Ariel didn’t look as though she could comprehend all she was hearing. “You wouldn’t have believed me if I’d told you about Greg.”
Sara was sitting on the woman, who was bucking and trying to reach Sara with her hands and nails. “Are you going to stand there and watch or could you possibly help me? I need something to tie her up with.”
Hanging in the corner was a long rope of red and purple with a big tassel on the end. Ariel snatched it down, and with it came about two yards of braid. As Ariel tied the woman’s hands behind her, she said, “Did you know there’s a camera up there?”
“This whole tent is supposed to be set up with surveillance cameras, but no one seems to be watching them. Tell me what you know about Mike.”
“He’s here on a case, isn’t he? Colin told me—”
“I don’t want to hear what your big-mouthed brother blabbed. What happened to Mike?”
“He finished showing off with Anna and—Did you see him lift that kid over his head? She went stiff as a board and Mike—”
Mrs. Myers was bucking hard under Sara. “I’ve been too busy catching murderers to see my own husband do anything!” Sara said in frustration.
Ariel halted in tying. “Husband? If he’s here on a case, did he marry you to protect you from Anders?”
“Get that look off your face! Mike is mine, and I’m keeping him.” Under her, Mrs. Myers had gone dead still.
“I think you’ve killed her,” Ariel said.
“No, she’s just upset that I didn’t marry her son. Aren’t you, Mitzi?”
The woman on the ground made some unpleasant sounds through the muffling of the cloth in her mouth.
“We have to get her out of here without anyone seeing her.” Sara was pulling the pillow out from under her robe. There was no more need for the disguise.
“I’ll go get Colin and—”
“No!” Sara said. “You can’t tell anyone. Your brother will want to put her in jail.”
“Of course he will. What else should be done with her?”
“If Mike isn’t here, then it means he’s been taken. His life could be in danger, and I’m going to trade this horrible old woman for him.”
Mitzi Vandlo turned her head to look up at Sara.
“Oh,” Ariel said, her eyebrows raised high.
“Yeah, oh. Go out there and tell that girl that Mrs. Myers has been taken ill and I have to help her to … I don’t know. Make something up. Then go out the back and tell Mr. Lang to come in here, and—”
“Brewster Lang? I thought you were afraid of him.”
“I don’t want to know how you know that. Get him in here and tell him he has to be a fortune-teller.”
“Brewster Lang tell fortunes? Are you crazy?”
“Ariel, this is no time for your negativity.”
For a moment Ariel just looked at Sara sitting on top of the old woman. Sara’s veil was hanging by one edge, and with the bright colors of the costume, she didn’t look like the sweet, never-did-anything-wrong girl that Ariel had disliked all her life.
“Okay,” Ariel said at last, and she took only half a minute to tell the high school girl in the front that there would be a delay. It took her just two minutes to find Mr. Lang, and when they came in, Ariel had her hand firmly on his shoulder.
Mr. Lang stopped trying to twist away from Ariel’s tight grip when he was confronted with the extraordinary sight of Sara sitting on top of old Mrs. Myers. His small eyes lit up, and his tiny grin appeared. For the first time, he looked at Sara with respect and he tapped his nose. He’d seen the woman in the photo Mike had shown him.
“Yes, I think she had about four inches of it cut off,” Sara said, and at that comment Mitzi tried to throw back her leg so her heel would hit Sara. But she wasn’t fast enough for Mr. Lang as he kicked out and struck the woman’s ankle. Sara heard her groan. “Help me get her up. I’m going to put this costume on her and cover her mouth with the veil.”
“Someone has to tell me what’s going on,” Ariel said.