CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Antoine and Luc returned with the journals and set about reading them. What they hadn't counted on was the large number of journals. It seemed Gus had been writing his thoughts out since he was just a child.

They read those from the ages of ten to twenty but knew that they wouldn't provide great insight. He seemed a happy child, happy teenager, although bullied somewhat for his slow intellect.

When they began reading at the start of his priesthood, they knew they would need help. Gus was a storyteller and wrote about everyone and everything. Calling in Grace and Alexandra to help read them they knew the two women would be able to pull out details that the two of them might miss.

While they dove into the mind of Gus, Whiskey, Clay, and Mac went back out to the circus. The competition was in full swing today, with the acrobats performing their routines on tightropes, balls, and much more. Their colorful costumes told them who belonged to which circus company. The one they were most interested in was O'Noth and their dark blue velvet costumes.

"They've got to be fucking hot in that shit," muttered Mac. "It's ninety-five today, and they're wearing blue velvet."

"I'm sure it gets a little ripe," smirked Clay.

"This feels like a legit thing," said Whiskey. "I mean, the competition itself feels real. They're winning prizes and trophies, the animals look well cared for, and the midway and rides are clean and, for the most part, seem on the up and up."

"Hey," said Mac, jerking his head toward a crying little girl. They walked toward her, kneeling in front of the girl. She saw Clay's artificial leg and stared at him.

"Hi, sweetie, are you okay?" asked Whiskey.

"I lost m-my mommy," she cried wiping her eyes.

"Oh. That's alright, we'll find her. You know, she's probably the one that's lost. I bet she's crying, wondering how she got lost and is looking for you," said Whiskey. The little girl sniffed, nodding her head at the man.

"You have a funny leg," she said to Clay.

"It is funny, isn't it?" he smiled. "It's called a prosthetic leg."

"Did someone take your other one?" she asked. Clay chuckled as the other men smiled at him.

"Well, it was something like that. An explosion took my leg, but I was given this one, and it's even better. It makes me really fast," he smiled. "What's your name?"

"Sylvie. It's my Mamaw's name."

"It's a beautiful name," said Mac, walking back with one of the sheriff's deputies. "Sylvie, this is Deputy Warden. Can you tell him what your mama was wearing or what she looks like?"

"She's got hair like mine. Brown. But she has pretty blue eyes, not like my brown ones."

"I think your brown ones are beautiful," said Whiskey. "What was she wearing, do you remember?"

"White shorts like mine," she said excitedly. "Her shirt was pink, though, not purple."

"What's her name?" asked Mac.

"Thea. Thea Thomason."

"I'll have them make an announcement," smiled Warden.

A few moments later, they heard the announcement on the loudspeaker system that they were looking for a lost mama named Thea Thomason. The announcer said that her daughter was very worried about her and she needed to get back to her as soon as possible.

Mac and Clay smiled at one another. It seemed to help kids if they thought it was the parents who were lost, not them. They sat down in the shade of one of the concession umbrellas and bought the little girl a soda and some popcorn. When an hour had passed, the announcement was made three more times, and the men started to become more concerned.

"Brother, this feels odd. Trak and Angel said the sheriff told them that another woman had disappeared, but they thought it was a domestic dispute," said Mac.

"Yeah, two domestic disputes feel wrong. Plus, Mamas don't tend to lose their babies."

Whiskey looked around the space, seeking the eyes he knew were probably staring directly at them. There were hundreds of attendees today, so trying to find someone that was staring at them was more difficult than he first thought.

"There," said Mac, staring directly into Whiskey's face. "Behind the corn dog trailer. Two men staring this way."

Whiskey casually strolled around the table, ordering another soda at the concession stand. Turning, he faced the corn dog trailer with his sunglasses hiding his eyes. Two older men stood watching their every move, speaking in hushed tones, then suddenly looking like they were arguing.

"Who are they?" asked Clay.

"Not sure. Let's find out," said Whiskey. Before they could move, the deputy was turning toward them.

"Hey, fellas, we have a problem here. There's no domestic dispute at home, no one unhappy. Mama and daughter came today for an adventure. Her car is in the parking lot, no damage to it. Her purse is under her car seat in the front, and her wallet is inside. Looks like she's missing one credit card, and her husband said he gave her two hundred in cash to really enjoy the day.

"The husband is on his way to get the little girl, but he's a mess right now. He said his wife would never have left their little girl. Not in a million years." Mac turned toward the child, still eating her popcorn.

"Sylvie? What were you and Mommy doing when she left you?" he asked.

"We were watching the monkeys perform. They were dancing over there, and one of them came up to Mommy and held her hand."

"The monkey held your mommy's hand?" frowned Mac.

"Uh huh. He got her to dance with him. Then the crowd got big, and I got lost. I couldn't see Mommy anymore. Then the crowd was gone, but so was Mommy."

"Sylvie! Sylvie!" yelled the man, running toward them. "Oh, Sylvie! Sweetie, are you okay?"

"I'm good, Daddy. These men gave me popcorn and a soda. I might have forgotten to tell them I can't have soda." Her father laughed, the three men rolling their eyes.

"I think it's okay this one time," he smiled. "Honey, where is Mommy?"

"I don't know," she sniffed.

"Sir, we were just trying to figure that out," said Mac. "We're honestly not sure what happened here."

"I can tell you this," said the man, lifting his daughter into his arms. "Thea would have rather died than leave Sylvie. They were connected at the hip. Two peas in a pod. She is the best mother I know. Something is wrong here. Seriously, seriously wrong." Whiskey nodded his head.

"We are definitely in agreement, sir. We're going to figure this out."