Shadows at the Fair (7 page)

Only a few cars and trucks were driving down Oak Avenue, the two-lane street that separated the small buildings that were Kosy Kabins from the fairgrounds on the other side of the road. A red neon sign on the motel office roof flashed
NO VACANCY
, and its reflection gave the damp macadam driveway a surreal feeling. Maggie had a momentary vision of the pavement glistening with blood and shook her head. Too much imagination was working overtime.

The ground was wet, but not as muddy as it might have been. They headed down the motel driveway, past other cabins and corresponding cars and vans, and paused at the street.

“Nothing like crossing a dark street at night. Ben, let’s make sure we stay together.”

“Okay, Maggie.”

They carefully looked both ways. “And if we have to talk to anyone, you let me do the talking.” People were too quick to blame someone who was retarded. It would be easier for Ben if she could run interference.

Ben nodded.

“Then let’s go.”

The main gate to the fairgrounds was still open. Tomorrow there would be customers’ cars lined up at the entrance, waiting to find parking spaces in the fifteen-acre north field where attendants had already lined up stanchions on the grass to mark rows. The field was so large that Vince usually arranged for a series of minibuses to ferry people from the far parking areas to the main buildings. Better not to exhaust customers before they had even started to walk the aisles.

But tonight there were no cars in the field, and Maggie was relieved to see the gate still open. She glanced at her watch. Ten o’clock. The two policemen guarding the grounds looked as though they were about ready to close and lock the two large swinging, metal fence sections that were the entrance.

“Excuse me, folks, but the fairgrounds are closed.” Officer Taggart was still on duty. He looked at them curiously. They made a strange couple. Maggie looked tense and Ben was disheveled and pale. Both were walking too fast for a casual stroll.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but, remember me? I’m Maggie Summer—here’s my dealer’s identification?” Maggie showed him the badge that had been in her dealer packet earlier in the day, and which all dealers wore to identify themselves on the fairgrounds. “I’m from booth two twenty-three. And this is Ben Allen. He’s Gussie White’s assistant? Booth two twenty-four.” Ben pointed to the badge he had pinned to his white T-shirt.

“I remember you—the college professor who colors her hair.”

If looks could have killed, Office Taggart would have stopped breathing right then. Maggie instantly decided not to share the purpose of their errand with these two cops.

“The exhibit buildings are locked for the night and”—Taggart checked the clipboard in his hand—“according to my list, neither of you are sleeping on the grounds.” He looked at them both again. “I’m about to close up for the night.”

“We’re staying across the street,” Maggie said. “We just have to see someone. Someone who is staying here. We’ll be right back.”

“You’d better be quick; I remember you, but I’m going off-duty in about an hour, and the next guy in may not be enthused about having to open these gates again.”

“Understood.”

Maggie took Ben’s arm and steered him down the slightly inclined driveway that led either to the customer parking lot on the left or the dealer parking lot on the right. They turned right, around the side of the exhibit hall that was toward the south field, where the overnight dealers were parked.

“Maggie, you told the policeman we were going to see someone. We’re not going to see anyone.”

“Oh, Ben, I hope we are. We’re going to see that man you knocked down.”

“I don’t think the policeman understood that.”

“It’s all right, Ben. It was just a little lie. Sometimes you have to compromise a little.”

“I never lie.”

“Well, you’re right, Ben. That’s the way it should be. No one should lie.” They were almost to the end of the last building. “Okay, Ben, where do we go from here?”

“Over toward the bathrooms.” Two separate, large wooden sheds, one labeled
LADIES
and one
GENTLEMEN
, were ahead of them and to the right; the worn white paint and the chipped letters on the signs were clearly visible in the lights over their doorways. They were the only lights in this area, although there had been several high halogen safety lights near the entrance.

The mud was heavier here, in the area around the fair buildings where vans had been parking and unloading. The sneakers Maggie had worn all day had been damp when she’d changed to her heels earlier. Now the replacement loafers she’d slipped on were covered with heavy mud. Almost every other step hit a puddle and splashed her long skirt. There must be a small hole in the seam of her left shoe; she could feel a trickle of water making its way across her toes.

Dealer vans and trucks were parked in three haphazard lines along the field. She could see figures moving near the vans, but it was too dark to make out who they were.

“Hey, you’re Maggie Summer, aren’t you?” She jumped as a deep voice came from beside the dark van on her right. “I thought someone told me you were staying in comfort with the motel crowd!”

Will Brewer, the new dealer from across the aisle, stepped out of a shadow.

Kindly women might have called him a teddy bear, complete with beard and slight beer belly.

Maggie hesitated. Lydia had whispered to her that Will was a nice fellow; she’d done shows with him before. Until recently he’d taught woodworking at a private school in western New York State and spent weekends traveling to antiques shows. He was now trying to make the antiques business a full-time job.

Maggie hadn’t had time to more than wave at him before the reception started.

But clearly he remembered her.

And she was glad he was there. The more the merrier.

“And this is?” Will looked at Ben. “I got in late this afternoon, but I think I saw you helping to set up.”

Ben nodded.

“This is Ben Allen. He’s Gussie White’s assistant. We are staying in the Kabins across the street, but…” Maggie was torn. Will seemed like a nice guy, but she didn’t know how this would turn out. On the other hand, if there was a problem, she could probably use some help. Ben was trying hard, but this was a situation far from his normal world, and she wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to cope.

He was shaking slightly as they stood in front of the
GENTLEMEN
sign.

Maggie looked over his shoulder and saw Vince talking with someone over by the exhibit building.

“Ben was running on the track, in the back of the rest rooms, and he—he left his jacket back there. So we came to see if we could find it.”

Maggie hoped Ben wouldn’t say anything. She’d just told another falsehood, but she couldn’t tell the truth. It sounded too far-fetched.

She took a quick sidelong glance. Will was an attractive man. What was she thinking! This was not the moment to revive hormones best left dormant.

“It’s pretty dark back there. Mind if I walk over with you?” Will just naturally turned them toward the track. “Lydia Wyndham told me about your husband, Maggie. Sorry. Must be rough.”

Lydia must really have been talking.

“Yes, it’s a hard time.”

He nodded. “After my wife died, I kept thinking I saw her everywhere, even though I knew, of course, that she was gone. It was as though a big piece of the puzzle of my life was missing.” Will paused for a moment, but Maggie remained silent. “So, Ben, where exactly did you leave this jacket of yours?”

Ben looked at Maggie in panic.

“Didn’t you say you were just coming off the track when you dropped it?” Maggie said.

Ben half nodded.

“Then it must be somewhere near the entrance to the track.” They walked past the rest room buildings, past the picnic tables set up for tomorrow’s concession-stand customers, and turned left onto the path to the track.

Tomorrow this area would be full of prospective customers. Tonight it was quiet, despite the sounds of people settling in for the night. Dealers were sitting around two of the picnic tables. Several people were playing cards in the dim light and had tuned in the evening news on a small portable TV, and another group was talking and drinking beer. Between the vans and the cars people stood and talked, and occasionally you’d hear the sound of a laugh, or of a car door closing. A radio. A couple of people looked up and nodded as they walked past.

It’s another world, Maggie thought. She had never considered staying on the fairgrounds; a soft bed and a private shower had always been important to her. And women by themselves did not generally stay on the grounds. The atmosphere had changed dramatically from that of an hour or so ago, when everyone was dressed up and entertaining customers. Now it felt more like a late-night neighborhood barbecue.

Except that she and Ben were in search of a body, not an extra bag of chips or ice cubes.

Ben touched Maggie’s sleeve. “We have to go behind the buildings, toward the track.” The backs of the buildings were vented, but had no doors or windows. The buildings themselves blocked the light.

“That’s a funny place to leave a jacket, young man.” Will looked doubtful as Ben pointed to their left. “How did you even get onto the track? The gates are shut.”

Ben turned around and pointed at the gates. “I’m not very big, and the gates are loose. I squeezed between the doors and the fence. That’s how I got on and off the track to practice. I’m a good runner. I ran good tonight. Mud usually slows me down.”

“Where was the—jacket?” Maggie looked from side to side, but in the dim light she couldn’t see anything on the ground larger than two crushed soda cans, a partially eaten hot dog roll, and a few pieces of crumpled paper that had blown near the gate.

Ben walked off the pavement across a few yards of grass toward the back of the rest room building.

“Over here.” He gestured toward an area where a landscaper had planted some trees and bushes in an obvious attempt to add some country atmosphere to the otherwise treeless fairgrounds. Maggie could identify two or three white pines, at least one sugar maple, and several large azalea bushes whose pink flowers glowed eerily in the half-light.

Michael would have known all of these plants, she thought as she instinctively identified the shrubbery. Michael had loved gardening. But Michael wouldn’t have been looking for a body late at night on a New York State fairgrounds.

Ben was a few feet ahead of her, searching the ground.

“I’m sure he was here! I really am sure! I came out of that gate, and I ran about ten or twelve steps, and it was dark here…”

“He?” Will came up behind them. “Ben, I don’t see a jacket here. Who is ‘he’?”

The light from the buildings ended several feet from where the three of them were now standing. No dead or injured bodies were to be seen.

“I’m sure he was here! I’m sure!”

Maggie sighed. Will looked at her, waiting for her response.

“When Ben was leaving the track, he thought he saw two people back here.”

“I did! I saw that pretty lady in a green dress, and I saw a man. And they were really yelling!” Ben looked at Will. “I saw them! And I ran up because I thought he was going to hit the lady. And I pushed him. And he fell down. He was lying on the ground. And he didn’t get up. I tried to help him.” He thrust his hand in front of Will. “See? I have blood on my hand!”

“Whoa, just a minute. Young man, are you telling me you hit someone? And then you two came out here by yourselves to see if a man covered with blood was lying on the ground?”

Maggie and Ben nodded.

“And what did you have in mind to do if you’d found this…man?”

“I didn’t really lose my jacket, sir. I’m really careful with my jacket.”

“I’m sure you are. But not so careful about knocking people down!”

“But he was going to hit the lady! I know he was! And I wanted to help the lady.” Ben’s face showed his distress. “I’m telling the truth! I wanted to help! I didn’t mean to hurt him, really! And Maggie made up the story about the jacket. I didn’t lose my jacket.”

Will tried hard not to smile as he looked again at Maggie, who was subtly trying to survey the area to see if anything looked disturbed.

“Ladies sometimes say funny things, don’t they?”

“Why didn’t I think to bring a flashlight?” Maggie bent down and looked at the ground. “Ben, are you sure this is where the man fell?”

“Yes. At least I think so. It had to be here. But he’s not here now.”

Will shook his head. “I don’t believe we’re having this conversation. Maggie Summer, are you crazy? What if there
had
been a man here who was injured. Or worse? And just you and Ben to cope.”

Maybe Will was being sexist. Or maybe he was just being nice. Well, she could play the game, too.

“But nothing happened. And you’re with us, Will. And there are no bodies. In this light, and on this mud and grass, there’s no way to see anything clearly now.” She turned to Ben. “Maybe whoever it was just fell down. He had the breath knocked out of him, and after you left, he just got up and walked away.” She looked again at the area. If there had been a man here, he wasn’t here now. She gave Ben’s shoulder a squeeze. “He probably just picked himself up and went back to wherever he came from. How long did you stay here after you pushed him?”