Someone Must Die
Sharon Potts
CHAPTER 1
The centrifugal force hit her harder than a couple of Cuba Libres on an empty stomach. Diana Lynd gripped the rim of the giant teacup as it spun around so fast she became queasy and disoriented. On the other side of the cup, her six-year-old grandson, Ethan, howled with delight, his golden curls flying out like a halo.
The booths, rides, crowds, palm trees, and blue sky rushed around her in a blur, the carny music earsplitting. She focused on the white steeple of the local church as it went past, like a ballerina spotting her mark, but it didn’t help her dizziness.
“Please stop,” she muttered, not sure how much more she could take. She was a sixty-three-year-old grandmother, a retired physician, for God’s sake—no longer a daring, adventurous girl.
The music became funereal and sour as the teacup finally slowed, then came to a jerky halt. Ethan tugged on her fingers. His hand was sticky with the ice cream she had tried unsuccessfully to wipe off. “Come on, Grandma. Let’s go to the fun house.”
Diana stood, her legs wobbly. The air smelled like cotton candy and corn dogs, but then she caught a whiff of vomit. Apparently some other grandmother had succumbed to all this fun.
“Are you okay?” Ethan’s dark-brown eyes were wide and serious. His New York Mets baseball cap had left a faint indentation in his forehead. He’d finally surrendered it to her on this last ride, worried it might fly off. She had tucked away the worn, dirty cap in her hobo bag.
“I’ll be fine, honey,” she said. “But let’s take a little break.”
He frowned like a grown-up, old beyond his years, just like his dad used to when he was a little boy. Kevin. She was sorry she had given her son so much to frown about.
“We can go home now if you want, Grandma,” Ethan said, his crystalline voice trembling. “I had a wonderful time.”
She laughed. Irresistible child. How happy and grateful she was that Kevin and his wife, Kim, had accepted her back in their lives after that awful misunderstanding about her illness and their wedding. But how she wished she had seen her only grandchild take his first steps, had heard him speak his first words, and had been there for his first day of kindergarten.
“I’m glad you’re having fun,” she said. “We don’t have to leave yet.”
He grinned, a child once again. He had lost one of his upper baby teeth, and there was a ridge from the adult tooth pushing through.
She reached into her bag for her phone. “Let me take your picture.”
“Again?”
“Just one more.” She had taken a dozen since his maternal grandparents had dropped him off in Miami yesterday. The Simmers had helped Ethan settle into his dad’s old bedroom, with barely a glance in Diana’s direction, while the chauffeur waited in their limo to drive them to their winter home in Palm Beach. Diana knew Kevin’s in-laws carried a grudge against her over missing the kids’ wedding and didn’t approve of Kevin and Kim’s decision to let Ethan stay with her. She had been careful not to say or do anything that might give them an excuse to flee with Ethan in tow, and had let out a big sigh of relief when they had finally left.
“How’s this, Grandma?” Ethan posed, wrinkling his nose—a natural ham. He was wearing the sky-blue T-shirt she’d gotten him. It had a picture of a jumping dolphin. She hoped it would remind him of her when he was back home in New York.
She took the photo, then Ethan came around and snuggled into the crook of her arm. She marveled at his complete acceptance of her, a grandmother he hardly knew.
“You can take a selfie of us,” he said.
“A selfie?”
“I do it all the time. I’ll show you.” He examined her iPhone with adult concentration, then pressed something on the screen. “Hold your arm like this,” he instructed, demonstrating, “then touch the circle.”
She stretched out her arm, and the two of them came into view on the small screen.
“Well, aren’t you smart?” she said. “Smile.”
She took the selfie and studied it. Ethan resting against her white blouse, the roller coaster, merry-go-round, and carnival booths with crowds of people in the background. Her shoulder-length dark hair, caught by a gust of wind, obscured part of her smile. One of the ticket takers had mistaken her for Ethan’s mother, but maybe he’d just been flattering her.
Then again, perhaps her bliss was apparent to others.
After years of bitterness toward Larry for discarding her like a broken car, she finally had everything she wanted in life. A man she loved who also loved her, time for herself since retiring from her medical practice, reconciliation with her son, and the joy of being with her grandson. If only her daughter weren’t going through her own difficulties, everything would be perfect.
“I’m going to text this to your Aunt Aubrey, then we can go to the fun house.”
“Do you need help?”
Diana laughed again. “Thanks, but that much I know.”
She tapped out a quick message to her daughter. At a church carnival. Having a lot of fun. I love this child.
She started to smile at him, but he was no longer standing in front of the teacup ride.
Her heart stuttered, and she spun around.
“Ethan?”
A group of boisterous children darted in front of her, balloons bobbing behind them.
“Ethan!”
“Here, Grandma.”
She turned toward his voice, her legs shaking, as she released a sigh of relief.
Her grandson stood beside a booth a few feet from her where a bearded man with tattoos covering his arms was throwing darts at balloons. Dozens of gray stuffed animals hung from the rafters.
She hurried over to him. “You can’t run off like that.”