Chapter 10
Roman
Roman watched her leaning on the wooden fence and took a moment to raise an imaginary hat to small-town living and familiar faces. The possibility of seeing Elenie Dax had been a consideration when he’d accepted the request to judge the fancy dress riding class at the town fair.
She was his way into the inner circle of the Dax family. If he stood any chance of getting the lowdown on Frank, it would have to be through her.
Face relaxed, she ran her eyes over the gaggle of children in costumes as they ran to their ponies, boosting themselves into the saddles and drifting out to ride in a wonky, egg-shaped circle. He hadn’t seen her out of her waitress’s uniform before and she looked like a summer’s day. Her cropped jeans were the palest blue, soft and worn like old favorites. She’d paired them with a simple tank top, striped in white and pale green. Elenie closed her eyes and lifted her face to the sun. He hesitated to disturb her.
“So, which one is your pick?”
His question startled her but she recovered quickly. Her arms, resting on the rail next to his own, remained slack but he didn’t miss the careful glance she shot over his shoulder. Roman tilted his head toward the children.
“It would be Jasper for me, I think.”
She pointed to a small boy dressed as a scarecrow. A row of cardboard carrots hung from each half of his reins.
“He’s adorable. Looks like he made his own costume, too. He lives with his grandparents—they’re nice people.”
Roman nodded thoughtfully, taking in the line of colorful competitors. One child was dressed as an astronaut and another couple were superheroes in capes and tights. In addition, there was a host of obligatory fairies, princesses, knights, and cowboys, all equipped with glitter, streamers, swords, or hats.
“Excuse me a moment.”
He ducked between the fence rails and strode across the grass.
Meeting Mrs. Magellan, the mayor’s wife, all smiles and primary colors, in the center of the circle, he took a large red rosette from her hands. She thanked him for coming with a squeeze of his elbow and a slightly alarming flick of her hair. Roman backed away to award the first prize to a delighted scarecrow. He rubbed his hand up and down the neck of Jasper’s pony and took a moment to ask the small boy a few questions.
Jasper had one of his own, pretty standard among kids of his age.
“How many people have you shot?”
“No one today,”
Roman replied seriously, and gave the boy a wink.
As he handed out the rest of the prizes, he was aware of Elenie, in the periphery of his vision, clapping among the gathered spectators. When he excused himself from the group and walked back to the fence, she didn’t even try to shut down the grin that broke over her face. It wasn’t huge and it was a little shy, but Roman almost missed his step when he saw it. It hit him like a bolt from an electric fence square in the chest, and maybe a little lower too.
The pull he felt toward her was unexpected, inconvenient, definitely unwise. The impulse to keep that light on her face was concerning.
“Ice cream or cotton candy? Or both? My treat,” he asked.
Elenie hesitated. Another glance, over her own shoulder this time.
“Please.”
He took a step away, hoping she’d follow if he gave her more space, and waited.
It took almost half a minute.
“I’ve always wanted to try cotton candy.”
“It’s so sweet it makes your teeth hurt. But a town fair’s not a town fair without it.”
A warm sliver of satisfaction slid between his ribs when she let go of the fence to walk by his side.
They wandered slowly through the milling crowd. Roman took in the surroundings and marveled at the contrast between a homicide shift and this casual afternoon on duty at the Pine Springs fair. The setting made Detroit seem like a distant chapter in his life. It was surreal.
But, even with the mingled scent of hot dogs and horseshit in his nose, he still had a job to do. And he needed to get Elenie Dax talking.
Digging deep into unfamiliar reservoirs of chatter, Roman told Elenie of other town fairs he remembered from the past, including when Milo had once eaten nine corn dogs and thrown up on his shoes.
“And not even that long ago either.”
She smiled and listened. He thought for a moment that she wasn’t going respond.
“Last year, Lilian Dankworth mistook dried garlic for coconut flakes,”
Elenie said eventually.
“and baked a cherry cake that stank out the food tent.”
A smartly dressed older man passed them, wearing a navy bucket hat and licking at a scoop of mint ice cream. He raised his cone in greeting, a warm smile on his lips.
“Good afternoon, my dear. How lovely to see you outside of the diner.”
“It’s closed this afternoon for the fair.”
Elenie flicked Roman a glance.
“Otto, have you met the new police chief?”
He stepped forward, hand outstretched.
“Roman Martinez.”
“A pleasure to meet you.”
The old man’s eyes were shrewd, his face friendly and his grip firm.
“Perhaps I could buy you a coffee the next time our paths cross in Elenie’s place of work?”
He leaned in.
“I can tell you where she’s buried the bodies . . .”
Roman chuckled.
“I’d very much like that. You’d save a lot of legwork.”
Elenie gave the old man a gentle shove with her elbow and he walked on, tipping his hat to them as he went. Roman thought how different her face looked when it was less guarded. Younger, happier. It tightened again when they skirted the beer stand and she turned her head away from a small group of preppy-looking guys standing under the awning. Her shoulders hunched a little. She put more distance between them. He ran his eyes over the men, fixing their faces in his mind.
Roman bought two huge sticks of cotton candy bigger than his head from a chirpy teenager with a cart, and passed one to Elenie with a flourish. Her smoky eyes flared as she popped a large pinch into her mouth.
“That is—so sweet! And kind of disgusting. But also, amazing!”
He couldn’t help the grin.
“An accurate assessment, eloquently put.”
A short, rounded woman with a tight crop of graying curls and bustling elbows turned from a stand selling local preserves to give them a hard look over her shoulder. Elenie and Roman were clearly the topic of conversation between her and Josephine Alberty, the Pine Springs librarian.
“That’s Elfrida Alberty and her daughter,”
murmured Elenie beside him. She took another pinch of her cotton candy.
He could see the resemblance now she’d pointed it out. Roman tilted his head and considered the options.
“Mrs. Alberty.”
He approached the women with an easy stride, offering the hand free of cotton candy to the older of the two.
“Roman Martinez—I’m the new police chief.”
Mrs. Alberty nodded grandly.
“Hello, Chief Martinez. This is my daughter, Josephine.”
“Yes, we’ve already met.”
Still holding Mrs. Alberty’s hand, Roman’s eyes dropped to her wrist and the familiar bracelet draped around it.
“What a coincidence that we should bump into each other when I was just talking to Elenie.”
He turned to beckon her forward.
“This is the kind lady from the diner who handed in your bracelet. I don’t know if you were aware of that?” Elfrida’s cheeks hollowed as if she were sucking a lemon. Josephine’s eyes darted from her mother to Roman and back again. “She came straight from Diner 43 to the station,” he continued with a hard smile, “and gave me a list of everyone she could remember seeing. I can only imagine how grateful you must feel to have your jewelry back, safe and sound. All because of Elenie here.” He held her eye and waited, folding his arms across his chest.
There was a long pause as various expressions warred with one another on Elfrida’s face. None of them were gratitude.
“Yes, indeed,”
she said finally.
“That was most kind. Thank you.”
The stupid woman still regarded Elenie with the same look she would give a maggot in her meatloaf, but she inclined her head stiffly and Roman decided to let it go.
“You’re very welcome.”
Elenie’s voice sounded strangled.
“Enjoy the fair!”
Roman called after the Albertys as they bustled away.
“Wow.”
A small smile quirked the corner of Elenie’s lips.
“You played her like a two-bit fiddle, Chief Martinez. Great job.”
The cotton candy was long gone, replaced by paper-wrapped soft pretzels, salty and still warm to the touch. Legs extended, they leaned up against a tree. Shadows were just beginning to stretch across the park, but the area around them was flooded with more people rather than less. It shocked Roman that the last hour had passed so quickly.
“Pennsylvania produces the most pretzels in the US. They eat the most, too. And there’s even a National Pretzel Day each year on 26 April.”
Elenie licked a salt flake from the corner of her mouth.
“And you know that how?”
He dragged his gaze away from her lips.
She shrugged.
“I read a lot, I look stuff up and I have a good memory. One day I’ll use it for more than food orders and takeout requests.”
Roman frowned, studying her long enough that Elenie colored and tore off another piece of pretzel. She was an unusual combination of interesting and different, but he could not afford to like someone with Elenie Dax’s background. That was so far past messy, it ventured into potential chaos. He was trying to get his life back on track, not derail it altogether. He pulled his professional reserve around him like a cloak and heard its echo in his voice.
“That kind of recall could be helpful if there was anything you wanted to tell me about your stepdad’s business. Or even about Millie Westlake.”
Elenie went as still as a wood frog in winter. Her fingers tightened around the remains of the pretzel, her hand poised on one bent knee.
“You give me the impression that you want more for yourself than a life of petty crime.”
Roman pushed a little harder.
“Can’t be easy living with a man like Frank Dax. Why do you do it, Elenie? Why don’t you leave?”
He watched her throat bob around a ragged swallow. She wiped her hand across her mouth. Carousel and folk music blended with the sounds of tractors and trucks. Happy screams came from the direction of the Ferris wheel, and the scent of dozens of different foods melded in the air. And Elenie Dax gradually withdrew from him until all the gentle animation had left her face.
Roman felt its loss with a sharp edge he didn’t like to examine.
“They still give a prize for the town’s largest pig,”
she told him eventually.
“I think I’ll go check it out.”
She screwed up the pretzel paper in her hand and climbed to her feet, looking around for the nearest trash can.
“Thanks for a nice afternoon, Chief Martinez.”
He sat on the ground for a full ten minutes after Elenie cut through the throng of people standing in line for bumper cars and disappeared out of sight. Somehow, she took all the pleasure of the fair with her.