I sit on the back of the ambulance getting the “Bella Special.” This checkup routine is nothing new. Is my head cracked? How many fingers do I see? Does anything need stitches?
When Officer Mark passes by with Alfredo in cuffs, I push the EMT out of the way and jump down. “Wait!” Ruthie follows close behind.
Mark stops. “You did it again.” His smile is reluctant. “I’m impressed, as usual, but mad that it had to go this far. You never stop, do you, Bella?”
I glance at Alfredo. “I didn’t really solve anything this time. Just got in the right people’s way, I guess.”
“I would have come back for you,” Alfredo says. “I would. But I had to save Cherry.”
“You were never worthy to watch my unicycle ballet,” Ruthie growls. “I should’ve shown you all the cool tricks I know with my switchblade collection.”
“I couldn’t figure you out.” I step closer to Alfredo. “One minute you were harmless and the next, I was being shackled in a burning trailer.”
“It all just went wrong. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt.”
“You were in cahoots with the man who killed your fiancée.”
Alfredo shakes his dark head. “I loved her. Sure, I was paid to date her at first—and keep her out of Red’s way. But I fell for Betty.
And I did this all for her. She wanted Cherry protected at all costs, and I promised her I’d take care of that. I—I just didn’t know how. I thought if I made Red believe we were working together, I could get close enough to get Cherry out of there. Take care of her.”
“Your parenting skills leave something to be desired,” Mark says.
“And then Red set you up for murder.” The weird, jagged pieces of the puzzle begin to ease into place.
“Took me awhile to catch on to that,” Alfredo says. “Red was telling me he had it under control and wouldn’t let me hang. When I figured he was double-crossing me, I came up with the escape plan and decided to pull one over him—and get Cherry.” Alfredo gives me that focused stare again. “You know how the dog’s connected, don’t you?”
I nod slowly. “Yes. I do.”
“Take care of Cherry for me.”
I glance to where she lies on a stretcher, surrounded by her new family and a detective. “She’ll be well taken care of. You can cross that off your worry list—and focus on surviving prison.”
Officer Mark laughs. “A guy who can do magic tricks? Oh, I have a feeling Alfredo here will be very popular with the fellas.” He pushes Alfredo forward, and the two walk toward a flashing car.
Luke returns to my side. “Are you ready to put some closure on this?”
“Am I ever.”
Hours later I stand next to the Ferris wheel with a small crowd of my family and friends, including Cherry, who insisted on being present, even with her broken arm and black eye.
“That’s the seat.” I point up to the third cart. A carnival worker pulls the lever, letting the wheel turn until the cart comes near.
“How did you know?” Cherry asks, pulling the safety bar open and stepping up.
“Peg’s tag. Her middle name is Aurora.”
“Who gives dogs middle names?” Ruthie asks.
“People who love their pets,” I say. “Or people who want to leave a clue about where something’s hidden. When I read the dog’s tag, I remembered you saying the Sleeping Beauty seat was your mom’s favorite on the ride.”
“And Aurora was Sleeping Beauty’s name in the story,” Luke adds. “Pretty smart thinking.”
I smile at his compliment. “Thanks.”
“Allow me.” Mickey steps in beside Cherry and tugs on the back of the seat until it gives. “Seems to be a panel here of some sort.”
Ruthie fishes in her top. “Need this?” She pulls out a screwdriver. “What? You’d be surprised how often that thing comes in handy.”
Mickey shoves the screwdriver under the small panel and pops it off. “What do we have here?” He sticks his hand in the back of the seat then pulls it back out. “It’s a key.”
I read the tag. “Number 308.” I look up at Mickey. “Lock box?”
“Only one way to find out.”
I peek at my watch. “It’s after ten.”
Ruthie takes a pin out of her ratted hairdo. “Say the word, and I’ll get us inside any bank in Truman.” She holds up a hand. “Security systems are still a little dicey for me, but doors? No problem.”
Mickey laughs and clasps the key tight. “I was thinking we’d just ask someone to let us in.”
My friend snorts. “Amateur.”
After an unsuccessful trip to Missouri Savings and Loan, we caravan to the only other bank in town.
“Looks like one of our lock box keys all right.” Joel Dean, the president of Truman National Bank, leads us into the vault. “This is a very unusual situation, and I’m not exactly following protocol here, but the records show Shelly and Junior Fritz do have a box paid through the rest of the year.”
Cherry does a half circle in the stuffy room. “It could be a letter from my mom, something special of Betty’s—anything.”
Ruthie comes alongside Cherry. “I want you to know if it’s money, I won’t ask for a cut. Even though I am now officially Bella’s partner, and since she solved this mystery, technically I did too.”
“We’ll both put our keys in the locks.” Mr. Dean motions for Cherry to join him. “There we go. Just slip in your key.”
I’m as nervous as a girl taking a pop quiz after a snow day. What could be in there that was worth killing for?
In the silent room, the click of the lock echoes off the walls. Mr.
Dean slides out the metal box and places it on a nearby table. “Be my guest.”
“Go ahead, sweetie,” Mickey says, his arm around Dolly.
With a trembling hand, Cherry lifts the lid and peers inside.
“It’s an envelope.”
Ruthie sighs. “Probably just a greeting card.” She leans close and whispers in my ear. “I hope it’s one of those singing ones. Those things are cool.”
Cherry peels the envelope open and pulls out a piece of paper.
Her eyes scan the document for what seems like an eternity. Finally, with wide eyes, she gasps and lets the paper fall to the ground.
Dolly swoops in to pick it up. “Well, if that don’t beat all. It’s a will. From Cherry’s parents, naming her as beneficiary of their estate, which is the Fritz Family Carnival.” She holds the paper to her chest. “You own the circus, Cherry.”
“That’s why Red wanted you gone,” I say. “He wanted to sell it and keep the money himself.”
“And make sure you weren’t around to contest it,” Luke adds.
“He thought he had the perfect plan. And Betty knew it was here. She must’ve created the map to throw him off the scent.”
Ruthie shakes her head in misery. “I can’t believe I donated my artistic talents to those slimebags.”
Mickey grabs the will and reads it over. “So I guess the sale of the carnival is null and void now, since Red wasn’t ever the rightful owner. Cherry, what do you want to do? It is your legacy.”
Cherry pulls out a chair at the small table. “I want a family, not a full-time job. It was important to my parents, but that’s when we were together. I just want to stay here with you and Dolly.”
“And Peg,” Ruthie pipes in. “Don’t forget the dog.”
“And to think.” My brain swells with the possibilities. “If Peg hadn’t have come back, we would never have known any of this.”
“Betty had a heart of gold.” Cherry smiles at the thought. “But she wasn’t especially creative.”
“I guess it worked out like God intended.” Dolly goes to her young cousin and wraps her arms around her. “He was in this the whole time.”
“Crazy as it sounds”—Cherry’s eyes find mine—“I do believe you’re right. Because suddenly everything that seemed so wrong . . . feels just right.”