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feet.
    There was no one in the curtained-off area where she saw clients. Divine eased across the floor, reached for the curtain, and tugged it to the side enough to peer through, but there was no one in the lounge and kitchenette area either. She wasn’t terribly surprised. The panel where she kept her motorcycle was off the bedroom. Letting her breath out slowly, she moved through the lounge, reached for the accordion door to the bedroom, but paused as a rustle sounded behind her. Before she could turn, pain exploded inside her head and then the lights went out.

 
    Four
    M arcus shifted sideways to avoid a group of the younger carnies on their way to the bunkhouses. They’d obviously been celebrating the end of the first day in a new town. Every last one seemed to be three sheets to the wind. It hadn’t been that long since closing, though, so they must have been hammering the drinks back. But then, it wasn’t like they had hours to relax. It had been midnight when they closed, and morning came early.
    With that last thought in mind, Marcus picked up speed as he headed for Divine’s RV. Not only had the woman not answered him when he’d got off the motorcycle and asked if she was going back to Madge’s, but she’d been in such a rush to get away from him, she’d left without taking back her helmet. Which was rather depressing when he thought of it, because while she appeared eager to escape his company, his feelings were the exact opposite. Marcus had enjoyed their outing to the restaurant, short as it had been. He’d enjoyed verbally sparring with her, but even more, he’d enjoyed the ride to the restaurant and back, having his hands on her, his chest pressing against her back. It had been an invigorating experience.
    “Hey, Marco!”
    Turning his head, he peered silently at the man approaching. As tall as he, and nearly as wide, Chapman was the owner of the Tilt-A-Whirl Marcus had helped set up on being hired that day, as well as the corn dog stand he’d then run for the rest of the day with Kevin. Technically, Chapman was his boss, although Bob Hoskins, the carnival owner, had actually done the hiring. Marcus had thought it a little strange that Hoskins would insist on doing the hiring for everyone, even the independent ride owners. At least he had until he’d read the man’s mind. It seemed a local they’d hired to work the carnival in one of the towns some three years back had turned out to like children a little too much. He’d lured a little girl away from the midway while her mother was distracted and had led her to the bunks on the back lot. It was usually abandoned during the day. Fortunately, that day a full-time carnie had slid back to his own bunk on his break to grab something and had spotted the man ushering the little girl into one of the bunks. He’d intervened.
    Unfortunately, he hadn’t got her back to the midway before the mother had noticed the girl missing and raised a fuss. The police had been called, and while it was a carnie who rescued the little girl and beat up the local temp in the process, the carnival had taken the heat. It made the headlines as “Carnival Worker Kidnaps Local Child” not “Local Hired as a Temp by the Carnival Kidnaps Local Child.”
    Apparently, attendance had dropped right off after that, and Bob Hoskins and his wife, Madge, had nearly gone broke before the business had slowly bounced back. It was then that Bob Hoskins had insisted that from now on he would take over all hiring. It was also shortly after that that Madame Divine had joined their troop and offered her help in vetting the people applying. She had apparently weeded out some bad full-time carnies on joining the show, warning Bob and Madge that this one was up to no good, or that one was stealing from then. But she’d also begun sitting in on all the interviews and Bob Hoskins made his decisions based on her opinion.
    At least she’d done so until that morning. According to Bob’s