Mistress of Magic Read Free

they were making everyone think Max was responsible.
    And while the rumors surfaced, the resignations began to pour in. Financial backers were pulling out. The park was in the midst of a crisis. Max’s silent partner was planning on making an appearance at the meeting, Reggie had heard, and she was nervous. She had never met W. D. Blake, but she could picture him—a stuffy old millionaire, ready to pull the curtains on Max.
    But it wasn’t true. Max Delaney would never murder anyone. He might have been furious. He might have hated his ex-wife. And he might have put his fist through a wall, but he would never, never hurt a woman. Reggie knew her brother.
    He hadn’t killed anyone. Until her dying day, Reggie would swear that Max had had nothing to do with the woman’s disappearance.
    But that might not matter, not so far as the park mattered. The park might die anyway, just like Dan seemed to think.
    “Reggie—” Dan began.
    But she didn’t want to talk about it. She’d have to face it sooner or later. Sooner. The meeting would come soon enough. And for now, the depression was wearing down on her already.
    Any more misery was going to have to wait!
    “You were a wonderful Dolly Duckbill!” she told him cheerfully. “And I’m roasting! Scoot. I’ll see you later.” She gave him a shove toward the Dino Guys room and started for the Dino Gals. But as she started walking, she realized that there was a small tear along one of her felt-striped arms. She took an automatic turn toward the costume shop. Once inside the empty large room, she closed the door, then walked to one of the small sewing cabinets and set Dierdre’s head down while she rummaged in a drawer for a needle and thread.
    She could leave the costume for later; she could also just go ahead and mend it now. It suddenly seemed important that she mend it. She and Max were going to have to save money. Despite the fact that it was summer, that the schools were out, people weren’t flocking here the way they had last year.
    How could they? Speculation was out that Max Delaney might have murdered his ex-wife.
    She couldn’t quite fix the tear with the costume on. She looked around, but only costumes and dinosaur eyes stared back at her. Impatient, she wriggled out of the costume and stood barefoot in her bra and underwear, the costume heavy in her hands. Brows knit, she tried to concentrate on the tear in the costume and not on the very serious issues that were plaguing her life.
    She was good and quick with a needle. When she and Max had started out, they had made all their creatures by themselves, by hand. She had learned to sew, cut and baste, and she had done it all lovingly. It had been wonderful to see these creatures spring forth from their imaginations to become real before their eyes.
    There was the slight sound of a movement—a shuffle?—something, and Reggie felt as if the hair on the back of her neck pricked up. She stuck her finger with her needle, and automatically issued a sharp, “Ouch!” Fool! If someone was spying on her, she needed to be silent!
    There might be a murderer loose in the park, she thought suddenly. Since Max was supposed to be the murderer, and she knew that Max was innocent, then …
    The costume shop was off limits to anyone but certain employees. In fact, once she had been inside, once that door had closed behind her, anyone would have needed a key to follow her.
    “Who’s there?” she called out, hoping to sound authoritative. But her voice quavered.
    “It’s all right,” came a voice in reply.
    She froze. Not a voice. His voice. The man—the stranger from the crowd.
    For a moment, she didn’t see him. Then she saw him standing between a costume of Tyrannosaurus Tex and one of the large industrial sewing machines. If she had turned before, she would have seen him.
    “You!” she whispered.
    What was he doing there? He must have been in the back when she had arrived. He had come up on her silently. He had been