Danger at the Fair (13 page)

THE
Great Sybil was nearly to the first-aid office when she heard the voice inside her mind. “Help,” it said. “Ellen needs help.”

The Great Sybil stopped, feeling the gooseflesh rise on her arms, just as it used to do when she received her messages.

It had been so long, so terribly long, since she’d had a genuine message, that she was almost afraid to believe it was true.

Yet, she recognized the feeling instantly—the intuitive certain knowledge that what she was experiencing was a message from the spirits. The sensation was never there when she pretended to communicate. For all the years that she had postured and faked and bluffed, she had never once had this feeling of truth.

A thrill of gratitude ran through The Great Sybil. Her talent
was back. She turned around immediately and raced toward The River of Fear.

THE MAN
pushed Ellen again, until her back was tight against the railing that surrounded the platform. Holding her arms against the railing, he kicked at her ankles, trying to knock her feet out from under her.

Ellen bent her head sideways and bit the man on the wrist, sinking her teeth in as far as she could. He gave a surprised cry of pain but did not let go of her.

As he kicked again at her ankles, Ellen raised her leg and aimed her knee at the man’s groin.

He was too fast for her. He swore and jumped back, so that her knee barely touched his thigh. In doing so, he let go of Ellen’s arms. She dodged his outstretched hand long enough to look at the line of boats which had now emerged at the end of the ride. They were empty.

The man’s eyes followed her gaze and then, instead of grabbing for Ellen again, he stood and stared at the empty boats. Looking surprised, he pushed the lever to Off. This time, Ellen didn’t try to stop him. She could see into all of the boats; Corey was not there.

“Are you satisfied now?” the man said. “I told you your brother was not on this ride. Now you can see for yourself. All the boats are here and there’s no kid in any of them.” He sounded relieved.

Ellen backed away from him, toward the steps. “You tried to kill me,” she whispered.

“What?” The man laughed, as if that was the most outrageous statement ever made. “All I did was try to keep you
from pulling the lever that operates the ride when I was still working on the switch. You could have been electrocuted.”

Ellen watched him warily, fearful that he would grab her again but the man acted as if their struggle had never happened. “You tried to push me over the side,” she said.

“Your imagination is working overtime, girlie,” he replied. “First you claim your brother is trapped on my ride and then you think I’m trying to kill you. You’d better quit watching so much TV and get yourself a real life.”

Ellen glared at him. It was not, she knew, her imagination. The man had tried to push her over the edge of the platform, though she had no proof, no witnesses. The question was, why? Corey was
not
in one of the boats, as she had thought. The man apparently had nothing to hide, so it did not make sense for him to try to get rid of her.

Unless, she thought, he was just as surprised as Ellen when the boats were empty. Maybe he wanted Ellen gone because he didn’t want her to be there when Corey came riding out in one of the boats. When Corey didn’t come, the man no longer cared if Ellen saw the boats emerge.

The possibilities swished around in Ellen’s mind like clothes in a washing machine but it was hard to think logically when she stood within six feet of someone who had just tried to kill her.

The man’s change of attitude when he saw the empty boats could mean only one thing: he, too, had expected Corey to be in one of them. Since he wasn’t, it meant Corey was still inside the ride.

Go into the darkness
, the message said.
The smaller one sees not.

Ellen said, “I want to go in the Tunnel of Terror.”

“Sorry. The ride is closed until tomorrow.”

“I don’t want to go on the ride. I want to walk inside the tunnel. There must be a way to get in there, to fix anything that breaks.”

“You don’t give up easy, do you, girlie?”

Ellen backed away from him. She didn’t want to make him angry again. Despite his denials, Ellen knew he had tried to push her off the platform. It wouldn’t help Corey to have Ellen crumpled in a heap at the bottom of the platform while this creep pretended it was an accident.

“I’m going,” Ellen said. Without waiting for a response, she turned and began to run down the wooden steps. She had gone less than halfway down when she saw The Great Sybil step over the
CLOSED
sign and start up the steps toward Ellen.

“Are you all right?” Sybil called.

Two against one, thought Ellen. With Sybil to help me, I’ll get inside the tunnel.

“No! Corey’s somewhere in the tunnel and the man on the platform tried to push me off.”

Sybil stopped climbing as she listened.

“Hurry!” Ellen cried.

Ellen went back up the steps two at a time, with The Great Sybil on her heels. When they reached the top, they stopped. Ellen looked around, astonished.

The platform was empty.

“He must have gone in the tunnel himself,” Ellen said. “He’s gone after Corey.” Quickly, Ellen told her what had happened.

“I have not trusted Tucker Garrenger from the first day I met him,” The Great Sybil said. “When I look at Tucker, I see a black aura and I always sense feelings of guilt.”

“We need to go in the tunnel after him,” Ellen said. “He tried to push me off the platform; he might try to kill Corey, too.”

“We must get help,” The Great Sybil said. “This is not a task for us; we need the police. Hurry.” She rushed back down the steps.

Ellen hesitated, knowing it would be sensible to follow The Great Sybil and then return with police or guards. But how long would that take? Five minutes? Ten? Too long. She couldn’t leave Corey at the mercy of the evil Tucker all that time. She would go after Corey herself.

OPPOSITE
the platform, on the far side of the boats, a maintenance door led to a set of stairs on the back side of the ride. The painted face of the door was part of the huge picture of monsters that served as a sign for the ride.

Tucker stood behind the maintenance door, with the door slightly ajar. The girl was talking to The Great Sybil. Tucker frowned. How was the fortune-teller involved in this? Was she the girl’s friend?

The idea of someone being able to see into the future or talk with spirits gave Tucker the creeps. Now, as he saw Sybil hurry away while the girl stayed on the platform, those psychic abilities alarmed him.

What if the girl had told The Great Sybil how Tucker tried to push her off the platform? For all he knew, Sybil could see into the past, as well as the future. She was probably on her way to get the cops; maybe she would tell them that Tucker was wanted in Oklahoma.

He knew the girl was going to go inside the ride to find her brother and by the time she came out with him, Sybil would be back here with the cops.

I can’t stay at the fair, Tucker realized. The girl will accuse me of trying to push her off the platform and the boy will say Mitch and I threw him in the boat and I’ll never be able to explain my way out of it. They’ll run an ID check and I’ll be slapped in jail. I’ll have to leave with Mitch and Joan. They can drive me to Portland and I’ll find another job there.

Tucker ran down the steps on the back side of The River of Fear and headed toward the parking lot. He hated to leave without collecting his pay from the fair but he’d have his share of the profits from Joan and Mitch. That would be enough to get him by for a few days.

Tucker ran up and down the rows of cars in the parking lot, his panic increasing until he spotted the Mercedes. The motor was running; Mitch was waiting for a chance to pull into the line of cars leaving the fairgrounds.

Tucker ran to the car and pounded on the door. “I’m going with you,” he said. “We have to get out of here, fast.”

“What happened?” Mitch said, as he reached behind him and unlocked the back door.

“The kid’s big sister showed up and now she’s gone off with a fortune-teller to tell the cops about us.”

“Big sister?” Mitch said. “Fortune-teller?”

Tucker got in next to Alan and told them what had happened.

“You really botched it this time, Tucker,” Joan snapped. “Why didn’t you warn us that the boy was there? If you had done your job, none of this would have happened.”

“How could I warn you?” Tucker said. “You told me to watch for a kid with a Batman bandage on his face, wearing a T-shirt with elephants on it. That kid didn’t have either one.”

Joan sniffed. “You never got anything right in your life,” she said. She looked nervously around the parking lot, checking to be sure no one had followed Tucker.

“That boy can identify me,” Mitch said slowly. “You told him my name.” He sounded astonished, as if he could not believe his own words. He also sounded terrified.

“It will take them awhile to find the boy,” Tucker said. “We can still get away, if we hurry.”

“What do you mean, it will take awhile to find him?” Mitch said. “Isn’t he with his sister? I thought you said she came to get him.”

“She did but when the boats came out, they were empty. The little boy must have fallen out of the boat. No telling if he’s alive or not.”

“And the girl?”

“She went inside the ride to look for him.”

“If the girl is inside the ride, looking for her brother,” Mitch said, “maybe we can get to her before she talks to anyone.” He pulled into a parking space and turned off the engine.

“What are you suggesting?” Joan said.

“It would look like they both fell off during the ride,” Mitch said slowly. “A terrible accident.”

“Mitch!” Joan said. “You can’t kill those children just to avoid a pickpocket charge.”

“It isn’t the pickpocket charge he’s worried about,” Tucker said. “It’s the other.”

Joan’s eyes narrowed to thin slits. “What other?” she said.

“You talk too much, Tucker,” Mitch said.

“What other?” Joan repeated. “The charge against Tucker in Oklahoma?”

“Hurry,” Mitch said, as he got out of the car. “We have to keep those kids from going to the cops.”

“There are other ways to do that,” Joan said, “besides murder.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Mitch said coldly, “and if you had not insisted on working the fair, it wouldn’t be necessary.”

“Can I go with you?” Alan said.

“May I go with you?” corrected Joan. “No, you may not. You stay in the car and if anyone asks you where your parents are, you say we’re coming right back. Is that clear?” She opened the glove compartment and removed a flashlight.

Leaving Alan to pout on the back seat of the car, Joan and Mitch strode toward The River of Fear ride, with Joan insisting Mitch was making a mistake and Mitch ignoring her.

Tucker followed, glaring at their backs. Why didn’t they ask him what he thought? Mitch and Joan always made him feel like a bumbling six year old with no brain.

CHAPTER
13