Then she got ready to return to the fair. It was the opening day. After pulling on her best pair of jeans and donning a soft purple sweater that looked good with the suede jacket she would take to wear that evening, she slipped on the silver-and-turquoise ring Anna had given her for her last birthday. She didn’t wear it often, since it was a teensy bit too large and tended to slip off. Today, she wanted to wear something comforting to keep her mind from dwelling on Mike every second. He still wasn’t answering his phone. She couldn’t get Julie either, and she didn’t have Jay’s number.
What she really wanted to do was talk to Mike and see how he was holding up and if he had actually been charged. She still didn’t even know, though, if he was in jail or at home. Or what she would do if he did want her to help him out. Or why a ring should make her think of him. She decided she had to try Julie again. She was going to worry herself crazy if she didn’t get hold of her.
“Chase! Mike is in the news today. They’re definitely saying he was held for questioning in the death of Larry Oake.”
“That’s what I called about. Did Jay have any luck last night?” Chase twirled the ring around on her finger.
“He got him out early this morning, but Mike is on the radar for the murder. He was questioned for a long, long time, Jay said. Do you think there is any way he could have killed that man?”
“No! He was retrieving Quincy. Quincy had gotten into the exhibit and was after the butter.”
Julie groaned. “That doesn’t necessarily mean that Mike didn’t also kill the guy. But I can’t imagine him doing that.”
“Why would he kill him? He didn’t know the victim. Oake is from Wisconsin, you said.”
“He is. But his wife is from Minneapolis. He’s probably been here a lot.”
“So, what does Jay say? Anything?” The turquoise ring slipped past her knuckle and she pushed it back on.
“Just that he stayed there until they let Mike go. And he drove him home. The only information he has is what Mike told him. Jay isn’t sure he can take the case himself, but he will find him a good lawyer, don’t worry.”
“Maybe he won’t need a lawyer. We don’t know that he’s been formally accused, do we? What do you mean by saying Mike is on the radar?”
“That probably means they don’t have any other suspects right now, Chase. The morning news reported his name as a person of interest, but Jay says he hasn’t been charged.”
Yet, Chase thought glumly. Mike was not off the hook, and things weren’t looking good.
FIVE
Tanner texted Chase on her way to the fair, saying the pictures were “dope” and he could totally use them. When she got there, lugging Quincy along in his crate, Anna was already at their booth and it looked about ready to go. A short woman with frizzy bleached hair was leaving as Chase was approaching.
“Who’s that?” Chase asked.
“You’ll never guess. It’s Jay Wright’s aunt! He told her where our booth would be and she stopped in to say hi.”
“Oh, right. He said she’s one of the organizers. I’ll have to meet her the next time she stops by.”
“Right now you can arrange the basket and these fliers.”
The ginger-striped cat fidgeted in the confines of his hard-sided crate. Usually, he settled in and stayed still for journeys that took place in the car, but this time the memory of all that butter taunted him. He could smell that he was in the same place as yesterday, the place with the butter. After his crate was shoved under the table, leaving him in dusky darkness, he started working at the latch. He hadn’t conquered this new one. Yet.
The kiddie rides were in full swing. Each one had its own music, creating a merry cacophony in the background for those on the midway.
The presence of armed police officers roaming the midway was a sober reminder that a serious crime had been committed. It took some of the shine off the fair, but seemingly hadn’t hurt attendance.
“Did you see the news this morning?” Chase asked.
“No,” Anna said slowly. “Is there something bad in it? About Mike?”
“Yes, I’m afraid so. Julie said he’s not being accused of the murder. But the paper called him a person of interest.”
“Oh dear. But Jay did get him out?”
“Jay stayed until they let Mike go. I don’t know if he’s here yet or not. What’s happening over there?” Chase noticed a commotion down the midway.
“It’s the parade. The official opening of the fair. We’d better stay put while it passes.”
The fair opened with a procession down the midway. A team of horses led the way, pulling Miss Bunyan County in an ornate carriage. The local Shriners drove their silly little bikes, and a Boy Scout troop marched past, somewhat in precision. Next came the Girl Scouts, tossing hard candies and waving. In the distance a high school band could be heard getting louder as it got closer.
“That’s going to scare Quincy,” Anna said. “All those trumpets and trombones.”
“And drums. Should I throw a blanket over his crate?” asked Chase.
“He’s not a bird. Maybe we should get him out and hold him.”
“Definitely not. He’ll bolt. It’ll be okay. He’ll live.”
Anna raised the skirt of the table to peek in on him. His amber eyes stared back, wide and frightened. Anna dropped the skirt, shaking her head.
“I’ll take his cage out in back of the booths,” Chase said, relenting. He had probably never been this close to so much noise. It was bound to have a bad effect on him. “It’ll be quieter there. Just until the parade passes.”
Chase pulled the crate out and hefted it up. This hard-sided cage was heavier than the soft cloth one she had used before. But Quincy had proven he was able to get out of that one without much trouble. It zipped shut, and the zipper was easy for him to open by hooking a claw in the pull if it was left even the teensiest bit agape. Or sometimes, Chase swore, even if it wasn’t.
She lugged the carrier between the Bar None booth and the next one, still empty this morning, and set Quincy down on the dirt. The organizers had left aisles between every other booth, using common walls for the booths that were joined together. The Bar None booth was connected to one rented by a travel agency.
A large maple with blazing red leaves shaded the area behind the booths. Chase leaned against the rough, solid trunk to wait for the boisterous parade to end.
Voices came from past the travel agents’ booth, which was operated by two women, a short redhead and a tall blonde. The next booth down the line was the fortune-teller’s.
A conversation from behind the fortune-telling booth floated to Chase, over the sounds of the parade and the band, which was still approaching.
“Yes, Grandpapa. I know I shouldn’t have taken it.” Chase heard a low-pitched woman’s voice. “But I wanted so much to try it on Princess Puffball before the Fancy Cat Contest. Just to see what it would look like if she wins.”
Chase’s ears perked at the words “cat contest.”
A man’s voice spoke too softly for Chase to hear.
“No, I told you. I don’t know where it is. I haven’t been able to find it yet. I’ll put it back in the exhibit as soon as I find it, I promise.”
The band drew nigh and drowned out the conversation. When it had passed, Chase leaned out and looked around to see who the speakers were. Only one remained: the fortune-teller herself. That is, the person Chase assumed was the fortune-teller. At any rate, she was the young woman who had been at that tent earlier with Mike and Mike’s aunt Betsy. She must have a cat. Princess Puffball? And she had taken something and lost it.