“This carnival has everything backwards,” he told her. “They put the freaky girls in the model show, and the pretty girls in the freak show. It makes no sense.”
“You’re dangerously close to being charming.”
“I know. There’s always danger in the air when I’m around.”
“Are you going to kiss me or not?”
“That’s an easy choice.” He drew her close and gave her a long kiss, while her hands clasped behind his neck. The feeling of his body pressed against her made her shiver. Since joining the carnival, he’d slept in a cot in the crowded roustabout tent, but she was often tempted to invite him back to her personal tent instead. Tonight, she was in a very tempted sort of mood.
After a few minutes, she pulled back and smiled up at him. Her cheeks felt like they were caked in mud, and when she touched them, her fingers came away green.
“You got Frankenstein makeup all over me!” she said.
“Now you look like the Bride of Frankenstein.”
“Frankenstein doesn’t have a bride.”
“Poor Frankenstein. One of my favorite picture shows.”
“I would love to see a picture show with you.” She rose on her tiptoes to bring her face closer. He kissed her again, but this time one of his hands slipped down her back to caress her bottom through her dress. She let out a delighted, surprised squeal into his mouth and pressed herself against his broad chest. Her body was flushed and heated. She tried to work up the nerve to whisper a suggestion in his ear, that they should both go to her tent.
Bright yellow light flooded the space behind her closed eyelids. She opened her eyes, blinking at the flashlight pointed at them from the ground below. They’d been caught, and anyone left on the midway could see them now, embracing, green Frankenstein paint smeared on her face.
“What are you kids doing up there?” Filip shouted.
“Ah...” Sebastian replied.
“Get down here! There’s someone needs to talk to you. I’ll unlock the front door.” The flashlight swooped down to the entrance of the haunted house.
A minute later, the two of them emerged from the front door, looking sheepish. Filip shook his head at the sight of them.
“This man needs a word,” Filip told them. He pointed his copper flashlight at a large man standing beside him, who had a thick beard and wore a suit and fedora.
Juliana jumped in surprise, then grabbed Sebastian’s hand. It was her repeat customer, the man who stared at her a little too hard. He lit a cigar with a match.
“He’s got a special offer for you,” Filip said. “A side gig. Sounds like it pays well.” Filip tapped a folded dollar bill jutting from his shirt pocket. The bearded man had clearly seen Juliana enter the haunted house and paid an entire dollar just for Filip to stick around and help him.
“I don’t do private performances,” Juliana said.
“Are you the ones who caused all the ruckus at the tent revival about a month ago? In Missouri?” the stranger asked.
“We don’t know what you mean,” Sebastian said quickly.
“In that case, I must be the country’s worst detective,” he said. “After interviewing all those witnesses and tracking down this carnival. If you were the ones I was looking for, I know a man who’d like to meet you. He’ll pay you for your time. A sawbuck. Each.” He held up a pair of bank-crisp ten-dollar bills.
Juliana’s eyes bulged at so much money. Perhaps she did give private performances.
“Ten dollars for what?” Sebastian asked.
“We should take a walk.” The man led them out to the center of the midway and strolled down it, away from the performance tents and toward the front gate. Filip departed in the opposite direction.
“I’m a private investigator,” he told the two of them. “Currently on retainer for a man—an association of men, in fact—looking for people with...how do we say it? Unusual abilities. The ‘supernormal,’ they call it. Supernatural, even.” He smoked his cigar, looking them over as if measuring them. They were out of earshot of the last remaining carnies, who were closing down the grab stands.
“Why?” Juliana asked.
“Explaining beyond that isn’t my job. What I can tell you is that one of them lives here in South Carolina, and like I said, he’s offering you ten dollars each just to sit and talk with him. You might get a good meal out of it, too.”
“And what will we talk about?” Juliana asked.
The man shrugged.
“Is he here in town?” Sebastian asked.
“No, he’s in a much bigger town, Fallen Oak. About two hundred miles southeast.”