Calamity at the Carnival

Spring is in the air. Flowers are blooming, birds are singing, Jackson's kisses keep coming, and despite the occasional moodiness of her ghostly housemate, Sunni is looking forward to the season.

It's spring break in Firefly Junction and the Stockton Traveling Carnival has come to town. Sunni finds herself saddled with an uninspiring story assignment. But in between the mix of sugary carnival treats, scream-inducing rides and timeless arcade games, someone murders Madame Cherise, the fortune teller, and Sunni's assignment takes a wild turn.

Book 5 of the Firefly Junction Cozy Mystery series

It was one of those halfway slumbers. I was aware of my surroundings but my eyelids were heavy and my head was in a drowsy fog. The tickle on my nose was all too real.

With a heavy hand, I swiped at my face without opening my eyes. The tickle returned, only more insistent and annoying. I crinkled my nose and waved my hand at my face again. The tickle persisted. My eyes popped open and I sat up straight from my slump on the couch. The pillow I'd been clutching, like my old teddy bear friend, Chub-chub, fell to the floor.

Edward, my housemate, if one could call a two century old ghost a housemate, was hovering in front of me. The only part of the vision that was solid and not transparent was the feather in his long, white fingers.

I rubbed my nose again, not because of the tickle but to brush away the idea that a dirty feather had been so close to my mouth. "Were you touching me with that? Yuck."

Edward lifted the feather and scrutinized it with his bold blue eyes. They were incredibly expressive for a pair of dead eyes. "Not a yuck. A pigeon, I think. It was sitting on the porch."

"That's what I figured, which is why I said yuck. It's not a bird species, it's another word for disgusting. You don't know where that feather has been," I said, recycling one of my mom's favorite warnings.

Edward waved the feather. "My best guess is that it's been sitting in a pigeon's rear end."

"My point exactly. Besides, I was awake. I was just resting my eyes."

"Then you snore while you're awake." He floated across to the window of the sitting parlor and stared outside. "It's still early in the day, but you're falling asleep because you stayed out too late with that unkempt man and his wild hair."

"It's not wild, it's thick," I countered. I stood from the couch and pounded the hug marks out of the pillow I'd been clutching.

"Thick," he scoffed. "My hair is thick, and you don't see me floating around as if I've been walking through a windstorm."

"That's because your hair is permanently tied back in a blue ribbon. And before you even suggest it, that same blue ribbon would definitely not work today. Let's just say, the men's hair ribbon fad fizzled out a few years back."

I could tell by the fading in and out of his features, something that happened when his ghostly emotions were running high, that we were not finished with the discussion.
Edward tossed the feather into the hearth. The sitting parlor was one of the first rooms to be completely restored. It had a carved marble mantle that I loved and that gave the room terrific character. Edward's dislike of my original color choice, Cupid Pink, was what had prodded him to reveal his existence to me. It was a day I will never, ever forget.

"He keeps you out far too long. It's not right," Edward harrumphed in his posh accent.

I stopped to pick up the three tennis balls Newman had left in the room. "I'm perfectly safe with Jackson. As I've told you many times—he's a detective."

Edward laughed dryly. "That's supposed to ease my mind?" he asked. "In my day, I knew constables who were even more dissolute than the criminals they chased."

I decided not to respond. Edward's memory was still anchored firmly to the early nineteenth century. I'd learned it was futile and a waste of energy to try and change his opinion about the ways of the world.

My dog, suddenly alerted that someone was moving his precious tennis balls, came bounding into the room. I tossed the three balls out into the hallway, and he skittered after them.

"You have no chaperone," Edward continued. "If I could leave this—this prison—I'd go along on your outings to make sure he doesn't take advantage of you."

We'd had the same argument so often, it normally just amused me, but this morning, his words tugged at my chest. I smiled and walked toward him. His face came more into focus. Incorporeal or not, the man presented a dashing image.

"I'm perfectly safe with Jackson, but thank you for worrying, Edward."

His face dipped so I couldn't see his expression clearly. "You're welcome," he said quietly.

I turned to leave.

"After all, someone has to. It's obvious your own judgment is clouded when it comes to this man."

I threw up my arms. "There you go obliterating our moment."

"What moment?" He floated after me as I left the room.

"You and I were having a heartfelt moment back there, but instead of leaving it at 'you're welcome', you had to keep blathering on."

"I don't blather. I just reason things out. By the way, you should probably look at that silly metal tablet you're always staring at. It's been buzzing like an angry hive of bees ever since you fell—fell awake on the couch," he quipped.

Instinctively, I patted the pocket on my sweatshirt, but there was no phone. "I must have left it in the kitchen."

I hurried down the hallway. My phone was sitting on the table next to my half empty coffee cup. Jackson and I had gone out to a movie and dinner. Then I'd made the mistake of reading a book until two in the morning. I got up early but felt so tired, I decided to take a quick nap. According to the clock on the wall, that quick nap had lasted a good hour and a half.

I grabbed my phone and flicked my thumb across the screen. There were four voice mails. I quickly pressed the star key to listen to them.

Edward was at the window. "I think your sister is in pain. She has a contorted look on her face."

I tossed the phone back on the table and raced to the window. Lana was trudging toward the house with her right arm wrapped in a bag of frozen peas. "She must have hurt herself." My heart pounded as I raced to the entry.

Lana was just climbing the front steps as I swung open the door. "What happened?" I asked.

Lana shook her head. Her face was pale. Even her lips looked white. "Just darn bad luck. I was on a stepladder trying to pull down a box of lights, and my foot slipped off. How come you didn't answer your phone?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't hear it." I helped her inside. "Did you hurt your arm?" I asked, motioning toward the bag of frozen peas.

"I think so." She winced and held her breath as she lifted the makeshift ice pack. Her slim wrist was red from the icy bag. It definitely looked different than normal. She held both arms out for comparison. "I guess the S shape at the wrist is not supposed to be there."

I felt the color from my face drain as I stared down at her warped arm. "I don't think we need an x-ray machine to diagnose that as a broken wrist. You poor thing, it must hurt badly."

"Surprisingly, I can't feel too much, even my fingers are numb. But I don't think that's from the peas."

"I'll get my coat and keys so I can drive you to the clinic." I rushed down the hallway and past a concerned looking ghost to the kitchen. "Do you need something?" I called to my sister. "Aspirin or a cup of water?"

"No, thanks." Lana was at the kitchen entrance. "Let's not tell Emi and Nick. They only just left for their romantic stay at the bed and breakfast. If we tell them, they'll probably turn right around."

"I agree." I tapped the side of my head. "That's right. You and I are taking care of the animals."

Lana lifted up one side of her lip. "I might still be able to toss a bit of scratch out for the chickens."

I pulled on my coat. "Nonsense. You're going to need to rest. I'll take care of the farm."

She stood there with the same apologetic grin. "And how do you feel about filling a hundred goodie bags for a sweet sixteen party?"

"I forgot you had a big party next weekend." Lana's event planning business had taken off like a rocket, and it seemed she was always swamped with work. A broken wrist, especially a right wrist, was going to set her back. The last thing she needed was to fret about the business. "Don't worry, Raine and I will make sure everything gets finished."

We headed to the door.

"How are you going to take care of the farm, help out my business and work on the newspaper, all at the same time?" she asked with perfectly reasonable skepticism.

"I'll take vitamins and drink a lot of coffee." The late spring morning had started out with a few clouds, but the sky had cleared to a bright blue. I held my hand under her elbow to help her down the steps.

"Sunni, I broke my wrist, not my hip. I can walk on my own."

"Guess you're lucky it was only your wrist. I know I've said this to the point of irritation, but you need to hire more help. Your business is blooming, but you're still trying to do it all on your own and Raine can only help out when she's not busy with her own business."

"I know, and yes, it has been to the point of irritation. But you're right." We stopped at my jeep. Lana stared at the step to climb up into the passenger seat. It wasn't going to be an easy task with one arm. "You need a much lower car for emergency runs to the doctor."

I helped her into the jeep and buckled her seatbelt. "Let's just hope this emergency run thing doesn't become a habit."