Free mystic caravan mystery 02 - freaky lies by Amanda M. Lee Page B

circus folk,” Kathy said. “That makes you weird in general. Oh, but … don’t take that personally.”
    “Why would I take that personally?” I asked, working overtime to rein in my bubbling snark.
    “Because you’re a woman and you can’t help yourself from taking everything personally,” Annette replied, not missing a beat. “That’s why you’re still internally fuming that this one thinks you’re normal, which essentially means you’re average. You don’t want to be average.”
    “I am not fuming over that!” Okay, I might be fuming a little. No one has ever called me normal. That’s just about the worst thing you can say to a person, especially one in my position.
    “Whatever,” Annette said, rolling her eyes. “Despite the fact that you’re circus folk, you don’t look like murderers. I get feelings about people, and the sense I get when I look at you two is that you’re trustworthy – although you both have secrets you’re keeping from each other.”
    Well that was just … crap. “Everyone has secrets,” I said, opting to change tactics. “There are personal things no one wants to share with anyone else.”
    “Yeah, well, you’ll both get over that eventually,” Annette said, seemingly unbothered that she’d hit a nerve. Because I’m familiar with magical abilities part of me wondered whether she really had the sight or if this was just a show she put on for farmers market shoppers. “As for Frank, well, he was something of a local legend.”
    “What does that mean?” Kade asked. He didn’t seem remotely bothered by Annette’s “secrets” comment. I made a mental note to feel him out about that later. I didn’t want him suspecting me of hiding something – even though I was. I couldn’t help but wonder whether he was hiding something from me, though. What? I’m curious. Sue me.
    “Frank is … well … .” Kathy screwed up her face as she decided how to answer.
    “He was a big jackass,” Annette supplied, causing Kade to swallow a snort.
    “That’s a bit harsh, Annette,” Kathy chided. “She’s not wrong, though. He was a complete and total jerk.”
    “Do you want to be more specific?” I asked, curious despite myself.
    “Well, let’s see,” Annette said. “How can I put this delicately?” She glanced at Kathy for support.
    “Frank fancied himself a ladies man, but the ladies thought he had more in common with the creepy guy on the corner who scratches himself in public when he thinks no one is looking,” Kathy supplied.
    Unfortunately, I knew exactly what kind of guy she meant. When you live and work with the circus you see all types. A lot of those types like to feel themselves up in public. What? I don’t do it. I can’t explain why people want to do it. “So … would you say he was aggressive when it came to women?”
    “Is that what they’re saying?” Kade asked, wrinkling his nose. “I thought that’s what they were getting at but I wasn’t sure and didn’t want them calling me a jerk, too, if I admitted I didn’t understand.”
    “It’s a good thing you’re handsome,” Annette said, shaking her head but winking to let Kade know she was teasing him. “Frank wasn’t a rapist or anything, if that’s what you’re getting at. He also didn’t understand about personal boundaries.”
    “Meaning?” Kade prodded.
    “Meaning he was the type who would whistle at a woman as she crossed the street – maybe toss in a sexually suggestive comment – but not grab her butt if given the chance,” I offered. “Am I close?”
    “Actually, he had no problem squeezing a butt or two,” Annette replied. “He’d apologized afterward and claim it was a mistake.”
    “Oh, nice,” Kade said, rolling his eyes. “So you’re saying this Frank guy was a serial groper? I guess we know why he ended up in the cornfield without his hands.”
    That was an interesting observation. “It sounds like everyone knew what kind of guy Frank was,” I said.