Free 3 Coming Unraveled by Marjorie Sorrell Rockwell Page B

“It’s like a disguise,” he said.
    “Is that why Mr. Sprinkles never takes off his greasepaint?” she asked with childlike innocence.
    That gave Freddie pause. Come to think of it, he’d never seen Sprinkles the Clown without his “face” on. Why was that?
    “Sprinkles is like a Method Actor,” he made up an explanation. “He likes to stay in character.”
    “Oh,” she said, not really understanding the answer.
    ≈≈≈
    That night when Freddie got home, he knocked on his parents’ bedroom door. “Mom, are you asleep?” he called.
    Maddy appeared at the door. “What is it? Has there been an accident?”
    “No, no,” the disfigured man assured his mother. “I just wanted to talk with you about something.”
    “You’re al l right?”
    “Yes, of course.”
    “What do you want to tell me?” She stepped into the hallway so as not to wake Beau. She tightened the belt on her old blue bathrobe.
    Freddie hesitated. “I’m not sure it means anything, but I’ve been thinking about the Lost Boys.”
    “And –?” His mother brushed her hair back, fingers combing through the blondish locks with little effect. It still looked like she’d stuck her finger in a light socket.
    “Remember I told you about tha t little circus that was camping out at Ben Bentley’s farm?”
    “Yes, it’ s all Aggie could talk about for days.”
    “Well, Ben Bentley told me that when they heard about the Quilters Club finding all that money, the clown said it was his money.”
    “Oh? That’s a strange thing to say.”
    “ There’s more. He never takes off his makeup, like he’s hiding his face. Just like Jimmy Stewart in ‘The Greatest Show on Earth’.”
    “What made you think of that old movie?”
    “Aggie and I watched it tonight.”
    “Go to bed,” sighed his mother. “You’re just letting your imagination run away from you. Next you’ll be seeing monsters in your closet like when you were five.”
    “Mom, Sprinkles the Clown fits into this somehow. Maybe he’s really Bobby Ray Purdue.”
    “Go to bed,” repeated his mother.
    ≈≈≈
    Around 3 a.m. Maddy Madison came awake. She’d been having vivid dreams, something about the Phantom of the Opera swinging on a gigantic chandelier. When he reached up to remove his mask, she expected to see her son’s scarred countenance underneath – but it morphed into a monstrous clown’s face. She woke up with a start.
    Maddy glanced around the darkened room, disoriented. She recalled the late-night conversation she’d had with Freddie, realizing that had been the basis for her nightmare.
    Maybe she shouldn’t have dismissed Freddie’s comments about that clown. Could he have been Bobby Ray Purdue? After all, hadn’t the boys run off to join the circus? Had he recently been here in Caruthers Corners, right under their very noses?
    No, surely not.
    She rolled over and tried to sleep.
     
     

 
    Chapter Twenty-Two
     
    “No,” said Chief Purdue, “I’m not going to try to extradite that clown from Illinois. There’s not a shred of evidence that he has anything to do with this mess … other than your overactive imagination.”
    “Not just mine,” Maddy pointed out. “Freddie’s too.”
    “Runs in the family.”
    “Okay, I guess we’ll never know the full story of the Lost Boys,” sighed his best friend’s wife.
    “Madelyn Agnes Madison, I’ve known you since grade school. You’re not going to wheedle me into doing this. Judge Cramer would laugh me out of his office if I asked him to sign an extradition warrant for a clown who calls himself Sprinkles.”
    “Your loss.”
    “No, I’m confident Harry Periwinkle or Jud Watson will ’fess up. The state’s attorney has offered to lessen the charges if they tell all. They’d be crazy not to take the deal.”
    “I think they were crazy to try to pull off this cockamamie impersonation in the first place,” said Maddy as she huffed out of the police department into the warm August