Join the Flub (The Worst Detective Ever Book 4) Page 2

  “You ready for this?” Rutherford frowned. “And please remove that blue eyeshadow.”

  The eyeshadow! Gulp. I’d forgotten about it.

  “It’s worse than awful. In fact, it’s hurting my eyes.” He squinted as if I was blinding him.

  Maybe he should be an actor. He was pretty good with dramatics.

  Using my fingers, I wiped at it. I’d need to disappear into my trailer to fix it before I went onstage.

  “The police chief wants me to check out something out front. Are you good?” Jackson asked, leaning close.

  I nodded. “This area is very secure. I should be fine. Besides, I have . . . Zane?”

  Where had he gone? I finally spotted him talking to one of the crew members.

  “I’ll be fine,” I said anyway.

  Jackson looked at me one more minute before leaving—somewhat reluctantly.

  “Everything should be good to go,” Rutherford said. “No one is going to forget this opening.”

  “I hope not.”

  “Alright, Carli is waiting to talk to you.” He glanced at his watch. “We only have ten minutes until this shindig starts. Don’t forget the eyeshadow.”

  “I won’t,” I called.

  I rolled my eyes as I left him and made my way toward Carli, who was already harnessed up and waiting behind the screen. She’d climb some scaffolding and make her descent, busting through the fake movie screen.

  My character in Family Secrets had done the same thing, and that scene was now a fan favorite. It was already being illegally recorded and plastered online everywhere. That was why I just knew people were going to love it.

  “Joey!” Carli called, giving me a hug. “I can’t wait for this.”

  “Me neither.” I ran my eyes up and down. “Nice outfit.”

  Her romper looked just like mine. Her hair had been fixed just like mine. She even had the same shoes on. Not the same eyeshadow, however.

  “We’re twinsies!” She squealed like a Valley girl, though she was far from fitting that description. In fact, her parents were carnies, and she’d been an acrobat for a traveling show as a child.

  “Thanks again for coming out here,” I said.

  “It’s my pleasure. I’ve always wanted to come to the Outer Banks. Tim and I are going to make a mini vacay out of it. Got a house on the beach even.”

  “We’ll have to get together before you leave then.”

  “I’d love to! We have to catch up. Especially since the start of my trip has been so horrible.”

  “Horrible? Why?” She had me curious now.

  She glanced over my shoulder. “Rutherford is motioning that it’s time for me to get in place. We’ll have to talk later. Until then, we’ve got this, Joey.”

  I nodded, unsure why I felt nervous when she was the one in the harness.

  “We’ve got this!” I echoed.

  Carefully remaining out of sight, I watched as Carli climbed up on a platform and took her place. She gave me a thumbs-up, and I returned the gesture. Then I took some deep breaths. Stretched. Did the whole anxiety-reducing acts of pretending the audience was naked—which never worked. It only made me blush.

  “Joey, get in place,” Rutherford said. “It’s about to begin.”

  I hadn’t fixed my eyeshadow. I let out a sigh. I was going to have to live with it. Pretend it was on purpose. On trend. That I was making a statement.

  “Got it.” I walked to the side of the stage area and peered out from behind one of the curtains.

  I spotted Dizzy and her friends, wearing their custom-made shirts. I spotted Jackson at the base of the stage, wearing his tux but looking like security. He always looked like security, and I secretly loved that. I wished my friend Phoebe could be here, but she’d taken a last-minute trip to Colorado to see one of her childhood friends.

  Mayor Allen—a short man with a bald head and a lisp—walked onstage and introduced everyone to the event. The crowds cheered. My heart raced with healthy anticipation.

  Right on cue, the fog machine started, and smoke filled the stage area.

  Action-packed theme music began playing.

  On the count of three, Carli jumped from the platform, hanging on a rope. She burst through the fake movie screen.

  As she did, the crowds roared.

  I rushed onto the stage, staying low so the fog would conceal me.

  Carli would land. Disengage her harness. Then I’d take her place and wave to the crowd. It would be an entrance people would never forget.

  Easy peasy, right? Showmanship at its finest. We’d be making people feel like they were getting their money’s worth by coming here and supporting this charity.

  As I rushed toward the designated spot, I tripped on . . . something.

  I waved the fog out of my way, trying to see what had been left on the stage area.

  But what I saw stopped me cold.

  It was Carli. She was lying in a broken heap on the stage floor.

  Chapter Two

  I knelt beside Carli, trying to comprehend the situation. The crowds were cheering too loudly, the fog was too thick, and the moment seemed too surreal.

  But this was real, and I had to do something. Every moment counted right now.

  “Help!” I yelled, hoping someone would hear me over the music and noise.

  People scrambled nearby, so someone must have heard something. I prayed they’d get here soon. Hadn’t there been some paramedics stationed somewhere close?

  I started to touch Carli, to reach for her, but I stopped myself. I didn’t want to hurt her more. Her bones and body were twisted. Unnatural. Painful looking.

  “Carli,” I whispered. How had this happened?

  At her name, her eyelids fluttered.

  She was still alive. Alive!

  A new surge of hope rushed through me.

  I leaned closer. “Are you okay?”

  “My harness . . .” she whispered, her voice scratchy and strained. Her eyes looked dazed and slightly vacant. “The line . . . it . . . it was . . . cut.”

  As the fog began clearing, I glanced down at the ropes that had been around her midsection, and gasped. Sure enough, one of them had broken. But the ends weren’t frayed. The cut looked clean. Purposeful.

  My blood went ice cold.

  “I can’t . . . feel . . . my legs,” Carli muttered.

  My stomach dropped. No, no, no . . . But I could tell from the position in which she’d landed that this was bad. Really bad.

  “What happened?” Jackson appeared beside me. His eyes widened when he spotted Carli. “Oh, dear Lord.”

  I knew he’d muttered it as a prayer. A gut-wrenching one at that.

  He pulled out his phone, no doubt calling for more help.

  Rutherford joined us, followed by Mayor Allen, Zane, and Carli’s husband, Tim.

  The curtains had been closed across the stage area to block the public from witnessing any more of the scene. I could already hear the murmur from the crowds though. They knew something was wrong. I prayed they hadn’t seen too much.

  This moment—Carli—shouldn’t be exploited like this.

  Everything was a blur around me.

  Jackson knelt in front of Carli, talking to her, keeping her lucid.

  Zane slipped an arm around my waist, probably in case I passed out.

  Rutherford got on his phone, undoubtedly trying to get a head start on the PR of a disaster like this.

  I still couldn’t believe this had happened. I slapped my hand over my mouth, trying to look away but unable to do so.

  Paramedics arrived quickly and huddled around her, stretcher in place.

  Someone had stepped onto the other side of the curtain to give an update and ask everyone to remain calm.

  “Zane, get Joey out of here,” Jackson barked. “Don’t take your eyes off her.”

  Don’t take his eyes off me? What did that mean? It almost sounded like Jackson thought I was in danger also.

  That was ridiculous
. This was all a terrible accident.

  Except Carli’s harness had been cut.

  My blood went even colder than the actors on the set of Dr. Zhivago.

  “But—” I started.

  “We’ll talk later,” Jackson said.

  Zane ushered me backstage. My head spun as I tried to process everything. But I couldn’t. Reality refused to set in. It was too big for me to comprehend right now.

  “What’s going on, Zane?” I asked, wishing he wasn’t walking so fast that everything was a blur around me.

  “I have no idea.” He didn’t stop walking until we were well out of sight from the crowds. Then he turned me to face him, and he looked just as confused as I was.

  Before I could ask more questions, Jackson appeared. He wasn’t walking all casual-like. No, he was on a mission, and each of his steps was urgent.

  “We need to get you out of here,” he said, taking my arm.

  The concern on his face startled me on an entirely different level.

  “Why? What’s going on?” I asked.

  “I’ll explain later.”

  I dug my heels in, not liking this. “No, I need to know. Now.”

  “Joey . . .”

  “I should stay here,” I said, trying to compute the implications of this. “I need to explain to people what happened—”

  “Someone just called in a bomb threat,” Jackson said. “This whole festival park needs to be evacuated.”

  Everything around me stopped, and I felt as if I was in an alternate universe for a minute.

  “A bomb threat?” I repeated.

  Jackson nodded. “That’s why we need to get you out of here.”

  I crossed my arms. “I’m not leaving.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “I’m not being ridiculous. I’m not leaving. People are here because of me. They need to be cleared out first.”

  “Joey . . .”

  “I’m serious, Jackson. If I get out of here in one piece and someone else suffers, I’ll never forgive myself. Besides, I’m no more important than anyone else here. I’ll be okay.”

  He stared at me another moment, and I could see his wheels turning. Finally, he nodded.

  “Go stay in the trailer until we clear the area. Understand?”

  I nodded. “Got it.”

  Zane led me to the RV parked at the back of the property. I sat on the stiff brown couch inside, my head still spinning. Zane sat across from me, and it appeared his head was spinning also.

  Neither of us said anything for a minute, but I could hear the rumble of vehicles outside. The evacuation was in progress. I only prayed it was in time. Or that the threat had been an empty one.

  An empty threat would be annoying, frustrating, maddening—but better than someone getting hurt.

  “I wonder how Carli is,” I finally said, picturing her mangled body.

  “She talked to you, right? That’s a good sign.” He seemed all laid back and surfer-like, but in a past life he’d been in sports medicine. Maybe he knew more than I often remembered to give him credit for.

  “Zane, she said her harness line had been cut.”

  His eyes widened. “You mean, like, on purpose?”

  I nodded. “That’s exactly what I mean.”

  “Why would someone do that?”

  “Why would someone make a bomb threat?” I leaned back into the couch again, wishing my head would stop spinning. But it didn’t.

  “This is all craziness.” He rubbed his forehead. “Do you think it ties in with your super-stalker fan club?”

  I released a sigh at the mention of that group. “I can’t imagine they would take it this far. This isn’t their MO.”

  “You’re right. They like to taunt you, not ruin you.”

  My mind ran through everything that had happened since I arrived here at the park. There were so few people who were allowed backstage access. Each one’s name was on a list, and a security guard was stationed at the entrance. There was a temporary fence up around that area even.

  “Did you see anything, Zane?” I asked.

  His eyes popped up to meet mine. “What do you mean?”

  “You were talking to that member of the stage crew.”

  “Gerrard?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know his name. But did you see anyone up in the scaffolding? Anyone acting suspicious?”

  He shook his head. “No. But honestly, I wasn’t looking either. I can talk to Gerrard. He’s a part of the light crew, and he caught one of the most epic waves I’ve ever seen last year while we were down in Hatteras.”

  “We need to focus, Zane.”

  His face went back to serious in 5.2. “Of course.”

  “What do you see out there?” I asked.

  Shoving the curtain aside, he peered out the window. “Everyone appears to be orderly. That’s really all I can tell.”

  “Poor Carli . . .” She was all I could think about.

  Her body . . . it looked bad. What if she could never do stunts again? What if she could never walk again, for that matter?

  I squeezed my eyes shut.

  When I opened them again, Zane was sitting beside me. His hands went to my shoulders, and he gently worked my muscles.

  “It’s going to be okay,” he muttered.

  I normally tried to refuse his massages—because massages led to other things. Kissing-like things. Things I needed to stay far away from.

  But I didn’t turn him down this time. No, my muscles needed some relief. And his warm hands felt so good against my skin.

  I peeked my eyes open and drew in a deep, calming breath.

  And that was when I saw it.

  I raised a finger like ET phoning home.

  But I wasn’t phoning home.

  I was pointing to a backpack. One I’d never seen before. One that wasn’t supposed to be in this trailer.

  And one that had a red blinking light shining through the canvas.

  Chapter Three

  My muscles tensed faster than those cars in The Fast and the Furious.

  “We’ve got to get out of here,” I muttered.

  “Uh . . . yeah. I’d say so.” Zane’s eyes were fixated on the bag, and he appeared frozen.

  I tried to swallow but second-guessed that movement also. “We should move carefully. Very carefully.”

  “Also agree.”

  I felt as stiff as a board as I stood. Zane followed my lead, and together we scooted around the bag, shuffling our feet. I remained intensely aware of every time the trailer swayed at my steps. The exit was only three feet away. I could do this. I just couldn’t make any unexpected moves.

  I was almost in the clear.

  Until the door flew open.

  I screamed. And I jumped. And then I froze, staring at the backpack and waiting for an explosion.

  “What in the world are you doing, Joey?” Jackson stood in the door. He’d abandoned his bow tie and his jacket in favor of rolling up the white sleeves of his shirt.

  And he looked good.

  If only I had time to admire just how good. But I didn’t.

  I pointed at the bag, breathless with anticipation. “That.”

  I held my breath, hoping my sudden movement hadn’t set anything off. It wasn’t too late. At any time, an explosion could rip through the air and decide my very undecided future for me.

  Jackson’s eyes zeroed in on the ratty green book bag with the red light peeking through. “This was supposed to be a secure area,” he muttered, an edge of contempt in his voice. “You two, get out of here. Now.”

  I had a feeling that meant Jackson was staying, and I was about to argue.

  Before I could, Jackson grabbed me and flung me out of the trailer so fast that my feet could barely keep up. Zane followed behind me, no flinging involved.

  But not Jackson, as expected. Sure, he’d stepped out, but he was already on his phone. Police cars, which had been stationed at the stage area, were already speeding this way.
Another crew with barking dogs ran across the grass. Bomb-sniffing dogs, no doubt.

  Zane and I darted away from the RV, not stopping until we reached the festival area. Lawn chairs had been left behind. Programs blew with the breeze. Food trucks had been abandoned.

  I wondered if there were any fish tacos inside those trucks . . .

  Focus, Joey. Focus.

  I stared at the torn screen, a sad reminder of how things had gone wrong. A lone seagull cried overhead, and the air felt unusually heavy.

  As I remembered the bomb, my heart slammed into my rib cage, and I could hardly get enough breath to fill my lungs. I’d been sitting . . . by a bomb.

  And I’d had no clue.

  My gaze was fixed in the distance. On Jackson. The sunset smeared behind him in a pink-and-orange blur. The scene created a deceitfully peaceful backdrop to the urgent events of the evening.

  What if that bomb exploded while Jackson was standing there? We’d never even talked about our kiss. And that kiss deserved to be talked about. Discussed. Dissected. Possibly repeated.

  In a year or so, of course.

  Zane’s arm slipped around me, and he rubbed my bicep, glancing over his shoulder. “Everyone’s gone and safe. That’s the good news.”

  “That is good.” Except . . . Carli wasn’t safe.

  I couldn’t pull my thoughts from her. I pictured what she was probably going through right now. Diagnoses. Surgery. Averted plans.

  Tears pressed at my eyes.

  This was all horrible. So horrible.

  And tonight was supposed to be so much fun.

  And what about all the money we were supposed to be raising for the children’s wing? What would happen to that? It could have done so much good.

  I watched. I waited. I even prayed.

  Finally, Jackson strode back over toward me and Zane.

  “It’s been diffused,” he announced, his gaze flickering from me to Zane and back to me again.