Candy-Coated Secrets (10 page)

With those words, the enormity of Ethan’s love washed over me as gentle as a spring rain. I was seriously in danger of drowning in his eyes, suffocating beneath the warm blanket of his love. What a way to go.

“I hate to break up the lovefest,” Joe said, taking my elbow. “But we’ve got to get the two of you safely into a building.”

“Not the livestock one,” I told him. “I won’t go in there.”

Ethan shot out a hand to stop Joe. “How’s Diablo?”

“Lost a lot of blood. The rodeo vet is checking him out. Said it doesn’t appear as if the bullet hit anything vital. My concern is for you two.”

Joe veered toward the arts and crafts building. Ethan remained glued to my other side, with Aunt Eunice and Uncle Roy trotting behind. Mr. Foreman, the fair owner, met us in front of the building. His son rushed to slam the door behind us.

“Mr. Banning.” Mr. Foreman offered a hand. “So pleased to see you’re all right. I have no idea what could’ve happened.”

“Someone shot Diablo.” Ethan pulled up the nearest straight-backed chair and helped me onto the hard plastic.

Things had happened so fast. I stared at the men milling in front of me. Aunt Eunice fussed over Ethan and brushed the dust from his clothes until he moved her away. Uncle Roy stood with arms crossed and feet shoulder-width apart.

“I wish I had my gun,” he grumbled. “I would’ve got the culprit and blown him to smithereens. Should’ve brought it, but Eunice wouldn’t let me.”

“The last thing we need is another nutcase running around with a gun.” Joe smiled to take the bite off his words. He turned to the Foremans. “Could you excuse us, please? And mark this building off limits.”

“But the pickle judging contest!” Aunt Eunice’s eyes widened.

“You can have my office,” Mr. Foreman offered. He twirled a finger in his mustache. “It’s not far from here, and we can take the back door. Eddy, run ahead and unlock it.” He tossed a ring of keys to his son. “And Mrs. Meadows’ pickles will still be available for judging. Whether she’s present or not.”

For the last several months, the tribulations of having us for a family tormented Joe. He always threatened to apply for a job with a different agency. Preferably in a different city than one I lived in. From the expression on his red face, I guessed he was one step closer to the county line. We were the proverbial thorn in his side. I think if Ethan and April weren’t part of the group, Joe would’ve washed his hands of the whole bunch.

With the help of two arriving police officers, Joe ushered us out the back, across a strip of grass, around a coil of electrical cables, and into a trailer. “There’s ice water and soda in the fridge. Help yourself.” Mr. Foreman closed the door on his way out.

The trailer was decorated clinical shabby. Dingy gray walls, aluminum blinds on the two thin windows, and a battered wooden desk. Two green plastic chairs faced the desk. I plopped into one of these.

“Stay here.” Joe stood framed in the doorway. “I’ll be back to ask questions as soon as I’m able.”

Four pairs of eyes looked down at me. “Why are all of you staring at me? They weren’t shooting at me.”

“Actually. . .” Joe stepped closer. “I believe they were. They missed. I’ll know more later.” He turned and left.

My knees trembled, and I thanked God for the chair beneath me. My mind raced over the week’s events. Someone wanted to shoot me? “I don’t understand. The last time I’d been involved in a murder case, I’d—”
I’d what?

Sure, I’d been shoved into the trunk of a car and had a gun pointed at my head by a man who fancied he loved me. And he’d shot at me while I ran through the woods, but I’d known he was going to do that. What kind of a coward shoots at a woman when she isn’t looking?

My knuckles hurt from the grip I had on the bottom of the chair. Fear and anger swirled in my veins. With a growing sense of helplessness, I narrowed my eyes. “There’s more to this than Millie hanging herself in the shower, not that I believe she actually hung herself. You can’t hang yourself from a trailer shower. Even I know the pipes aren’t strong enough. This concerns me, and I want to know why.”

Ethan glanced at Uncle Roy. His silent gesture told me Ethan knew exactly what went on. We would be having a serious conversation when we got home. “Let’s talk about this when Joe returns, okay?”

The temperature inside the trailer grew warm with all of us crowded in waiting for Joe to return. When he did, over an hour later, my aunt’s and uncle’s heads were nodding. They jerked awake when Joe yanked open the door.

“Well?” I jumped to my feet. “Did someone try to shoot me? What is going on, and don’t give me any of that confidentiality garbage.”

Joe nodded. “We found bullet casings and footprints in the dust of the catwalk above the fun house. From the angle we figure the bullet came from, it should have got you in the back of the head.”

“Why?” An icy hand gripped my heart.

My cousin rubbed his hands across his buzz cut. “Someone has been embezzling funds from Foreman’s carnival. That person is running scared. Afraid of you finding out too much information. At least that’s what we think at this point.”

“I didn’t do anything until I got stuck on top of that Ferris wheel.”

“Summer, people run scared as soon as you walk in their general vicinity.” Joe frowned.

“Ha ha.” Crossing my arms, I slouched in my chair. “I promised Ethan I wouldn’t go anywhere alone, and today, surrounded by people, I’m almost killed.” My heart sank like a stone. That bullet could have struck Ethan as easily as me or Diablo.

“I won’t run, Joe. Hiding in a hole is out of the question. If someone thinks I know something, I’m going to find out what that is.”

“Summer, I’ll lock you up if I have to and throw away the key. Don’t think I won’t.” Joe looked so much like Uncle Roy as he stood there with his hands on his hips that I snorted and fought back a giggle.

Aunt Eunice stepped to my side and put an arm around my shoulder. “And I’m going to help her. A Meadows doesn’t run.”

“You’re only a Meadows by marriage, Eunice,” Uncle Roy informed her.

“We’ve been married long enough that it’s the same thing. Don’t try to stop me, Roy. You know how I am when I get my dander up. Purely lethal. Joe can’t lock us both up.”

The warm feelings aroused by my aunt’s ferocious defense chilled at the look on Ethan’s face. His handsome features could have been chiseled from granite. He worked his cowboy hat in his hands, crushing the brim. A muscle ticked in his jaw. My giant of a man could be gentle as a lamb or ferocious as a tiger. I had a feeling I’d be meeting the angry cat later tonight.

“Is that all, Joe?” Suddenly I wanted out of the stifling trailer and away from the glaring eyes of my family.

“Y’all come over and eat,” Aunt Eunice invited. “I’ve a pot roast in the Crock-Pot. We can decide how to proceed over a rump of beef.”

“I’ll meet you in our spot,” Ethan whispered as he took my arm and helped me from the chair.

Normally, “our spot” was a place to meet for privacy. I found myself less than anxious to be alone with Ethan tonight.

Mr. Foreman waited outside the trailer. His grin spread as wide as his mustache. “Mrs. Meadows, I’m pleased to announce you won a blue ribbon for your bread-and-butter pickles.” He handed her a first place ribbon then turned to Ethan. “And for the second year running, I’ve heard that Mr. Banning had the best time in the bronc riding. Well done, sir. I’m sorry you missed the announcement of your name.”

Hard to believe they would’ve continued the rodeo after the shooting, but as they say, the show must go on. Pride flooded through me at Ethan’s win. Diablo had been the toughest of the horses, and still Ethan won. Another glance at his clenched jaw, and my smile faded.

“I’m going to check on my horse. See you later.” He gave me a quick peck and stalked away.

While Aunt Eunice put the final touches on dinner, I slipped out the back door and made my way to the tree house where Ethan and I had hung out as kids. Since almost falling from the rotting ladder a while back, I hadn’t climbed inside.

Ethan stepped from the shadows beneath the tree. He gathered me in his arms and crushed me to his chest. He cried. Silently. His body trembled with sobs.

“Ethan?”

He rested his chin on top of my head. “I know I can’t stop you from snooping, Summer, although God help me, I’d like to. All I can do is ask.”

“I didn’t go looking for this.”

“I know, and I’m more frightened than I’ve ever been in my life.” I tasted the salt of his tears when our lips met. A kiss so tender, gentle tears sprang to my eyes. “You’re my world, Summer Meadows. The reason the sun rises each morning, and the meaning behind it setting at night.” His breath tickled my lips.

A roar from my left had me scurrying behind Ethan. “What was that?”

“It sounded like a lion.” Ethan grabbed my hand. “A mountain lion?”

“No.”

I remembered the roar from the carnival. My insides turned to ice. The only place a cat that size would have come from was the fairgrounds. I squinted through the darkness. “Ethan, there. Hanging from the tree on the other side of the clearing. What is it?”

Chapter Twelve

The roar came again, much closer. Startled birds darted from the trees. Ethan sprinted toward the house, pulling me behind. A growl. The sound erupted from somewhere in front of us. Ethan stopped. He pushed me behind him, plastering me between his back and a tree.

“Where is it?” My voice trembled.

“I don’t know. It could be anywhere.” Ethan squatted then rose with a thick stick in his hand. I stepped forward, wanting to be by his side.

Another roar.

The force of my scream tore at my throat.

Ethan shoved me. My shoulder connected with the tree trunk, and I scraped my way to the ground. Bark against skin. Not a good combination. I couldn’t see whether my arm bled, but it stung like fire ants were marching across my upper arm.

Outlined by moonlight, my brave mountain man faced a lion. A large male worthy of National Geographic. The lion, not Ethan. Ethan stood with knees slightly bent and shoulder-width apart. The cat threw back his head, its mane waving in the slight breeze. He advanced on huge paws toward Ethan. My breath caught in my throat.

This could not be happening. This wasn’t Wild America. For a moment, I nurtured the notion that hidden cameras might be filming us and that the massive feline was actually a tame pet. Another growl clarified the reality of the situation.

Ethan and the animal circled each other. I pushed to my feet. My gaze searched the ground around me. I would not allow Ethan to fight this ferocious beast alone. I grasped a rock the size of my fist.

“Summer, get back.”

“You aren’t doing this alone.” I stepped up beside him. “If you distract me, we’re both dead.”

“I’m not going to stand back and watch you get eaten.”

Ethan shook his head. “Then back up slowly. And stay behind me.”

We moved backward in choreographed steps. The lion mimicked and stepped forward. He stopped, sniffed the breeze, and turned toward the bag hanging from a tree. Ethan whirled and shoved me ahead of him. “Run!”

My tree house sat back approximately half a football field-length from the house. The distance seemed like miles as we hurtled through the woods. Any second, I expected to find myself knocked to the ground by a carnivore going for my jugular.

Uncle Roy met us on the back stoop, his trusty rifle in hand. Joe appeared from around the corner of the house, pistol in hand.

“What is it? The dog’s been going crazy. We finally had to lock her in the bathroom.”

Ethan wrenched open the door and shoved me inside. “Get inside, Roy! It’s a lion.”

“We don’t have lions around here. Mountain lions, but I ain’t seen one of them in years. Nothing big enough to make that noise anyway.” He entered the house behind us and locked the door before peering through the curtains. “Of course the Wilson boys swear they saw Bigfoot not more than a week ago, terrorizing their cows. Think it’s Bigfoot?”

Joe met Ethan’s gaze. “No, Uncle Roy, he doesn’t think it’s Bigfoot.”

“I know you young folks don’t believe, but Bigfoot’s real. Just because you’ve never seen him doesn’t mean he don’t exist.” Uncle Roy took a seat in a kitchen chair and placed his rifle across his lap. “People don’t see God, but we know He’s there.”

We all stared at Uncle Roy. As unusual as it was for me, I found myself at a loss for words. I still reeled from the shock of facing the king of the jungle. The prospect of a living, breathing, ape-slash-man creature circling the house definitely did not seem believable.

“What is it?” Aunt Eunice bustled into the kitchen.

“Bigfoot,” Uncle Roy told her.

My aunt’s hand flew to her throat. “Do you think he’s after my pot roast?”

April entered the room with a pitcher of iced tea in her hand. Her eyes widened for a minute, then she giggled, meeting my gaze. Having grown up spending a lot of nights at my house, she was used to my aunt’s and uncle’s strange statements.