Ariel dropped her arm from around the woman. “I suggest that I go get a car and bring it here.”
“Great idea,” Sara said. They put Mitzi on the floor, then Ariel ran outside. Sara turned to Mr. Lang. “Did you destroy those traps like Mike told you to?” When his eyes shifted to one side, she knew that he hadn’t. “Not even one of them?” Mr. Lang looked down at his feet. “Good!” Sara said. “Now go in there and start telling fortunes.”
He seemed about to protest but didn’t. With a resigned look on his face, he went through to the front.
For several long minutes Sara stood over Mitzi and worried about all the things that could go wrong. What if Sara’s father returned and came to the tent? How would she explain what she was doing? On the other hand, her father loved helping people, so he might want to be part of it. But she didn’t want to involve him in whatever was going to happen. And, of course, there was every member of her church, plus all her relatives. How would she explain this to them?
Mitzi was sitting on a little rug that had been tossed on the ground, and she was glaring hard at Sara, as though she could forcibly put thoughts in her head.
Sara glared back. “You’d better hope nothing’s wrong with Mike or I’ll make you sorry you were ever born.” Sara thought of taking the gag out of the woman’s mouth and asking her questions, but she’d probably yell and people would come running. There was no way in the world that Sara would be able to explain what she was doing.
On the other side of the curtain she heard Mr. Lang’s low voice and thought that she should have made an effort to dress him in a costume. But then, Mr. Lang was so odd-looking on his own, he didn’t need any embellishment.
She peeped through the curtain and saw Carol Garrison sitting there, her eyes wide. No one in Edilean had been this close to the secretive old man since … Well, maybe not since 1941.
Sara didn’t know Mrs. Garrison and was glad she didn’t have to try to make up a fortune for her—but it was obvious that the snooping Mr. Lang knew all about her. He told her that her eldest daughter was sneaking out her bedroom window to meet a boy whose family had just moved here from Atlanta and that they smoked cigarettes together. Her younger daughter had stolen three dollars from her mother’s purse, and her son liked to sing when he was alone and she should get him lessons. As for her husband, he really was working late at night because he wanted to buy a boat, which he’d already made a deposit on.
Mrs. Garrison sat there in silence, eyes wide, mouth open.
“That’s it,” Mr. Lang growled. “Go away. Send in the next one.”
“What have I done?” Sara whispered aloud as she closed the curtain and looked back at Mitzi Vandlo. Again, her mind filled with the treachery of this woman. “I hope they put you away forever for what you did to Brian. He was a very sweet young man and he had a great future ahead of him.”
The woman’s eyes seemed to laugh, and Sara had an almost irresistible urge to hit her. Instead, she looked away. Where was Ariel? What was taking her so long? By now she could have borrowed her family’s van or even taken the prize car. She could have—
She broke off because the back of the tent suddenly parted and in came about three feet of the back of a black car she recognized. It was Mike’s precious BMW. He was safe! Sara nearly tripped over the bound-and-gagged woman as she ran outside to the driver’s side. Mike’s windows were so dark that she didn’t realize Ariel was driving until she flung open the door and got out.
“Where’s Mike?” Sara’s voice held fear.
“I’ve already told you all I know about him,” Ariel said as she went into the tent, which now had part of a car inside it.
Sara followed her.
“I thought we’d put her in the trunk,” Ariel said. “That okay with you?”
“Yes, but how did you get Mike’s car? Why did you get his car?
“Was I supposed to steal somebody’s Camry? Or maybe a Kia?” She grabbed one side of Mrs. Myers. “Get her other arm.” She glared at the woman. “You hurt me in any way and I’ll make you sorry.”
Sara was still looking at Ariel, waiting for an answer.
“My dad’s a dealer. I called Sue at the office, gave her the VIN number, and she popped the car open.”
“And she was able to start it that way too?”
“No, I did that. A few wires and …” Ariel shrugged.
They were struggling with Mitzi, as she’d gone slack in their arms and she was quite heavy. It took all their strength to get her into the trunk and slam the lid.
“I’m driving,” Ariel said.
When they were in the car and pulling out of the fairgrounds, Sara said, “Ariel, you’re going to make some man a great husband.”
Ariel didn’t take offense. “The minute I find a man half as good as my brothers, I’m taking him. Can I assume we’re going to Merlin’s Farm?”
“I guess so, as whatever was in the secret room—paintings?—is what Stefan was after.” Sara knew there was only one piece of art that someone had left her the rights to in a will, the CAY watercolor. Surely, that childish little picture couldn’t be worth a lot of money.
Ariel was maneuvering Mike’s car through the people of the fair, heading toward the road. When they reached the end of the grounds, a young man ran to move the barrier to let them through.