Page 35 of You Can Make Me (Carnival of Mysteries #28)

Eighteen

C ooper

I slept through Denny waking up to tour the security system with Walter, and I pretended to sleep when he came back so he’d curl up and hold me once more.

I loved the feel of him pressed against my back and didn’t want to move, but my mind wouldn’t stop cycling through the information gleaned the previous night.

The carnival was real.

Dane was the Dane Donovan, and not the son of the missing folk singer.

Dane and the big man who had been at the house the day of my attack had both worked at the carnival.

Denny and Dane had used the same Ouija board I’d seen that day months ago, and he’d discovered that I’d actually gone to the carnival once upon a time. Almost.

Using the Ouija board had caused Denny to have chest pains, which triggered my biggest fear, now that he was back in my life. I could not lose this man, not for the carnival, not for all the truth in the world.

I had so many questions, but the words of the old women echoed in my consciousness.

You seek answers meant for others

Maybe that was the bottom line. My whole life’s purpose had been to seek the truth, to understand why people did what they did, why things happened the way they did.

But that perpetual search for the truth had worn me down and put me in a precarious scenario that I almost didn’t survive.

A child who touches a hot stove learns real quick not to do it again…

or spends the rest of their life worrying their parents and getting themselves into quandary after quandary.

Maybe it wasn’t my place to know everything.

You trespass upon the fears of mothers

You tread upon the bonds of brothers

And it will be your undoing

How many times had I gone after a story and pushed further than I should to get to the truth, resulting in tears or angry words?

I thought back to the day I’d met the damn witches.

I was just an intern trying to make a name for himself.

I’d been lurking in the canyon, basically stalking these two kids who a source told me were related to Nat Greene, the alleged former lover of Tess Miller.

He’d been questioned about her murder, but he’d had a solid alibi, and no reporter had been able to get his side of the story.

I’d wanted to be the one to get to the bottom of his connection to Tess.

The kids hung around the Canyon Store, eating ice cream in the afternoons during the summer with a group of other kids, all around high-school age.

Like a creep, I’d followed them into the parking lot that day and thought I could at least find out if Nat was still around.

Rumor had it he was still in the canyon, but every time I’d run searches, I couldn’t find an address for him.

I hadn’t accounted for the fact that their mom would be picking them up. She read me the riot act, told me to stay away from her family or I’d be hearing from her lawyer.

“My uncle is a broken man. He never recovered from losing Tess Miller, and every time you vultures come around he relives that loss over and over again. My father has taken care of him for years. The whole thing has been a dark cloud over us. Let it go. Leave him be, or I swear to God you’ll pay for it. ”

Her pain, her anger, they hit me like a slap and left me full of shame. Then the old women implanted that vicious poem in my brain that I couldn’t get rid of.

You question the righteous

You goad the innocent

You cater to the immoral

And it will bring about your demise

By pushing for information about the carnival, had I put the innocent like Dane in danger? By letting the dreams in and trying to understand them, had I fallen into an evil man’s plan? What if by being in this house, I was putting them all in harm’s way?

Your curiosity will lead you to death’s doorstep

Your pleas will go unheard

Your bargaining will fall on deaf ears

And your life will be forfeit

So dwell on the consequences

Weigh your options

Settle your debts

And the Reaper may pass you by

But continue on this path

Remain on this road

And upon the area of rest

The swipe of the blade will be the ultimate test

That rest had absolutely come true. So how did I help Walter and Gene put this Virgil Evans away forever? How did I stop him from hurting more people? What if that night at the rest area wasn’t my last test? What if there was still more to come?

“Baby, you’re shaking. What’s going on?”

I rolled over and kissed his forehead.”I’m okay, just having some muscle spasms. Get some more sleep. I need to get up, but you need rest. I think I heard Dane. I’ll go help him cook.”

I sat up and looked back at Denny.

The love of my life.

The man who rescued me and kept me alive, who took care of me when I couldn’t get my shit together.

He’d been my rock, always there. But now that I knew about his health issues, I would always worry about him.

Life was fragile, I’d experienced that myself, but the thought of anything happening to him terrified me.

And I hated being terrified. I’d had enough.

Dane seemed to have come to some understanding with fear after what had happened to him.

My God , his scars. I had so many questions for him, but maybe it wasn’t my place to poke at his wounds.

I climbed carefully from the bed, trying not to disturb Denny.

He really did sleep hard when he allowed himself to rest. I thought about young Denny, sent to foreign lands to protect and serve, how frightened he must have been but determined to do his job.

His determination to do right was one of the things I loved most about him, but it had taken its toll.

I wanted to believe we had a long life ahead of us together, but we’d have to be cautious.

I may have been the one with the visible scars, but he carried deeper ones that I was determined to care for, the way he’d cared for me. And for that, I needed more information.

I found clean clothes and new toothbrushes on the counter of the bathroom attached to the bedroom we’d slept in.

I thought about what I knew of Walter Muse.

He was kind of a quieter, maybe sneakier version of Denny.

Just as devoted to his work, just as caring of a man judging by how careful he was with Dane.

They were so in love. Walter moved to meet Dane’s every need, almost like they had a telepathic connection.

It was achingly beautiful. Aspirational.

But then I had that with Denny, didn’t I? He knew what I needed often before I did. He was so attuned to my moods, my stupid tears, that he magically conjured tissue every time I even felt them about to erupt. So how did I meet him in the middle and give back all that he’d given to me?

That thought was foremost in my mind when I left the bathroom in someone else’s Ryan Wells and The Travellers t-shirt and black cotton shorts.

Travelers?

The carnival?

I came around the corner, trying not to thunk too loudly with my cane, and spotted Dane in the kitchen humming to himself.

He wore an apron over a thin-strapped racerback white tank top and white pajama pants with pink and red lipstick kisses.

His long hair was pulled up into a topknot.

Deep scars were visible on his shoulder blades, like road rash or a burn.

As he reached up for a top cabinet, I saw the scars on his forearms and hands once again, and I marveled at how they didn’t take away from his beauty. And he was beautiful.

I recalled meeting him the day of the interview and feeling a unique vibe from him.

It was unusual, as if he were not what he seemed, but I’d been thrown by Denny’s appearance and hadn’t taken the time to analyze my observations.

As he moved through the kitchen, it was almost as if the space were a greenscreen, or he was the greenscreen. Not an exact match.

Not fully of this world.

He did a dance move and spun around, letting out an “eep” when he caught me lurking.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.”

He laughed and pointed to the counter with a spatula covered with batter.

“Have a seat. You could have stomped in here like an elephant and I still would jump. I’m better, but I still spook easy.

Walter gets me all the time because he moves so quiet-like.

” He set down his spatula and wiped up the bit he’d flung onto the microwave. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

I managed to climb onto the stool and leaned my cane against the counter. I was extra stiff this morning and after the events of last night, I didn’t want to be without it.

“You didn’t. I can’t lay down for too long or I get stiff. Combination of my cuts and the time I spent in a hospital bed. Denny has been working out with me, which helps a lot. I was a damned skeleton when he helped me escape.”

“I’m so sorry, Cooper. Walter and I felt just awful. I know you needed the time to recover, but I’m really glad you’re here.” His friendly smile was shy but also confident. He was king of this domain, and I would imagine that Walter had done a lot to lift him up.

“I’m sorry that you didn’t have anyone when you were hurt, Dane. You were alone for so long.”

Dane’s smile slipped and those haunted green eyes of his rounded. “Well, for me it was only a few weeks, you know.”

“That blows my mind.” The carnival had to possess some strong magic to turn forty years into a few weeks.

“A guy named Pokey found me. He brought me food and water, dressed my cuts, but yeah. I spent a week or so in bed and then they put me to work when I couldn’t stand lying around anymore.”

“ A week? It’s taken me months, and I’m barely upright and not acting like a caveman.”

“Caveman. I doubt that.” He pulled out a griddle from the lower cabinet and plugged it in on the island so he could work while facing me.

“Maybe more of a troll. Poor Denny had to deal with the worst from me.”