The long, winding corridor opened into a surprisingly large and elegant ballroom hosting an incredible indoor flea market.

  Marco took it all in. Just about every bit of it made him uncomfortable.

  All the trappings of a fun carnival layered on top of a creepy nursing home.

  Under the enormous crystal chandeliers, odd characters lounged inside curtain-draped booths, hawking dubious merchandise, used clothing and funky homemade crafts. It wasn’t very busy and there seemed to be far more people selling than there were customers buying.

  Almost everyone looked worn out and sad.

  At the far end of the ballroom, a small band played onstage, led by an elderly singer who looked vaguely familiar, maybe even famous once.

  A surprisingly large group of vendors were joyously singing along.

  It felt like a party, but also the last party. Like the Titanic’s final waltz, or some other impending disaster.

  “We need to find a way out of here.” Marco kept flipping his brochure map, anxious and unsure which side of the Golden Rays Clubhouse they were on.

  Lemon wandered over to a booth brimming with ceramic and glass animal figurines.

  An elderly woman in a flat straw boater sat behind a cloth-draped table, hands folded neatly, watching her with a patient smile.

  Marco and Marbles followed, keeping a closer eye on Lemon this time.

  The young girl raised her hand in a friendly greeting. “Hi!” she said to the old flea market lady, who smiled back.

  “What are you looking for today?” the old woman asked.

  “Nothing,” Marco answered flatly for her. “Come on, let’s go.”

  “Unicorns,” Lemon replied.

  “Oh, unicorns! I know I have one of those,” the old woman said warmly. “Wait right here.”

  She looked as fragile as one of her whimsical porcelain animals as she reached for her walking stick.

  An old black-and-white framed photograph sitting on top of the table seemed to captivate Marbles.

  It showed a beautiful young woman swinging upside down on a trapeze, smiling at the camera.

  “Come on, we need to get out of here!” Marco urged the other two.

  The little old lady hobbled toward the back shelves.

  A loud crash followed, a heavy ceramic something hitting the floor.

  “Oh, that one was already broken,” the old woman explained calmly as she headed back to the table.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  “Here you go, sweetheart, one unicorn!” she said, placing it gently on the tablecloth in front of them.

  Lemon pointed, dismayed. “Its horn is broken off. Look!”

  “Yes, but it’s still a beautiful unicorn. It’s a Hagen-Renaker,” the flea market lady replied. “That will be ten dollars.”

  Marco groaned. “We don’t have time for this.”

  A stranger wedged himself between Marbles and Marco, interrupting the sale.

  He was a distraught elderly man.

  “Excus-a me, please,” he said in an Italian accent. “Are you Carla?”

  “Carly, yes,” the flea market lady politely corrected him.

  He leaned in, cupping his hand over his mouth.

  In a loud whisper, he asked, “I was-a told you could find-a things…”

  Smiling, she turned and pointed at her shelves, declaring loud enough for everyone nearby to hear…

  “All I have is what you see… nothing more.”

  She glanced slyly in both directions, then toward the hallway entrance.

  Leaning in close, she cupped her hand to her mouth and whispered back—loudly.

  “What are you looking for?”

  The handsome Italian man spoke excitedly.

  “A little man with a beard-a. He is-a blue, with a yellow flower in his-a pocket.”

  “Stop right there.”

  She raised a finger to her lips to quiet him, then nodded and winked.

  Leaning down beneath her table, she retrieved a brown paper grocery sack.

  The old gentleman took the sack and opened it.

  Reaching in, he pulled out a funny old ceramic garden gnome.

  He turned it slowly to see its face.

  “It’s Fabio! Oh, Fabio! Grazi! Grazi!”

  He beamed and clutched the gnome to his chest as though it were his long-lost only child.

  The flea market lady held out her hand.

  “That’ll be ten dollars.”

  “Yes, of course-a.”

  He pulled a ten-dollar bill from his top shirt pocket and handed it to her.

  Carly kissed it.

  “This one I’ll keep. It’s lucky.”

  She tucked it into her own shirt pocket.

  The man took the bag, thanked her again, and left quickly.

  Carly turned to Lemon.

  “Now, how about this beautiful unicorn, sweetie? It’s only ten dollars.”

  She smiled, her beady eyes probing Lemon’s face.

  “No! It’s broken!” Lemon snapped.

  “Well, what else are you looking for, then?” Carly asked.

  “Obviously something important—otherwise your friend here wouldn’t be wearing a disguise.”

  She tilted her head.

  “You’re not fooling anyone with that get-up, darlin’.”

  She was looking straight at Marbles.

  Lemon stepped forward, her voice rising.

  “We’re looking for a stray orange cat! A real one!”

  “No, Lemon. She can’t help. She doesn’t know,” Marco said, trying to pull Lemon away.

  But Carly’s voice stopped Marco cold.

  “Oh, I know of an orange cat. There’s only one orange cat that everyone knows in Golden Rays. His name is Prince,” she said, smiling.

  “I can take you to him—but it will cost you ten dollars.”

  After a few more questions, Marco decided Carly was probably telling the truth.

  So he struck a deal: five dollars now, and another five dollars after they found him.

  But before they could leave, the strong, acrid scent of rose perfume rolled through the ballroom.

  Like a Mojave haboob.

  Oh yuck! Not her again.

  “PU!” cried Lemon, scrunching her face and holding her nose.

  It was the same crazy old lady they’d run from earlier.

  Glossy-faced and grinning with menace, the tall lady led an even bigger gaggle of creepy old people and a squad of scary security guards in bright yellow vests.

  The largest guard wore post-cataract surgery sunglasses. So big and blocky, they made him look like a cyborg.

  Carly’s face paled.

  “Nurr,” she whispered, uttering the big guard’s name like a curse.

  “Quick! Hide under here, or he’ll take you all away!”