Part 24 (1/2)

”I'm going to give your kid the worst name ever, Deuce Winters!” she yelled, shaking her head.

So I had some incentive to get to the hospital in time.

47.

”You like the flags?” Butch called over his shoulder. ”Told you it'd be good!”

My parents were near the judging platform when the chaos broke loose and my mother was already to the street by the time I realized I needed her. She a.s.sured me she had Carly and also a.s.sured me I would owe both her and my father an explanation when time allowed.

Butch and I were still snaking through the crowd on the street, the parade now at a complete standstill thanks to C.A.K.E.'s antics. I'd lost Susan while getting on the bike, but Butch said he had a bead on her and he was doing his darnedest to get us through the ma.s.ses without flattening anyone.

I clutched the seat because I couldn't bring myself to put my arms around Butch. ”Yeah! Awesome!”

He nodded and hit the throttle and we jerked forward into a small opening in the crowd. If anyone thought it was odd that we were trying to get through, they didn't show it. They were too caught up in the hosing down of the judges.

It took us several more minutes to get to the end of Main and I didn't see her anywhere. ”Where'd she go?”

”Toward the arena,” he said over his shoulder. ”I saw her turn into the grounds.”

I nodded. It was an odd choice if she was trying to hide. The fair was nearly empty-because everyone was at the parade-and she'd be easy to spot. But maybe her car was parked on the other side of the grounds in the main lot. Maybe she was trying to cut through the fairgrounds to get to her car.

Butch jumped the sidewalk and we hit the dirt path that led to the entrance. He turned the throttle again and we shot through the gates, dust clouds blossoming around us. I moved my hands from the seat to him, trading vanity and ego for safety.

We roared around the exhibit buildings, past the food stand, and toward the arena. The main gate to the arena was open and Butch punched the throttle again and we rocketed through the entrance into the ma.s.sive dirt arena.

The entire grandstand was empty, except for Susan, who was sitting in the first row. She didn't run when she saw us, but she did look confused.

Which didn't make any sense to me. Why had she tried to sneak away from the parade to go sit by herself in the stands?

Butch brought the bike to a halt near the steps to the grandstand, a final dust cloud swallowing us. I coughed and slid off the back.

”What's going on?” Susan demanded.

”Why are you running?” I asked, climbing over the railing to where she was sitting.

”Running? What are you talking about?”

”I saw you take off in the chaos at the parade,” I said. ”I didn't think you'd ever leave the 4-H float. You were running away after our conversation.”

”What are you talking about?”

”You killed George, didn't you?”

”I told you, I had an alibi.”

”But you didn't tell me what it is. So why are you running?”

Her face screwed up with agitation. ”I wasn't running! I didn't kill anyone!”

Her conviction weakened mine. ”But you left the parade.”

”Because he told me to meet him here!” she bellowed.

”Who did?”

She pointed over my shoulder. ”Butch!”

My stomach dropped and I turned around slowly.

Butch was resting against his motorcycle, aiming a gun at both of us.

48.

”Butch, what the h.e.l.l are you doing with a gun?” Susan asked.

”Taking care of loose ends,” he said, smiling.

”Loose ends? What?” She looked at me. ”What's he talking about?”

”I have no idea,” I admitted.

Butch just smiled.

”He called me fifteen minutes ago and told me to leave the parade,” Susan said. ”He told me to meet him here and that it was an emergency.”

”You two know one another?” I asked.

Susan's face flushed.

Butch grinned. ”Oh, yeah. We absolutely do.”

I was still in the dark.

”We, um, well,” Susan stammered. ”Butch and I . . .”

”I think the correct term is friends with benefits,” Butch said. ”We sleep together. Excuse me. We sleep together when she isn't pining for George.”

”I wasn't pining for George.”

Butch rolled his eyes, but kept the gun steady.

My stomach churned. ”How long were you seeing each other?”

”A few months,” Susan said. ”We've been sorta off and on for a few months.”