Two Can Keep a Secret(12)
Ezra leans over my shoulder and lowers his voice. “Where did Lacey die?”
I point to a tiny picture of a Ferris wheel. “Under there. Well, that’s where they found her body, anyway. Police thought she was probably meeting someone. Echo Ridge kids used to sneak into the park after hours all the time, I guess. It didn’t have any security cameras back then.” We both glance up at the nearest building, where a red light blinks from one corner. “Does now, obviously.”
“Do you want to start there?” Ezra asks.
My throat gets dry. A group of masked kids dressed in black swoop past us, one of them knocking into my shoulder so hard that I stumble. “Maybe we should check out the games,” I say, refolding the map. It was a lot easier to take ghoulish pleasure at visiting a crime scene before I met the victim’s family.
We walk past snack stands and carnival games, pausing to watch a boy our age sink enough baskets in a row to win a stuffed black cat for his girlfriend. The next station has the kind of shooting gallery game where two players each try to knock over twelve targets in a box. A guy wearing a ratty hunting jacket who looks like he’s forty or so pumps his fist in the air and lets out a loud guffaw. “Beat ya!” he says, punching the shoulder of the kid next to him. The man stumbles a little with the movement, and the boy recoils and backs away.
“Maybe you should give someone else a turn.” The girl behind the counter is about my age and pretty, with a long brown ponytail that she winds anxiously around her fingers.
The man in the hunting jacket waves the toy gun he’s holding. “Plenty of room next to me. Anybody can play if they’re not too chicken.” His voice is loud and he’s slurring his words.
The girl crosses her arms, as if she’s steeling herself to sound tough. “There are lots of other games you could play.”
“You’re just mad ’cause nobody can beat me. Tell you what, if any of these losers can knock down more than me I’ll bow out. Who wants to try?” He turns toward the small crowd gathering around the stand, revealing a lean, scruffy face.
Ezra nudges me. “How can you resist?” he asks under his breath.
I hesitate, waiting to see if someone older or bigger might help out, but when nobody does I step forward. “I will.” I meet the girl’s eyes, which are hazel, heavily mascaraed, and shadowed with dark circles. She looks like she hasn’t slept in a week.
The guy blinks at me a few times, then bends at the waist in an exaggerated bow. The movement almost topples him, but he rights himself. “Well, hello, madam. Challenge accepted. I’ll even pay for you.” He fishes two crumpled dollars out of his pocket and hands them to the girl. She takes them gingerly and drops them into a box in front of her as if they were on fire. “Never let it be said that Vance Puckett isn’t a gentleman.”
“Vance Puckett?” I burst out before I can stop myself. This is Sadie’s ex? The “gorgeous” one? Either her standards were a lot lower in Echo Ridge, or he peaked in high school.
His bloodshot eyes narrow, but without a spark of recognition. Not surprising; with my hair pulled back, there’s nothing Sadie-like about me. “Do I know you?”
“Ah. No. It’s just … that’s a good name,” I say limply.
The ponytailed girl presses a button to reset the targets. I move to the second station as Vance raises the gun and sets his sights. “Champions first,” he says loudly, and starts firing off shots in quick succession. Even though he’s clearly drunk, he manages to knock over ten of the twelve targets. He raises the gun when he’s finished and kisses the barrel, causing the girl to grimace. “Still got it,” Vance says, making a sweeping gesture toward me. “Your move, milady.”
I raise the gun in front of me. I happen to possess what Ezra calls freakishly good aim, despite having zero athletic talent in any other capacity. My hands are slick with sweat as I close one eye. Don’t overthink it, I remind myself. Just point and shoot.
I press the trigger and miss the first target, but not by much. Vance snickers beside me. I adjust my aim, and hit the second. The crowd behind me starts murmuring when I’ve lowered the rest of the targets in the top row, and by the time I’ve hit nine they’re clapping. The applause spikes at number ten, and turns into whoops and cheers when I knock over the last one and finish with eleven down. Ezra raises both arms in the air like I just scored a touchdown.
Vance stares at me, slack-jawed. “You’re a goddamn ringer.”
“Move along, Vance,” someone calls. “There’s a new sheriff in town.” The crowd laughs, and Vance scowls. For a few beats I think he won’t budge. Then he flings his gun on the counter with a snort.
“Game’s fixed, anyway,” he mutters, stepping back and shoving his way through the crowd.
The girl turns toward me with a tired but grateful smile. “Thanks. He’s been here for almost half an hour, freaking everyone out. I thought he was going to start firing into the crowd any minute now. They’re only pellets, but still.” She reaches under the counter and pulls out a Handi Wipe, swiping it thoroughly across Vance’s gun. “I owe you one. Do you guys want free wristbands to the House of Horrors?”
I almost say yes, but pull out my and Ezra’s job applications instead. “Actually, would you mind putting a good word in for us with your boss? Or whoever does the hiring around here?”