Page 15 of Her Cruel Dahlias
She slowly lifted her head, her eyes meeting his brown ones. He was dressed in his finest as always. A white button-up collared shirt with a black jacket and matching trousers, his chestnut hair hidden mostly below the bowler hat.
“What are you doing here?” she stammered.
“You never came back to say you were leaving,” Bram said, his brow furrowed as though he were hurt.
“I know,” Cricket whispered. Their past stormed through her, but her heart didn’t beat for him as it used to. Perhaps it never had in the way it was meant to. Regardless, as of now, it only beat for herself. “I decided to join the carnival.”
“I wish you would’ve at least told Anika. She’s been worried sick. Especially now…” A vein ticked along his square jaw. “I need to discuss something with you in private. It’s about what’s been happening in Nobel.”
Cricket nodded. “Walk with me to my caravan.” She knew precisely what he wanted to discuss. The murders. He wouldn’t know whether or not she’d heard about them yet, but worry shone in his gaze. Since he was here and she hadn’t ventured into town yet, there were questions she needed to ask too.
Neither spoke as she led him toward the caravans, even when they passed several performers who watched them with curiosity. Yes, I once was outgoing enough to be courted and taken to bed. Now stop looking, she wanted to shout.
Words continued to remain trapped inside Cricket and Bram’s mouths, the silence uncomfortable to the point she wanted to shatter it. She ached to slice a knife through the quiet to see if it would scream or bleed. She’d never felt this way around him before, and even though only a month had truly passed for her, over a year had gone by for everyone else.
Cricket unlocked the door to her caravan and motioned him inside. “Sorry, the space is small, and I have nothing to offer you besides whiskey.” She lifted the flask from her vanity and took a swig. “Sit wherever you like.”
“It’s fine.” He held up a hand, not bothering to take a seat as if the act would be too intimate.
Cricket sank down in the vanity chair and drank another sip, letting the strong burn of alcohol soothe her. “I’ve already been informed about the murders, but since you’re here, I do have questions.” She hated how stiff she sounded and how rigid her shoulders were.
“So you know then?” he said, running a hand along his jaw.
“That there are mutilated bodies decorated in dahlias? Yes, I know those details. Is it Clancy? Just because his body was dug up doesn’t mean it wasn’t replaced or that a necromancer didn’t bring him back.” Her voice came out harsh, but if she spoke any other way, she would break down, and she didn’t want to cry in front of Bram. Not again.
“It’s not Clancy,” Bram said, his voice assured. “I verified the body was his. Same chipped front tooth and another missing near the back. His hair was still there too. It’s someone else doing this.”
“Who then? Who would imitate how he killed me, and why?” she whispered, concern filling her.
“That’s what we’re trying to find out. But that isn’t all.” He paused, taking a breath. “All three victims are young and blonde. Did you hear that part? That their eyes are blue too, like yours.”
Cricket frowned. “I didn’t know that. But almost half the people in Nobel have blond hair and blue eyes. It isn’t as if it’s up north where it’s less common.”
“It could be a coincidence, but I don’t think so. After you died, I never gave up searching for the killer, and with Anika’s help, we caught Clancy. I’ll find this one too,” he vowed.
Cricket leaned back in the chair, thinking. “This didn’t start until after I came back to town. Do you think it has something to do with that? That I’m still alive?” She fought the memories swarming through her—the choking, the blade, the dahlias.
“It’s a possibility. A high one.” He sighed, his voice concerned like the authority he was. “Carefully and without drawing any attention to yourself, let me know if you see or hear anything out of the ordinary. As much as I don’t want to involve you, I may require your help.”
Her? She couldn’t even solve a riddle, much less a crime. But she could let him know if she spotted something suspicious. “I’ll watch the visitors closely and do the same during performances. What about flower shops? Have you checked all of them? I know midnight black dahlias are rare, but maybe they were purchased there, and the shopkeeper could remember who bought them.” That was how Clancy was discovered, but then he’d tried to leave the city before Bram and Anika found him.
“No luck with any of the flower shops. There’s another thing, though. This isn’t going to be pretty to say, Cricket, and I don’t want to dredge up more pain for you. But each of these murders is worse than what Clancy did to you. Their rib cages were torn open, and dahlias were placed inside. Always one over the heart.”
Nausea bubbled up Cricket’s throat, the taste of acid on her tongue. Anger boiled within her veins as she thought about what kind of wicked person would do something so sickening. She pushed up from the chair and stood in front of him. “I’ll do anything necessary, Bram.”
“Thank you.” He nodded and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her close. “I’m glad you’re safe. I’m sorry for everything.”
Tears pricked her eyes as she hugged him back, inhaling the comforting leathery smell he always carried with him.
Blowing out a breath, he took a step back. “How about you come over for tea tomorrow after you wake, and we can thoroughly review the details? Anika would love to see you.”
Even though she couldn’t think about drinking or eating anything after hearing about the victims, she would go to find out more. Besides that, she should see Anika. Her mind turned toward the past, wondering if she hadn’t been murdered, where would she have been now? Would she still have been with Bram? The one married to him? Or would she have decided to live out her dream and find somewhere to perform, away from Nobel? “Of course, I’ll be there. Why didn’t Anika come tonight?”
He pursed his lips as if this was an answer he didn’t want to give. “She’s … not feeling well.”
“Is everything all right?” Her chest tightened at the thought of Anika suffering or having something worse, like a fatal illness.
“She’s with child and has been quite nauseous as of late,” he said softly.