When hostile townsfolk imprison a transient teen girl accused of murder, her best friend struggles against a stacked legal system to protect her from being railroaded.---
Local law enforcers eager to solve the case rush to judgment and arrest Cozbi...
I couldn't fault the fire company for canceling the carnival. The last thing a sponsor wanted was bad publicity and gangs of lookie loos coming around to gawk at the spot where a murder had occurred.
After the coroner removed Marlin Cleveland's corpse, a sheriff's deputy strung yellow POLICE LINE DO NOT CROSS tape around the area where the body had been found.
With nothing else to do, I drained the High and Dry tank and applied a permanent fix. My heart wasn't in it. I wanted to see Cozbi and decided to ask her to eat dinner with me as soon as Cookie raised the flag, the signal to all us carnies to come and get it. Most of my fellow carnies milled around the grounds, dazed, engaging in conversations, and speculating as to what could have happened.
While waiting, I sat on the steps of my trailer, thinking about Cozbi.
Amy Adams who ran the Balloon Blast game came and sat beside me. Her red, swollen eyes signaled she had been crying. Amy was the oldest member of our troupe, a silver-haired matriarch in her sixties. We called her Mom because she always took care of us.
"What's wrong, Mom?"
She sniffled. "The sheriff just took Cozbi away in handcuffs."
I jumped to my feet. "What?"
"I saw it happen, Jace. They think she killed Marlin Cleveland."
It felt as if a brick had landed in my gut.
Amy choked and said, "How could our little carnie princess do such a thing?"
"You answered your own question. She couldn't have."
Amy didn't argue. She just shook her head.
Mosley Jensen, operator of the High and Dry must have recovered from his stomach flu. He came striding toward us. I figured he wanted to know for sure if I had fixed the leak.
He removed his ball cap and pulled a rag from his back pocket, wiped perspiration from his face and bald head. He fingered the brim of his cap and wouldn't look us in the eye as he spoke. "Hey uh, the boss asked me to spread the word. He wants to meet with everyone in the food tent in twenty minutes."
All twenty-two remaining carnies in our troupe crowded into the tent. Luckily, it was nearly dark, so the heat of the day was subsiding. Electric fans scattered around the perimeter provided some relief. We were normally a talkative bunch, but nobody seemed in the mood to say much or to even make eye contact.
Mr. Green entered the tent, his hair disheveled, looking like he hadn't slept well. He stood in our midst, stoop shouldered. After a long sigh, he said, "There's little I can tell you about what happened that you don't already know. The cops are keeping a tight lid on things. I did overhear from a deputy how one set of fingerprints was found on the murder weapon, the tent stake. He didn't say, but I'm assuming it was Cozbi's. It's as close to a smoking gun as they're going to get."
His words started a buzz of murmuring.
Beside me, Mom Adams shook her head and mumbled, "I just don't understand."
Raising my hand, I called out, "Is it true Marlin Cleveland had been bothering her?"
The murmuring stopped. Everyone looked my way.
"What do you mean, Jace?" Mr. Green asked.
"I mean what you think I mean. The way a lecherous fifty-year-old man might bother a pretty, eighteen-year-old girl."
Donnie Strahan, our camp cook, glared at me. "Be careful what you say, Jason. The man's dead and can't defend himself against your accusation. Don't you go dragging his good name through the mud."
I shot back. "Look, the sheriff implied something might have been going on between Marlin and Cozbi. If that's true, then maybe it was self-defense." Except I still couldn't believe Cozbi did it. I couldn't come up with any likely scenario. She was a physically fit girl but weighed maybe a hundred twenty pounds compared to Marlin Cleveland who was a big, muscular man. If it wasn't her, I came to a chilling conclusion. "I believe one of us standing under this tent killed Mr. Cleveland."
"Now you're accusing one of us?" Strahan snarled.
"Enough!" Mr. Green shouted. "It's the job of law enforcement to sort this out. It's not up to us to speculate and spread idle gossip."
I wasn't ready to let it drop. "Why would the sheriff let it slip about Mr. Cleveland harassing Cozbi? He interviewed everyone here. Do any of you know anything? Say something so we can make sense of this."
After a few seconds of silence, Mr. Green cleared his throat. "Jace, we're family here. All of us are sick about what's happening. We all want to see Marlin's killer caught, so if anyone is aware of anything, I'm sure they told the cops."
Did we stick together like family? It appeared to me as if our family wasn't concerned about defending Cozbi, and she was the youngest and most vulnerable among us. I made a snap decision to reveal what she told me earlier in the day. "When we found Marlin Cleveland's body, Cozbi acted distressed, worried that people would think she did it. She told me she had threatened him in front of witnesses." I looked around. "What witnesses? Who among you heard her threaten him?"
Nobody spoke up.
I raised my voice. "You're kidding me! What are you people hiding?"
Mr. Green cut in. "Take it easy. Are you sure that's what she said?"
"I heard her say it."
He made eye contact with everyone in the troupe. "Does anyone here know about this?"
You could've heard a pin drop.
The boss looked my way. "I don't think so, Jace, but let's suppose it's true she threatened him. Maybe it would be best if law enforcement doesn't find out about it. Could be the so-called witnesses want to protect Cozbi by staying quiet."
It was an angle I hadn't considered.
Before anyone else could comment, Greenie continued, "I'm afraid I have more bad news."
What could be worse?
He ran a hand through his hair. "As you are all aware, we've been operating on razor thin margins. It's been harder each year keeping this business afloat. We aren't making any money this week. Word has spread. I received calls today from three of our upcoming dates, all of them cancelling us."
Ma Adams gasped. "That's not fair!"
"I agree, it's not," Mr. Green said, "but the sad truth is I'm facing bankruptcy. I regret to tell you, as of now, we're out of business."
As those words sank in, I deflated. What the hell was I supposed to do now? Looking around at my fellow carnies, I could read from their expressions all of them wondered the same.
Carnie life was all we knew. Since we weren't allowed to leave the area, we couldn't even look for work elsewhere. We were stuck, prisoners like Cozbi.
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Do you believe someone with the carnival might be hiding something?
