Free Clowns and Cowboys (A Miranda and Parker Mystery Book 3) by Linsey Lanier

trailer door and sank down onto them. Miranda noticed a small garden filled with red rosebushes. The grumpy clown had a green thumb? She eyed his small trailer. He couldn’t have grown them in there. He must have gotten the plants from a local nursery. She wondered if he left them there for the next trailer park guest when the circus left town. Despite his crude demeanor, perhaps he had a soft spot for growing things.
    Harvey put his cheeks in his fists and scowled at the bowling pins. “I can’t do Tupper’s act tomorrow night.”
    Sam sat down next to him and patted his knee. “Sure you can, Harvey.”
    He shook his head. “Damn thing is, I taught him the routine. He stole it from me, really. But he made it his own. His signature. I can’t do it the way he did.”
    Miranda gave Parker a let-me-try-this look and squatted down next the man. As she did, she got a nice whiff of old clown BO. She ignored it.
    “How did the act go?” she asked in a gentle, warming-up-to-you tone.
    His eyes brightened. “Oh, it’s a good one. First you do some bragging business with the bowling pins and some patter, you know. Talk to the crowd, get them going, so they expect you to be the greatest juggler they’ve ever seen. Then you toss all three pins in the air and let them drop. Big laugh.”
    He got up and strolled over to the bowling pins on the ground, put his hands on his hips. “Then you do some shtick, blaming the pins.” He shook his fists at them. “You try it again, same thing. A few more times, then you plop down on the floor and cry.” He did so, pantomiming kicking his legs and wiping his eyes with twisting fists. “Then you beg the crowd for help and while you do, Jubjub sneaks up behind you. She’s the clown dressed like a fairy princess. Real cute costume. The crowd tries to tell you she’s there, but you don’t get it. Just then Jubjub sprinkles you with fairy dust—that’s just glitter confetti—and you get up and go after her, grabbing the pins like you’re going to hit her over the head with them, but instead, you magically start juggling them. Two. Three. You pick up a forth one…”
    He started tossing the pins in the air and catching them while he was talking. It was as if telling the story brought back the muscle memory. He was really good.
    “Fifth one.” He reached down and grabbed it, tossed it up with the others—and dropped them all. “Shit!” He shuffled over to the steps and sank down again. “At least I’ve got the dropping part down.”
    “You just need practice,” Sam told him.
    “Mr. Hackett,” Parker said as if there’d been no interruption. “It seems you were close to Tupper Magnuson.”
    He shrugged. “Sure. We were both in the troupe. Most of our acts were together.”
    “Can you tell us what sort of mood was he in lately?”
    “Mood? Tupper didn’t have moods. He was always in good spirits. So freakin’ happy it was sickening.”
    “He was in love,” Sam said flatly.
    Miranda glared at him. She didn’t need him supplying answers to this guy. But he only frowned at her. She thought about what Detective Underwood had called her and Parker. Sam was the real civilian here.
    She took a breath and picked up the questioning. “We understand Mr. Magnuson was recently engaged.”
    “Yeah. To that fine piece of—” He looked up at Miranda and cleared his throat. “To that aerial artist who climbed the silk ropes. She’s a looker, all right.” He squinted at Miranda. “You’re not so bad yourself, come to think of it.”
    “Thanks,” she grimaced. Just what she always wanted. A come on from a dirty old clown.
    “Was there any trouble between the couple?” Parker asked.
    “Trouble?”
    “Did they argue? Fight about anything?”
    He waved both hands. “Maybe once or twice. Minor shit. They’d make up right away. You couldn’t keep those two apart. They were always lovey-dovey, kissy face. Couldn’t get enough of each other. Like I said.