Read Dry Spell: A Mercy Watts Short for Free Online Page A

independence. Sometimes not so much. I leaned back and closed my eyes. My hand touched something wedged between the cushions. My hand jerked away and my heart rate shot up again, but it was only a tattered box with telltale teeth marks and a short note from Pete saying he loved me. Pete had taken to leaving me little gifts when he used my apartment. This time it was caramels from Bissinger’s Chocolatier. It’s amazing how chocolate settles the stomach. I ate two caramels before I called Uncle Morty and mustered my best ‘I’m fine’ voice.
    “Hi, it’s me.”
    “Yeah. What?” His keyboard keys clicked busily in the background and the sound made me want to vomit all over again.
    “She's near ducks and water.”
    He made a flappy noise with his lips. “You sound like a psychic. Everybody is always near water.”
    “There’s a lot of people and music, too.”
    “I call that a wasted trip.”
    “Uh huh.”
    “You alright? You sound funny.”
    “I don’t feel funny. I feel like crap.” The keys stopped clicking.
    “What else?”
    “Nothing,” I said.
    “Don’t make me call Carolina. She’ll be on you like a duck on a June bug.”
    I nibbled another caramel. “I’m not sure what happened. I might be coming down with something.”
    “No, you ain’t. Spill it.” A pencil began tapping with loud grinding taps.  
    “I walked out of Janine’s room and this horrible change in the air happened. Everything was thick and distorted. It was like having a really high fever, like I was delirious.”
    “And?”
    “I heard something, music. Different kinds, but under it all was the sound of a carnival. Just when I heard it clearly, it all stopped.”
    “You been watching too many X-files reruns.”
    “You should talk.”
    “Yeah, yeah. Tell me what we got?”
    I yawned. The fear was seeping away and I began to feel ridiculous. Like that really happened. “I think we’ve got a little girl buried next to a lake with a carnival nearby.”
    “Quiet.” The clicking began again with a furious pace.  
    I curled up and dragged an afghan over my legs. “How long is this minute going to be?”
    “Shut it. Every freaking county in the state has a fair.”
    “Great,” I groaned. “Which state, Kentucky or Missouri?”
    “Missouri. I doubt the brown man picked Janine at random. He wants that girl to be found. I’ve got three possibilities. Augusta, Poplar Bluff, and St. Sebastian. You been to these podunk towns?”
    “St. Sebastian. I was looking for Claire’s so-called husband.”  
    “Which one?”  
    “The grifter.”  
    Claire was my dad’s secretary. She had terrible taste in men. If I ever decided to get married, I’d ask Claire for her opinion. If she liked him, I’d run the other way. She didn’t much like Pete because of his schedule, so he was safe.  
    Uncle Morty’s keys stopped clicking. “You got connections there.”  
    “Not really,” I said.  
    “You can’t be going alone. There’s some crazy dudes in those small towns.”
    “You want to go?”
    “I ain’t going nowhere. I got shit to do.”
    “That’s what I thought. I’ll let you know what turns up.”
    I hung up and Skanky came yawning out of my bedroom.  
    “You ready to listen to me now?” I asked my feline.  
    He stuck his hind leg in the air and began an intense rear cleaning.  
    I guess not.  

I slept a heavy, dreamless sleep that night with the help of Ambien and a purring Skanky. I don’t usually take that stuff, but Janet Lee Fine was a nightmare waiting to happen. I awoke to the smell of peppers and onions. Yawning, I followed Skanky into the kitchen to find Aaron in my kitchen putting dough in a tortilla press.  
    “How’d you get in here?” I asked.  
    He squashed the dough and then flipped the disk onto a sizzling hot skillet.
    “Aaron?” I asked.  
    “Pete?”  
    “Where’d you see him?”  
    “Kronos.”  
    Cooking was clearly getting in the way of conversation, not that Aaron