“So, I should probably explain my method here. Otherwise, I can hardly go pointing fingers, now, can I? I asked everyone the same three questions, asking for two truths and one falsehood. This was to get your baselines. Most everybody has a tell when they lie. Therefore, if you were telling me two truths and one lie, the odd reaction out is the lie – the tell. You,” he began, and pointed to Luan, “are typical. You look to the left when you lie. You’re a very reliable liar. You look to the left every time. This transparency indicates that you’re probably quite an honest person. However, you’re also nervous under interrogation, which made you slightly more difficult to read when I asked the final two questions.” Jay paused and took a breath, while I felt like I was holding mine. “Luckily for you, though, you aren’t the one I’m looking for today. You can go to the back with the others.” Luan seemed beside himself with relief as he ran a hand down his face and walked to the back. Lola immediately pulled him into her arms when he reached her and gave him a long hug.
This time Jay brought his attention to Julie. “Now you, my dear, are an interesting one. When you lie, you show almost no tell at all. But I have an eye for detail, and I did notice that you press your lips together ever so slightly when you’re telling a fib. It’s practically imperceptible, but what can I say? I have a talent for this.”
“For crying out loud, will you just get to the point already,” Julie complained, arms folded in a defensive posture.
“You’re not the attacker,” Jay answered her curtly. “Go to the back.”
Julie shot Jay a sharp look that was all, I told you so, then strutted her way over to stand with the rest of us. I locked eyes with Matilda, and she gave me a tiny smile before whispering, “He’s scary good at this, isn’t he?”
I nodded, then only realised Marina was standing behind us when she added, “Your husband has a flair for the dramatic. I wonder if I could tempt him to come and join the circus.”
Matilda smiled at her, shrugged, then returned her attention to the stage, as did I. King and Aiden were the only two men left standing, and a feeling of dread claimed my belly as I remembered Aiden’s behaviour with Bea earlier this morning. He’d been rough and abrupt, and he clearly hadn’t been taking proper care of his little girl. But did that make him a killer? Certainly not.
And then there was King. Such a mystery. Such an enigma. I’d heard so much about what a success he’d been once upon a time. Surely, to be so successful and then end up a homeless drunk meant something really bad must have happened to him. Or maybe he was the one who did the bad thing. Maybe he was the killer. I hated to admit that in an odd way I’d grown fond of King, and I didn’t want it to be him. At same time, I didn’t want it to be Aiden, either, because that would mean Bea would be left without a parent.
God, this was awful. Jay’s attention rested on King for a moment before moving to Aiden, then went back to King.
“Your tell, Mr King, is that you don’t have one. In fact, you really don’t care at all if I know whether you’re lying or telling the truth. Perhaps you’ve lied about far worse things than murder and rape in the past. But then, what’s worse than that? No, I think you’re an example of apathetic nihilism at its finest, and I would love to know the reason as to why. I’m still not even sure if you misled me at all on those first three questions. And this is where the rub lies, because if you don’t have a tell, I can’t determine whether or not you’re lying.”
Jay went silent, eyes flicking back and forth between the two men as he stopped pacing and stood in front of them, feet shoulder width apart and arms folded.
“Fortunately for you,” Jay said while pointing a finger at King before swiping it to Aiden. “Aiden here has quite a spectacular tell. It’s like a big, angry, throbbing vein that pulses in the forehead when a person is angry. Yes, when Aiden lies, he moves his jaw and his left eyebrow shoots right up to heaven. Quite frankly, it’s glorious.” Jay gestured wildly with his hands. “A mentalist’s wet dream, because I barely have to look at you to know you’re lying. You are as transparently deceptive as Luan is transparently honest. And when I asked if you attacked Julie, what happened?”
Aiden was breathing furiously, his eyes narrowed to slits as he adopted the posture of a man being branded with a guilty stamp. Emotion clutched at me, not because I cared about the man, but because I cared about Bea, and I had no idea what was going to happen to her now.
“You worked your jaw and raised your eyebrow,” Jay finished.
Aiden stomped forward and pushed at Jay, almost knocking him over. “You’ve got it wrong! You don’t know anything!”
“I know that you did it,” said Jay confidently, dusting himself off. He didn’t appear at all ruffled that Aiden had hit him. And when Aiden looked like he was about to flee, several stocky men who worked as labourers for the circus came forward and blocked his path. He had nowhere to run. “I also know,” Jay began, pronouncing his words loudly and steadily so that everybody could hear, “that you didn’t act alone.” Now there were several shocked and surprised gasps from the crowd. I moved closer into the warmth of Jack’s body, spooked. No one else in the world made me feel safe the way he did. And what did Jay mean, Aiden hadn’t acted alone? It wasn’t long before I found out.
“Well, at least you didn’t plan the act alone. I don’t mean to insult you, but you don’t possess the intelligence, the flair, to cover up a killing, Aiden. Yes, you have the strength and indeed the fucked-up psychology to do it physically, but you don’t have the shrewd mental acumen for a cover-up.”
A hush came over the gathering, and a chill ran down my spine. I caught movement to my left and saw Julie hurrying through the crowd. In an instant, I recognised that she was trying to slip away before anyone saw. A moment later, Jay began walking towards us, calling out, “Oh, Miss Young, can I have a word?”
It was almost like a spotlight had landed on her, because she stopped dead in her tracks, and all forty-five pairs of eyes went to the beautiful red-headed gymnast. “What do you want?” she hissed, low and furious as she stared at the floor, refusing to meet Jay’s gaze. Jay walked through the gathering, and people parted to let him by. A moment later, he was right in front of Julie. He reached out and caught her chin, tilting it up to make her look at him. She reeled away from his touch, her hatred clear as day in her bright blue eyes.
“When I told you that you’re not the attacker, it was the truth. However, when I told you that you have a tell, I lied. In fact, you have two. You purse your lips when you’re telling an outright lie, but you touch your index finger to your thumb when you’re being deceptive. And when I asked you if you were the attacker, every time your body shouted your deceit. You were involved in Aiden’s crime from the start.”
“I wasn’t,” Julie hissed, but there was a waver in her voice, a solitary tear running down her face as she looked to those around her for support. She found none. Not even from her sisters, who looked positively broken at what they were hearing. “He’s lying! You all have to believe me. We don’t even know this guy. He could be anyone.”
“Oh, please,” Lola cut in as she moved through the crowd, hand in hand with Luan. “Jay Fields is fucking famous. We all know exactly who he is. He’s won awards, for Chrissakes. Now, what I want to know is how the hell you’re involved in all this.” Anger slowly seeped into her voice as she pointed to Aiden. “That man almost raped me, Julie, and I want to know what exactly you had to do with it.”
“I had absolutely nothing to do with it,” Julie replied vehemently. “This thing about tells is all bullshit. The guy is trying to fuck with our heads. Aiden is the guilty one, plain and simple. Other than almost becoming one of his victims, this has nothing to do with me.”
“You lying little tramp,” Aiden fumed, lunging forward as three or four men held him in place. “She’s been blackmailing me for years! Ever since she caught me burying Vera’s body, she’s been holding me hostage, forcing me to do her bidding or else she’d go to the poli
ce. I went to Lola’s room that night because Julie told me to. Lola had slighted her in front of everyone, and Julie wanted payback. And since you’ve all been hating her ever since she attacked Lille, she made me rough her up so that you’d all see her as a victim and not the cold bitch that she really is.”
“Shut the hell up, Aiden. Nobody believes you,” Julie spat at him. Her face was red with fury, her hands balled into fists. Her sister Molly let out a pained cry before Mary took her into her arms. They were both shattered at what they were hearing and obviously had no clue what their sister was capable of. I couldn’t say the same myself. Ever since the night I heard her say those cruel things to King in the gazebo, I knew her pretty face masked a rotten core. And then after she attacked me with her own two hands, I was pretty certain she was mad.
I’d been so wrapped up in watching everything unfold that I forgot Jack standing behind me. His hold on my shoulders had tightened further, almost to the point of pain. I twisted around and glanced up at him, taking in his agonised, contorted features. It was difficult for him to hear all this, I could tell. He’d been with Julie sexually with no clue of her true nature.
“Hey,” I whispered. “Stop that. There was no way you could’ve known.”
“I should have, though,” he ground out. “I should have sensed something.”
Julie had begun yelling and screaming like a crazy woman, proclaiming her innocence, but there didn’t seem to be a single person present who believed her. She’d done too much to prove that she was capable of bad things, and now it was all coming back to haunt her. I’d like to say I felt vindicated, but I didn’t. Yes, I was angry that she very well could have killed me when she hit me over the head that time, but mostly I just felt sad that any of this had happened in the first place.
A man and two women held in her in place as Marina pulled out her phone to call the police. Jack led me over to a chair to sit, rubbing my back soothingly even though he was the one who needed soothing. I just wanted to take him back to the camper and lie on his bed and hold him. Talk for hours. Make love. Try to forget the bad things both Aiden and Julie had done.
It wasn’t long before the police arrived, and Italian police were quite impressive to see, all kitted out in their uniforms, weapons strapped to their bodies. Aiden and Julie were handcuffed and led away, and when Bea came looking for her dad, Winnie took her back to her camper for the night. Nobody knew what was going to happen to the little girl, and my heart hurt for her.
Slowly, the gathering started to disperse. There was an air of relief around the circus to know it was all over, but at the same time an air of melancholy. I stood with Matilda and Jack as Jay approached us. He didn’t look smug or self-satisfied that he’d caught the culprits; he just seemed relaxed, happy that he’d been able to help. He approached Matilda and planted a kiss on the top of her head before murmuring something in her ear. Then he turned and made his way to the corner of the tent where King was sitting and called, “Now, Mr King, just like the song, I believe I owe you a supply of cigarettes and alcohol.”
King perked up at his words as Jay threw his arm around the man’s shoulder, not once batting an eyelid at his dirty, unkempt appearance, and led him out of the tent.
It wasn’t until the following day that we heard news of Aiden and Julie. Since all three crimes had been committed in different geographic locations, the Italian police were working in conjunction with both the French and British authorities. Lola had always been adamant she didn’t want the police involved, but it was all out of her hands now. Besides, it looked like she’d be safe from her husband now that she had Luan by her side. Every time I saw them together it was clear that he was smitten.
Aiden’s camper was searched top to bottom, but only one piece of evidence was found. There was an old blouse with blood on it tucked behind a ceiling panel, and Marina identified it as belonging to Vera. They still needed to test the blood and match the DNA, but all signs were pointing towards Aiden going to prison for a long time. It made me shiver right down to my toes to think of him keeping the blouse as some kind of trophy.
And then there was Julie. Aiden was clearly feeling spiteful and didn’t want to go down alone, because he gave testimony that Julie had known about his crimes all along, had even incited some of them. It was suspected that there were more cases than those that took place in the circus, not least of which was the fact that Bea’s mother had disappeared years ago and was never seen again. Lots of people were now beginning to think that she was another of Aiden’s victims.
And then there was Bea, poor, sweet, lovely little Bea. Nobody was quite sure what was going to happen to her yet, but Winnie and Antonio had taken her under their wing for now. I even overheard the couple quietly discussing the possibility of adopting her. It warmed my heart and I hoped that they would, because they were good people and Bea deserved to have parents who wanted to look after her.
I was feeling pretty drained myself, and spent most of the morning in bed with Jack. So much had happened, and we talked a lot about Jay and Matilda, and how having them in our lives was going to change things for the better. Jay had already invited both of us to come and stay in Vegas for the month when the circus took a break at the end of the season. Needless to say, my excitement was hitting extreme levels at the very idea.
After lunch, Jack went to help the men take down the tent before we moved on the next day. I situated myself outside his camper, my easel set up and a painting in front of me that was almost complete. It was the picture of Jack on stage, and I was using a number of different shades of orange and yellow to get the flames that surrounded him to look just right. I planned on giving it to him soon as a present, since he’d asked if he could have it previously.
“You look…sweaty,” Jack said, breaking me out of my trance. I’d been so concentrated on the painting that I hadn’t noticed him approach. He stood in front of me, so he couldn’t see the painting, which was good because I wanted it to be a surprise.
Self-consciously, I wiped the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand, at the same time feeling a tendril of arousal spike through me at his words. I happened to know that he quite liked me sweaty.
“Stay exactly where you are,” I warned him. “Don’t come any closer. I’m trying to finish my painting of you, and I want to give it to you as a present when it’s done.”
He raised a quizzical brow and brought a bottle of water to his mouth, knocking back a gulp. I might have been sweaty, but he was, too. In fact, the way his well-worn grey T-shirt stuck to his torso was a little mesmerising.
“Why does that mean I can’t see it?”
“Because I want it to be a surprise.”
The look in his eye right then told me he thought I was being nutty, but he rolled with it. “Okay. Well, I suppose I should give you a gift, too, if you’re giving me one.”
I grinned at this. “Yes, you should. And it should be something you’ve made yourself, the same as my painting.”
He seemed stumped at this. “Like what?”
“That’s not for me to decide. You need to think of something.”
He went silent for a long moment. I stroked my paintbrush over the final patch of orange, and my heart filled. I was done. The painting was finished. I wanted it to dry first before I gave it to him, though. He was still watching me, and when he saw he had my attention, he crooked his finger at me.
“Come here,” he said, voice low, eyes fixed on the sweat dripping down my neck. I hadn’t checked the temperatures today, but I knew it felt a good deal hotter than usual. Why else would I be perspiring like mad? And since any kind of heat was such a big turn-on for Jack, I could practically sense his arousal like a physical thing.
Swallowing, I rose from my seat and walked to him. He caught my wrist in his hand and pulled me in close, then tilted my neck before capturing my mouth with his. I swear, I wanted to make a moulding of his tongue someday and set it on my mantel, because it was a thing of pure beauty. I lov
ed how it licked at me, all silky and wet. I loved the taste of him. It was my favourite taste of all. His passion grew along with his breathing, and before I knew it, he was crowding me inside the camper, herding me like a predator intent on his prey.
He slammed the door shut. Then he twirled me around and pressed me chest first into the wall, his thick, hard cock grinding against my backside. His hands moved swiftly while his breaths filled my ears, and before I knew it, my skirt was shoved up, my knickers were down, and he was pulling himself out of his pants. Seconds later he was inside me, and I gasped in shock at how quickly and deeply he managed to fill me.
His mouth went to my neck, licking and sucking as his hips thrust in and out, hard and fast. I loved how rough he was, loved how he couldn’t even wait long enough to get me into his bed, he had to take me right here in the lounge, standing up against the wall. Anybody could have walked by and seen us, but right then neither of us cared. In that moment, all we knew were our bodies, all we felt was our mutual pleasure.
He fisted my hair, yanking down on it and twisting my neck so I’d turn to him. He captured my mouth again, giving me his tongue a second time, the motion a mirror to his fucking. I felt invaded, possessed, and as we both raced toward orgasm, I broke the kiss to gasp a fervent declaration.
“I love you, Jack McCabe. I love you so much.”
He smiled, and for a moment I was dazzled by his handsome expression, so full of affection, as he continued to hold my hair like a rein and move his hips in a steady rhythm. “I love you too, flower. Only you. Always.”
When I collapsed against the wall, shivering as I came, Jack followed, and I felt him fill me until he was spent. He picked me up in his arms and carried to his bedroom, our bedroom, where I discovered the fun was not over yet. And man, did Jack McCabe like to play.