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Authors: Connie Archer

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BOOK: A Roux of Revenge
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“What about that driver’s license
from Maine?”

“No luck there. That man died ten years ago. Can you believe it? Who the hell is this guy? And I’m still waiting for the results of those paint scrapings and any fingerprints or anything else that turns up.”

“Sorry you’re having such a tough time.”

Remy stepped down from the railing and walked toward them.

“Tough ain’t the word. Somebody shot this guy. He died of blood
loss and shock. How the hell can I find who did that if I can’t even identify the victim?” He nodded toward the musicians setting up on stage. “That’s my next stop. But I doubt I’ll get very far there.”

“Why do you say that?”

Nate shrugged. “Look at ’em.” Nate indicated the other end of the festival area where the stage sat under a stand of trees. “They’re travelers, I’m sure. Even if
they know who the dead guy is, they probably wouldn’t tell me anyway.” He grumbled.

Remy had remained silent, listening to their exchange. Four people moved around the wooden stage, three men and a woman, preparing to begin their set. The woman moved to center stage. She wore a long flowing skirt and balanced a stand-up bass against her shoulder. She played long slow notes with her bow as
she deftly adjusted the tension in the strings. One man sat on a stool behind a keyboard, another picked up a banjo, and the third took his place at the side with a violin.

Nate watched the activity on stage. “Looks like I missed my opening. I’ll have to wait for a break,” Nate said.

Lucky spotted Sophie and Janie exiting from the gate to the corn maze and waved to them to catch their
attention. Sophie waved back. She and Janie walked toward them.

“Janie’s here?” Remy asked. He stood straighter and ran a hand through his hair.

Lucky nodded, aware that Remy had done his best to attract Janie’s attention months before.

The woman on stage coaxed long, slow notes from her instrument. She began to sing. The keyboardist and the violinist played quietly in the background,
supporting her plaintive song. The words were unrecognizable. Lucky listened carefully. She was sure she was listening to Gaelic. Something about the music tugged at her heart. Without understanding the words she knew it was a song of yearning, perhaps of love lost. Sophie and Janie stood quietly next to her. The rhythm of the song picked up, and the man playing the violin moved downstage, out
of the shadow of the trees. Janie gasped and grabbed Lucky’s arm.

Sophie was instantly aware of Janie’s reaction. “What is it?” she whispered to Lucky.

Janie’s face was pale. “It’s him,” she breathed. “Lucky, that’s the man I’ve seen.”

“Are you sure it’s the same man?”

Janie nodded.

Lucky sensed someone behind them. She turned and saw Ernie White tap on Nate’s shoulder.

“Trouble, Nate?”

Nate’s face was a closed book. “No trouble, Ernie. Just talking to a few of your people here.”

“I’d appreciate it if you’d talk to me first or let me know you’re coming.”

“Oh? Why’s that?” Nate asked. Beneath his casual reply Lucky heard an undertone of Nate’s official voice.

Ernie laughed suddenly. An effort to make light that came off as an angry bark. “People
get nervous when they see cops around. Especially cops asking questions. I don’t think a police presence is good for business, Nate.”

Nate was silent, showing no reaction. “You better rethink that, Ernie, because you wouldn’t have these concessions without a license, and that license can be easily revoked. My job is to make sure this town is safe, and if I think you’re harboring any undesirables,
then I’m gonna start asking questions. Do you get my drift?”

Ernie’s face flushed a deep red. “Now don’t go accusing me of anything. Everything here is open and aboveboard.”

“Then you shouldn’t mind my sniffing around.” Nate glanced down at Ernie’s feet. Lucky noticed his eyes harden.

Bradley was approaching from the direction of the horse fence, pushing the young man forward. His
wrists were secured behind his back.

Nate called out, “Put him in the car, Bradley. We’re taking him to the station.”

“Hey,” Ernie shouted. “You can’t do that. We need all the help we can get here.”

Lucky saw the tall violinist on stage turn slightly to watch as Bradley walked his charge to the cruiser. The man caught the eye of the keyboardist and indicated with a subtle nod of his
head the action occurring in the parking lot. Lucky turned to watch. In the parking lot Bradley opened the rear door of the cruiser and, placing his hand on the head of the young man, pushed him into the police vehicle. No one on stage changed their positions or their expressions, but Lucky was certain every one of the musicians was aware of the young man’s capture.

“Are you arresting him,
Nate?” Remy asked.

“I’ll let you know if I charge him with anything. Right now I just want to talk to him, find out why he tried to run.”

Another man with weathered skin approached from the open field and walked in their direction. Ignoring Nate, he spoke directly to Ernie. “I’m planning on harvesting that corn before the week is out.”

“You can’t do that. Not now,” Ernie shouted. “This
festival runs till Halloween. The kids have to have the corn maze.”

“I told you before, Ernie. I couldn’t promise I’d hold off all week. I gotta harvest that corn now.”

Ernie’s face grew red. “Like hell! You told me you could wait till
after
Halloween. I put up ropes and everything.”

“They can have their corn maze; I’ll hold off on that section till later. But I can’t have anybody
in there or anywhere around when we come through with the combine. You know that, Ernie.”

“Damn it. You said you were gonna wait.”

“I said I’d try. And I have waited. I can’t wait anymore. We’re gonna go through that field in a few days—very early at first light. Just you make sure no one’s around when we do. I don’t want any accidents. Besides, you told me you were gonna fence off that
area, and you didn’t do it. We agreed on a temporary fence, not stakes and ropes.”

“What are you talking about? I never said that. That’s not part of our deal.”

“Like hell, Ernie White. It may not be written in the contract, but you gave me your word. Don’t ask me to trust you next time you want to use my property.”

“There won’t be a next time,” Ernie snarled. “I’ll find another field.”

“Fine by me.” The man turned and headed back toward the cornfield. “You got today and two more days and then we’re going through that corn,” he shouted over his shoulder.

Ernie fumed. “Son of a . . .” He muttered under his breath.

“Watch it,” Nate said. “There are ladies here.” Nate had remained silent during the exchange between Ernie and the farmer. “And I want to see
you
first thing
tomorrow at the station with your employment records and proof of insurance. And make sure you provide home addresses for all these people you hire and a list of the farmers’ and vendors’ concessions. You got that?”

Ernie looked furious but didn’t say a word. If it was possible, his face grew redder and a vein throbbed in his forehead. He took a deep breath and made a conscious effort to quell
his temper. “Sure thing, Nate,” he said through gritted teeth. “Not a problem.” Ernie stormed away in the direction of the vegetable sellers.

Remy looked as if he wanted to say something to Janie, but she had taken no notice of him. “I’ll see you all later,” he said. “I better lend a hand with the horses.” He hurried away toward the corral.

“Ladies,” Nate said, “it’s been a delight.” He
smiled and headed toward the cruiser where Bradley waited, his prisoner locked in the back.

Sophie squeezed Lucky’s arm to get her attention. Janie was white as a sheet, still staring at the man playing the violin.

“Janie, are you okay?” Lucky asked.

“No,” she replied angrily. “I’m not okay. That man is a . . . traveler. I heard all about them in town.” She turned to Lucky, a stricken
look on her face. “How awful is that? My father is a
homeless
man. And my mother slept with him!” she cried.

Sophie’s eyes grew wide, shocked at the meaning of Janie’s words.

Lucky placed her free arm around Janie’s shoulders. Her whole body was trembling.

Janie turned back to look at the stage. Her face shifted as realization dawned. “Oh no,” she whispered. “Was my
mother
one of them?”

Lucky opened her mouth to speak, wanting to be honest, but unsure what to say. Miriam would have to be the one to reach her daughter. If only Janie would break down and talk to her.

Hot tears spilled down Janie’s cheeks. “Please, can we go? I don’t want to stay here. I don’t want anything to do with these people . . . these
gypsies
.” She spat out the words. She pulled away from Lucky and
ran toward the parking lot.

Lucky sighed and turned to Sophie. “Let’s go. I think we just made a bad thing worse.”

Chapter 21

S
OPHIE SLOWED TO
a stop in front of the Spoonful. They had ridden back in complete silence. Janie sat in the backseat, her cheek pressed against the glass staring up at the sky. She looked
completely miserable. Sophie was confused but careful not to ask any questions. Lucky was forced to remain silent, unable to offer any information to Sophie or solace to Janie without risking another outburst. As soon as the car came to a stop, Janie jumped out and headed inside the restaurant to return to work. She hadn’t spoken a word since leaving the festival.

“Well, that went well,” Sophie
remarked.

Lucky sighed. “No good deed . . . as they say.”

“Uh, can you fill me in?” Sophie drummed her fingers against the steering wheel impatiently. “What was all that about?”

Lucky closed her eyes and leaned back against the headrest. “I’ll give you the broad strokes, but you have to promise never to tell this to anyone, even Sage, and you can’t let Janie know I’ve told you.”

“It’s a deal,” Sophie replied.

Lucky conveyed the gist of Janie’s dilemma in a few short sentences. When she had finished, Sophie let out a low whistle. “Well, that must have been a shock to the poor kid.”

“It was . . . it is. However, she’s sleeping on my sofa, and I’d really like to see her make it up with her mother and go home. I thought today might cheer her up a bit. Boy, was I wrong!”

“Well, that’s no reason for her to act like a total little brat, especially where you’re concerned.”

“She’s a good kid, Sophie. She’s just had a big shock, and she’s so young she doesn’t have any experience of real life or what can happen to people—people like her mother. Miriam’s the one I feel bad for. I’m sure this is breaking her heart. Her whole life’s revolved around that girl. She
must feel like she’s been kicked in the stomach.”

“Frankly, I don’t know what she’s so upset about. I would have traded my whole family any day for a tribe of travelers. I used to dream about running away with the circus when I was thirteen.”

Lucky laughed. “You think you’d trade ’em in. But trust me, you wouldn’t.”

Sophie grew still for a moment. “Speaking of trading in . . .” She
looked carefully at Lucky. “What you were telling me last night about Elias? There might be something to it.”

Lucky felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. “What are you talking about?”

“A couple of little birdies have been chirping in my ear.”

Lucky waited, her heart beating heavily. This was not going to be good news.

“The word is that you and Elias have broken up and
that he’s seeing the new doctor at the Clinic.”

“Whaaat?” Lucky said. “Where did you hear that?”

“One of the bartenders at the Lodge saw them having dinner last night. They seemed very cozy.”

“Last night?” The night that Elias said he had other plans. The night he didn’t come with her to Sophie’s. “So who said we were breaking up?”

“I can’t remember, Lucky.” Sophie looked apologetic.

“Come on, Sophie. Of course you can remember.”

“No. Honestly. It was
really
thirdhand. And where it originally came from, I don’t know. I think it was one of the waitresses from the Resort who’s friendly with a woman who’s a patient at the Clinic, who heard something from someone there.” Sophie held up her hands in surrender. “That’s it. That’s all I know.”

Lucky bit her lip. “If that’s
true, it might have been decent of him to at least let
me
know.” A heavy feeling settled in her chest. She felt as if the world she knew was spinning around too fast.

Sophie reached over and grasped her hand. “Look, maybe it’s not at all true. You know how rumors start. Everyone in this town is so damn nosy. Maybe somebody noticed an attractive woman working there and jumped to conclusions.
It could be as simple and as stupid as that.”

“Or not.” Lucky could barely choke out the words. She felt hot angry tears forming.

Sophie hit her in the shoulder. “Cut it out. It’s not true unless it comes from the horse’s mouth. I know what I’d do. I’d march myself right over there and get in his face and ask him point blank what’s going on.”

BOOK: A Roux of Revenge
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