“Gorry, the Point! Deeds to the whole thing! We're rich!' She appeared to have forgotten that she was tied up, awaiting the police and charges of murder, attempted murder, and drug trafficking. Faith was also pretty sure that Sonny wouldn't be giving Margery so much as a green stamp once he found out about her passion for Eric.
The thought must have occurred to Eric, too.
“What do you mean
“Before you what, Eric? Before you killed her too?' Faith was sure that was what he had intended to say.
Margery raised her head off the floor. Her cheek was imprinted with the mark of the braided rug she was lying on. It stood out against the rest of her face, which had paled.
“Eric! You killed Sonny's aunt?' It was one thing to murder strangers and off-islanders, but family?
As Faith was endeavoring to run this perverted morality through her mind, Sonny came around at last. Either the fact that he could be rich, his aunt's murder, or both had doused him like a faceful of cold water.
“What's going on? Why are we all tied up?”
Before Faith could get to the explanations, there was a loud knock on the door and Sergeant Earl Dickinson strode in. He moved his head slowly, taking in the full sweep of the room.
“Judas Priest, I heard it and I couldn't believe it. I'm seeing it and I still don't.”
The giant Ferris wheel, crown jewel of Smokey's Greater Shows, rose high above the fairgrounds, silhouetted against Blue Hill. Ben had had several rides on .the merry-go-round. Now it was Faith and Tom's turn for some fun.
People were still getting into the bottom car, and the Fairchilds were suspended at the top of the wheel. Below them, Pix, holding Ben, was waving and trying to direct his attention skyward. He was more interested in the gears of the machine that moved the wheel.
“I love Ferris wheels,' Faith said, sitting as close as possible to Tom.
“Me, too. And I've never been on one with such a magnificent view before.' He gestured toward the bay, which looked like another fairground, its flat expanse reflecting the moon in tiny spots of white light as the current changed.
The gondola swayed and the wheel began to turn. Down they swept past the Millers and Ben, past the midway, the animal barns, the 4-H Beef Show, the State of Maine Two Crusted Blueberry Pie Contest goods lined up in the exhibition hall, the John Deere oooth, and the grandstand where people were patiently waiting for Joie Chitwood's Auto Thrill Show to start.
Faith was content. Pix had sworn there was a concession run by a local grange that served up a perfect lobster stew, and after that there would be fireworks. The last night of the fair. The last night of summer.
The wheel began to slow and soon they were up at the top again, immobile for a brief moment as people got off. 'Hey, honey, wanna neck?' Tom breathed into her ear. 'Okay, out I'd better tell you right now. I go all the way.”
“I'm a lucky guy. Do you want to go 'round again?”
“Absolutely, but I think we'd better relieve Pix and Sam.
Maybe after we eat.”
The wheel lowered them down and they stepped out. Ben oegan to squeal with delight as soon as he saw them.
“Daddee, Daddee!' Far from having forgotten Tom, as was feared, Ben would barely let him out of his sight.
“Lead us to that lobster stew, Pix. I'm starving,' Tom said as he hoisted Ben up on his shoulders.
“This way. The Fraziers are meeting us there, but I want to get some french fries first.”
Pix had been steadily consuming french fries since they arrived. Faith succumbed as well when she saw the sacks of potatoes outside the stands and tasted one of Pix's fries—crisp, fresh, and with a bit of the skin still clinging to it. But douse it with vinegar, as was the local custom, adopted by the Millers, she would not.
The Fraziers were eating corn on the cob, near the French Fry Queen's stand. Louise's chin was shiny with butter and they looked as if they were having their first good time in a long time.
They all made their way together to the picnic tables set up by the grange under a tent. The night air was beginning to assume an autumnal character and it was pleasant to walk into the warm tent filled with the smells of fair food.
They sat down around a big table and ordered lobster stew, biscuits, and coffee. While they were waiting, Jill came in. Jill and Sergeant Dickinson. Faith wasn't surprised. She had expected the full cast of characters to appear—those that were not dead or in jail, that is. They had already seen the Hamiltons at the 3,200-pound six- foot oxen pull and Hope and Quentin were happily wandering the arcades, toting an enormous white bison Quentin had won pitching pennies. This was what 'Meet Me at the Fair' was all about. Sooner or later you'd run into everyone you had met all summer.
Faith waved. 'Come join us,' she called.
“Thank you. We'd be glad to,' answered Earl, putting a protective arm around Jill and steering her toward the table. So it was like that.
Jill was the first to bring up what was on everyone's mind.
'Don't think you have to avoid talking about what has
happened because of me,' she told them. 'It's going to take
a long time to sort it all out and talking is the only way to do it. To say that I didn't know what Eric was like is a major understatement.”
Faith was relieved. She still had a question or two and the people who could supply some of the answers were sitting right there.
“I still can't believe I missed the whole thing,' Pix said ruefully. 'If Arlene's mother had taken proper care of her tires, she wouldn't have had a flat on the way back from Bangor. I spent all my time driving back and forth from the bridge to the Prescotts', sick with worry about Samantha. Of course, if they hadn't been delayed, I would have had her with me and that wouldn't have been good.'
“Or good for you either, sweetheart,' Sam said emphatically. 'There's no telling what you might have taken it into your head to do.”
Faith was afraid they were going to get hopelessly sidetracked on one of the famous Miller tangents. She interrupted.
“You're off duty, Earl, or so it seems.' She smiled as she caught him dipping a spoon to taste Jill's chowder. He'd ordered a hamburger. 'What were Eric and the Prescotts up to?'
“Well, I figure you have a better right than most to know, Mrs. Fairchild. Anyway, it's no secret now. Sonny Prescott has turned state's evidence and hasn't stopped talking since we got him to Ellsworth. He's pretty sore about Margery. Never knew she was carrying on like that. Come to mention it, quite a few of us were surprised.'
“Matilda never liked Margery,' Louise commented. 'Said she used to poke around the house and attic at night. Looking for that gold, I suppose.'
“I think we can forget about the gold. I know it was in that letter in the box you found, but I've been hearing about it since I was a kid, and nobody ever saw it or ever will.'
“Don't forget, Earl, somebody over in Penobscot dug up a vase near the Bagaduce river with more than two thousand gold coins inside. It was believed to be pirate gold,' Jill reminded him.
“Honey, that was more than a hundred years ago! Any gold around these parts has already been found or is just imagined. Anyway, a lot of people believed Matilda had the gold and I have an idea she liked them to. But that didn't get her killed. No, what got her killed was kindness or foolishness or both.'
“What do you mean?' Tom asked. He had a lot of catching up to do and had barely gotten all the people straight. What he did have straight was that his wife had once more unaccountably landed herself and child in
