind of place any performer would love to play.

  Food vans lined the street leading to the tent. Most of them closed this early in the morning.

  “I hope that coffee van is open,” Duke said as we drove past one.

  That was the first thing he’d said to me on the entire drive.

  I nodded. I wasn’t much of a coffee drinker but having something to do with my hands would be a fine thing.

  We parked and walked back to the tent. Even with the vans closed, the smells hung in the air. Stale popcorn dominated everything else but sweet and spicy mixed in with it. I stopped walking, closing my eyes. Those smells overwhelmed me, taking me back to when they’d been so familiar, I never knew a life that existed without them.

  A million memories rushed back to me, memories that I’d locked away for so long. Some of them happy but you couldn’t have the happy memories without the bad. I tried to block them all, to put them back in that place where they belonged but the surge was too strong.

  There was no going back.

  Chapter 17

  “ARE YOU OKAY?” DUKE said. “You look pale.”

  “I’m fine,” I said.

  “If you’re having dizzy spells, I need to know. You can’t train if it’s going to impact your safety.”

  I shook my head. “That won’t be a problem.”

  But maybe it would. Back at the warehouse, I had no issues but if I was going to perform here, I didn’t want my past intruding.

  Duke flashed a pass at a security guard and we went inside the enclosed area. When we entered the tent, the smells receded and my memories got pushed back to where they came from.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Duke asked.

  “Yep. Never been better.” I smiled to reassure him.

  The inside of the tent was just as grand as the outside promised. Of course, in the light of day with the place empty it lacked the atmosphere it’d have at night. But still, the structure was magnificent. I ran my hand down the beautifully carved teak struts weathered with decades of use and indented with mirrors. Velvet curtains canopied the ceiling giving the intimate stage an opulence you rarely saw.

  Booths lined the outer circle, each separated with velvet curtains giving the impression of deluxe train carriages. The kind of places for clandestine affairs.

  In front of the booths, a promenade gave easy access to the bar at one side. I wasn’t sure I liked the bar idea. It meant audience members getting up and moving around during the performance. But I guess the money had to come from somewhere, and nothing made money like booze.

  Rubber matting covered the promenade floor. The kind that had cables running under it. No safety risks there.

  The area in front would be filled with audience seats later but now stood empty, the wooden folding chairs all stacked to one side. It seemed a shame to cover that gorgeous parquetry floor with cheap folding chairs.

  I walked over and shook one of the struts. Solid and strong. Then I walked into the middle of the tent. The hoop would be much lower here than we’d used in rehearsal but oh boy, would I look good highlighted against that ceiling.

  My belly tingled but not in a bad way. Instead, excitement bubbled up inside me. I’d be performing. Here. This place would be filled with people, all watching me. All thrilling to my performance.

  All of a sudden, Duke’s nagging didn’t seem like a bad thing. If anything, he wasn’t strict enough. I had to be perfect, beyond perfect. I had to take people’s breath away. I had to make them believe the impossible was possible.

  As much as I denied it, as much as I’d pushed the thoughts away for the past ten years, this was where I belonged. The part of me right at the core of my being knew that and felt at home.

  I was born to perform.

  “Everything looks fine,” I said, fighting to control the racing excitement inside me.

  “You’ve barely looked.”

  “I know,” I replied. “I mean, I know it’s fine.”

  Duke walke
d into the center of the stage to join me. He looked up at the infrastructure.

  “You can tell from looking?”

  It wasn’t just that. I knew, deep in my bones that this place was right. I didn’t need to see the specs or test everything out. I couldn’t really explain that to him though. I gazed around and I could see how the show would play out. When we needed to raise and lower the hoop, where I’d be at each beat of the performance.

  He took a step closer. I stepped back to keep the distance between us but he grabbed my arms. The heat of his hands flooded my body. For a moment, his gaze hit mine but I turned my head back to the ceiling, to the rigging running under the tented fabric up there.

  “It’s your life that will be held by those beams,” he said. “I don’t want us taking any risks.”

  “You’ll be throwing knives at me,” I said and tried to laugh but the nearness of him made that difficult.

  “Around you, not at you.”

  Even more risky than the aerial act and even more risky than the knife throwing was this man. The way he held onto me. It flustered my insides. He wasn’t someone I could get involved with. I knew what he was doing to me. He thought I’d perform better if I got laid. He’d said it himself. He had no interest in me personally, just the performance.

  I shook myself free of his arms and took a run up, leaping into the air to grab one of the beams.

  “See, it’s fine.”

  I hauled myself up so I sat on the beam, way above Duke’s head.

  He walked around the perimeter of the stage.

  “Where will you set up the Wheel of Death?” I asked. “I guess it’s got to be the east side of the stage. You wouldn’t want to risk hitting an audience member if you missed.”

  “I never miss,” he replied. “But yes, it will be on the east side.”

  I nodded my head then realized I couldn’t stay up on the rigging for much longer and swung my way down.

  “It all looks good to me,” I said.

  “I’m still not convinced you gave it a proper look over,” Duke said, moving closer.