Before She Dies (Alexandria Novels 3) - Page 29

“Obie Penn.” She scrambled through her memory and produced the image of a young man who had stood tall with broad shoulders. He’d had lean hips and auburn hair that brushed his collar. Grace had had a thing for Obie, who’d been five years her senior. Once he’d even managed to coax her behind the tent and get his hand up her shirt before Grady had caught them. Grady had been furious and had said he’d cut Obie’s nuts off if he ever touched Grace again. Obie had backed off. Grace had been horrified. They’d never gone behind the tent again. But she’d been angry, and the seeds of rebellion had been sown.

“Obie, how are you?” His long calloused palm wrapped around her outstretched manicured fingers. She looked a little closer and recognized the brown eyes that had made her forget caution long ago.

He grinned. “You look great.”

“Thanks.”

He hesitated before he released her hand. “I always figured you’d end up living the high life. Grady said you were always meant for big things, and I guess he was right.”

Grady had said that about her? All she remembered was the old man barking at her about being difficult. “You look good, too. I mean from what I can see.”

He laughed, flashing small, yellowed teeth. “I’m usually not this green around the gills. Grady’s got me working the costumes this week because the regular guy got arrested for drugs in Roanoke, Virginia.”

In the carnival, everyone had to be prepared to fill in for anyone else. She’d worked the ball toss and even run the Ferris wheel for a few days around her fifteenth birthday. “Sorry to hear that.”

“Ah, well, it wasn’t the first time, and it won’t be the last.” He planted a hand on his hip. “So what brings you here? I think you are about the last person I’d expect to see here.”

“Just curious, I guess.”

“So what do you do now? Married to some fat cat?”

“I’m an attorney.”

“And I’m still here.”

Face makeup had already begun to dip into crow’s feet etched deep by the sun. What would she have looked like if she’d stayed? Hardened to the point of being unrecognizable. Crazy like her mother. “Wow. Do you like it?”

“Can’t complain.”

“So what do you do when you’re not scaring kids?”

The paint on his face cracked a fraction when he smiled. “Grady’s got me managing the games most nights. I’ve got six I oversee.”

“That’s great. Sounds like it keeps you busy.”

“Oh, it does.”

She glanced around at the growing crowd. “Have you seen Grady?”

“He’s probably working the rifle shot. Or maybe he’s busting on the ghouls. Most were hung over and moving slow this afternoon.”

“Never a dull moment.”

“Not here.”

An awkward silence settled between them. Whatever they’d once had in common had vanished over the last eighteen years. “It was good seeing you, Obie.”

“You, too, Grace.”

“I go by the name Charlotte now.”

He eyed her for a moment. “Fits you and your fancy new look. But I can’t say I like it.” He leaned forward a fraction. “I like the plump little Grace who wasn’t afraid to go behind the tent with me.” His breath smelled of cigarettes and pizza.

She inched back and didn’t hide the shiver of disgust too well. “She’s long gone, Obie. I’m Charlotte now. So don’t call me Grace.”

Frankenstein’s eyes narrowed. “I see you got an attitude to go with the suit. Mariah was like that. All attitude. Don’t forget where you came from.”

“Believe me, I haven’t.” But it wasn’t for lack of trying.

He looked as if he had more to say when a little boy and his parents approached Obie.

“Can we take your picture, Mr. Frankenstein?” the kid’s mom said.

Obie, annoyed by the interruption, knew better than to break character in front of a customer. That was Grady’s number one rule: never disappoint the customer.

Nodding and grunting, Frankenstein raised his arms and grunted just like the movie character.

As the boy stood grinning in front of his monster and the dad snapped pictures, Charlotte moved away from him, letting the crowd swallow her. She continued to meander down the center aisle closer and closer to the Madame Divine tent. She thought she could see Sooner, maybe caution her about the article’s exposure when she gave her the revised lease.

As she approached, she heard Sooner chanting in a low throaty voice that sounded, well, possessed. Intrigued, Charlotte ducked inside the tent and stood in the background as Sooner took the hand of the woman sitting before her. In her late fifties, the woman had graying hair that framed a round face made paler by a bright pumpkin-colored sweatshirt.

Sooner clutched the woman’s hand and with her eyes closed said, “I am seeing your husband. He is smiling.”

The woman cleared her throat. “He is? Is he smiling at me?”

“He is. And he wants me to tell you that he misses you very much.”

The lady drew in a sharp breath. “Tell him that I’ve missed him, too. He really was the best husband in the world.”

/> Sooner swayed back and forth as she held her hand. “And he says you were the best wife.” Slowly she opened her eyes. She glanced briefly past the woman to Charlotte but her gaze darted back so quickly it was doubtful the woman noticed. “Is there a question you would like to ask him?”

“No, no question.”

“I’m seeing the color red. Was that an important color to him?”

“No, I don’t think so. He did like to hunt.”

“Perhaps what I’m seeing is his own passion for you. He misses your touch.”

The lady nodded and softly began to weep. Sooner pulled out a tissue and handed it to the woman. “I am so glad we were able to connect with your husband, Herbert. It’s not always so easy to reach into the other world.”

“Thank you so much for trying.”

“I have one more message from Herbert.”

“Yes?”

“He does not want you to be alone. He wants you to talk to the nice man at church who likes you more than you realize.”

“He does?”

“Yes.” She straightened her shoulders. “Now that will be thirty dollars.”

The woman opened her cloth purse and pulled out two twenties. “Keep the change.”

“That is very generous of you.” Sooner slid the money in the locked box that Grady always provided. One of his first lessons was to get the money under lock and key.

The woman rose and, dabbing her eyes, passed by Charlotte without a glance.

Sooner waited until the woman was well clear of the tent before she rose and stretched the kinks from her back. “Going to be a long night.”

Charlotte crossed into the room and took the seat opposite Sooner. This close, she could see that the girl had a knack for applying the makeup. She looked exotic without cosmetics, but with them, looked very ethereal. “Why didn’t you get payment right up front?”

“I did. That extra thirty was a last-minute add-on. I could have asked for it up front but suspected if I waited I’d get a good tip.”

Tags: Mary Burton Alexandria Novels Suspense
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