She bought their tickets and Ruby’s and they crossed into the fairgrounds. The empty field that was part of Craven Peak State Forest had been transformed into the claustrophobic cacophony of a carnival sideshow. The layout forced them down a long stretch of games and concession stands lined with vendors hawking a variety of things that no one needed, but nonetheless everyone still gathered to listen to their mesmerizing spiels and some would eventually buy. All the same useless gadgets and gizmos that they’d sold when Leah was a kid—and that she’d saved her allowance to buy, certain that the ‘guaranteed to write in zero gravity’ astronaut-certified pen would garner her straight As or that the X-ray glasses would grant her magical powers of observation.
It felt strange that this was the first time she’d ever come to the fair with her own mother. Ruby had left Leah in the care of Leah’s great-aunt, Nellie, when Leah was eleven. But after Ian was killed, Leah had returned with Emily to live at the farm Nellie had bequeathed Leah, and Ruby had joined them, somehow inserting herself back into Leah’s life. Their relationship was still strained by two decades of things not said, along with Leah’s fear that sooner or later Ruby would betray Emily’s trust in her, but they were making it work. Kind of. For now.
“What makes you so sure you won any ribbons?” Ruby asked the kids in a teasing tone. Emily had recreated several of Nellie’s chocolate truffle recipes using the lavender and roses grown at the farm, leaving a mouth-watering aroma perfuming the kitchen for weeks as she experimented. Luka had finally given Nate his own phone, one with the best camera available, and Nate had devoured YouTube videos on using it to document his new environment. Then Luka had printed the photos Nate chose and he’d framed them.
Not wanting them to be disappointed, Leah had warned both kids that it wasn’t likely that they would win anything. The Craven County Fair did not award prizes merely for participation. Emily and Nate were up against older kids who’d spent years in 4H and had generations of blue-ribbon winners to coach them.
It’d been nerve-racking, waiting all week for the judging today. She had no idea how she was going to face the kids if they didn’t win something, even the lowest honorable mention. “If you don’t win—” she started, only to be interrupted by Emily.
“We’re winning. We’re winning everything.” Emily’s confidence constantly amazed Leah. And reminded her of Ian. She felt a sharp stab to the heart, wishing he was there to see their daughter, hoping that maybe he was. Leah wasn’t religious, but that didn’t stop her from believing in Ian. If anyone could force their spirit to linger with their family after death, it was Ian.
“Blue ribbon, blue ribbon, blue ribbon,” Emily chanted, taking Nate’s arm and doing a quick do-si-do.
Leah glanced at Ruby, who simply gave her a smug smile. “Don’t worry. It’ll be fine.”
Those words had never brought comfort to Leah when she was a child—mostly because they were never true. At least never when Ruby spoke them. Leah gritted her teeth and swallowed the memories, leaving a taste of bitter ash behind. “What makes you so sure?”
Ruby slowed her pace, letting the kids get a few steps ahead of them, the tinny music blaring from the stands masking her tone. “I have a certain friend who has insider knowledge. He assured me, we don’t have anything to worry about.”
“Really?”
Ruby nodded as the kids returned.
“Mom, can we—”
And so it began… Leah allowed herself to be tugged down the midway, her mind already reeling from the crowds and constant barrage of sensory overstimulation, but she smiled anyway. As long as the kids were happy, what was one day?
After all, it was Fair. Heralding the last magical week of summer freedom before school began. Nothing bad ever happened during Fair.
Four
Harper wasn’t certain if Luka was babysitting her or helping her. In the spring, she’d worked with his Violent Crimes Unit while still a patrol officer, so she knew that Luka got involved with all of his unit’s cases, especially at the start. But this felt different. It felt like a test. Why else would a detective sergeant spend hours slogging through the heat, tramping up and down urine-stained staircases, simply to help her with the scut work of canvassing the Towers for potential witnesses? Now that she’d finally made detective, she’d hoped that the constant feeling of being judged would vanish, but no such luck.
Somewhere in the middle of their door-knock on the fourth floor, Maggie had texted, confirming Lily’s identity. No driver’s license, but several arrests for solicitation and drug possession, current address unknown. Lily had turned eighteen just a few days ago—the same day Harper had been promoted, she couldn’t help but note, the irony only adding to her sense of frustration at such a young life taken. More than frustration: an anger that tasted bitter and raw.
As was usual with the Towers, no one had seen anything, no one could identify their victim, and no one remembered anything unusual about the night. The most they got was from an elderly man in the second-floor apartment whose bedroom overlooked the alley. He thought he heard a woman crying when he got up to go to the bathroom, but he couldn’t remember what time and he didn’t look out of his window; by the time he returned to bed, it was quiet.
“Maybe it wasn’t a woman,” he’d told Harper, squinting through thick lenses. “Could of been an alley cat. I don’t know, not for sure.”
She and Luka left, trudging down the graffiti-covered staircase.
“He was the best of the lot.” She stifled a sigh, wishing she hadn’t worn a jacket over her blouse and slacks, but she
