“This is looking more and more like it was a good idea,” Anna said, beginning to pack up. “What I mean is that I’m glad we decided to come to the fair this week. When Julie mentioned it—”
“Mentioned it?” Chase said, slipping on her jacket in the evening coolness. “She twisted our arms.”
“You’re right. When she twisted our arms, I resisted. I’m glad I’m here, but I am dressing more warmly tomorrow.” She gestured at the mostly empty table. “Look how many we sold.”
“I didn’t think we’d do this well in one day,” agreed Chase. There were very few unsold dessert bars to pack up. “I hope we have enough in the freezer to last the week.”
“I can always bake more in the evening.”
“Night, you mean. The fair is open until after dark.” The fair closed at nine and the sun had already set at about seven.
“Semantics.” Anna grinned. “Whatever. I can bake more. Why don’t you go collect Quincy while I finish here? It’ll only take a few more minutes.”
A woman was leading a pet pig in a harness out of Dr. Ramos’s office when Chase got there. Maybe there’s some sort of pig contest, she surmised. There seemed to be animal competitions every day. Betsy was gone already.
“Is her pig sick?” she asked Mike, after the door closed.
“You know I’m not supposed to talk about my patients, but no, the pig is fine. You here to get Quincy?” He stood close and she could smell his clean shirt.
“Time to take him home.” She tilted her head up at him, looking deep into those chocolate eyes. She wasn’t seeing nearly enough of him.
“How are you and Anna doing?” Mike reached out and touched her arm.
He was so sweet to check on them. “We’re selling up a storm. But how are you doing?”
“With the police, you mean?” Chase nodded. “I had to answer the same questions again today for Detective Olson.” Chase hadn’t seen the homicide detective at the fair today, but there was no reason for him to drop in at her booth. “I think I’m still the number one suspect.” She saw his jaw working as he clenched his teeth.
“That’s not fair. I’ve just talked to two people who at least have motives.” This time she put her hand on his arm. “You were only retrieving Quincy, weren’t you?”
He hesitated for two or three seconds. “Yes, I was getting Quincy.”
“It was smart of you to look for him with the butter. I do wonder how he got in there, though.” When she’d pushed that door open, the spring was awfully stiff. A cat could never open it, even a heavyset one.
“He had to have slipped in when someone opened the door, don’t you think?” Mike asked. He got Quincy from his cage and crated him for Chase.
“I guess. I wish he hadn’t gone inside there at all.”
Driving home with her pet in his crate on the floor beside her, she wondered exactly why Mike had looked where he had. What made him think to check that place? It was true, she knew, that Quincy could not have gotten in by himself. Even though there was the temptation of pounds and pounds of butter, she would not have thought of looking inside that building. Was Mike holding back his reason for being there?
Later that night, Chase was just getting around to drawing a bath and getting ready for bed when her doorbell rang. Glad that she was still dressed, she ran downstairs and peeked through the chain latch to see who was there.
When she saw it was Inger Uhlgren, she unhooked the chain and threw the door open wide. The young woman looked awful. Her gray eyes usually looked huge in her small face, but tonight all Chase noticed were the black circles beneath those pretty eyes.
“Come upstairs, dear. Can I get you something?”
Inger lugged a heavy-looking cloth bag, which Chase took from her as they went up to the apartment. When they got there, Inger asked for a cup of herb tea. While the water heated, Chase fussed over her, settling her on the leather couch with an afghan. Quincy seemed to sense Inger’s distress and curled up beside her protectively.
After they both had mugs of peppermint tea, Inger drank a few sips and set hers down. “My parents won’t let me stay,” she said.
“They threw you out?”
Inger nodded.
“Why?”
“I went to the clinic, like you said. They told me I’m . . . I’m pregnant.” She bowed her head. “My parents say I’ve shamed them.”
Chase bit back a retort about parents who should support and love their children, for better or worse. This girl needed support and love now more than she probably ever had in her life. Inger was twenty-two, but seemed so much younger sometimes.
“I’m so sorry,” Chase said, feeling her words were inadequate. “Do you have a place to stay?”
Inger shook her head, which was still bowed. Chase moved to the couch and put an arm around her. Inger burst into tears and Chase held her while she sobbed for a good ten minutes. Chase couldn’t help but shed a few tears with her.
When Inger seemed to be done, Chase got tissues for both of them.
“Now,” Chase said. “What are we going to do?”
When Inger shrugged, Chase continued, casting about in her own mind for what to do next. “Have you talked to the baby’s father? Is he going to be any help?”
“Zack was in the army.” Her face crumpled and she sobbed once more. “We were going to get married. We weren’t careful enough.” She patted her stomach, though it hadn’t started to bulge yet. “He didn’t think he would get sent overseas again, but he did. And he didn’t . . . he didn’t come back.”
Poor Inger was truly alone.
After another brief crying jag, Chase called Anna.
SEVEN
Chase wouldn’t have believed it possible, but the fair was more crowded on Sunday than it had been on Saturday. Their neighbor had finally shown up. So far, the man she assumed was Harper had plopped boxes on his table and was stringing up his banner. It was cute, with “Harper’s Toys” spelled out in primary-colored capital letters. Some of the letters were in the shape of toys. The A looked like a teepee playhouse, both Ss were jump ropes, and the O was a striped beach ball.
She went over to say hello. The man, older and gray-haired with rather ugly black tattoos on his stringy forearms, balanced on the table and struggled to fasten the string to his banner in the upper corner of his booth. She didn’t want to distract him and make him lose his balance, so she waited until he spied her before she said anything.
He finally got the banner up, using a copious amount of soft swearing, and climbed off the table.
He saw Chase. “Hey, what do you want?” His voice was gruff.
That was rather ungracious, she thought. How was he going to sell toys if he frightened small children?
“I want to say hi. I’m Chase and I’m in the booth next door. I’m looking forward to seeing your toys. Are they handmade?”
“Yeah, they’re handmade. You’ll see ’em when I get set up.” He turned his back on her and started ripping his boxes open with a pocketknife. She walked away without seeing any of the toys. Why was he so unfriendly? The travel agents, their other neighbors, seemed nice anyway.
She whispered to Anna about Harper. “Our neighbor is a crabby old toymaker. Don’t bother trying to talk to him.”
“Maybe,” Anna whispered back, “he’s harried, being a day late to the fair. His mood might improve.”
Chase doubted it. After she zipped over to drop Quincy at the vet’s office, she hurried back to help Anna get their booth ready to open. The onslaught of dessert bar buyers was truly phenomenal. Sales rivaled those of their two busiest times at the Bar None, which were freshman move-in week at the U and the holiday rush from mid-November until Christmas Eve.