“Madame Persephone’s fortunes often befuddle and overwhelm those who are not… prepared,” the man intoned solemnly as he unstrung the velvet rope and gestured for the big-eyed teen in front to take her turn. “Take heed. Consider your questions wisely.”
“I have!” the girl squeaked as she scuttled through. “Promise.”
Ledger stepped away. He looked at the cards scrunched in his hand, and whatever the answer was scratched harder.
A teenager carrying a stuffed… dingo?… taller than Ledger bumped into him, bounced off, and muttered an apology through a mouthful of plush fur. Next to him, the carnie running the hoopla whooped and cheerfully teased the big, mean-mouthed man trying to throw a plastic ring around a wallet.
“Come on, man!” the carnie coaxed. He reached over and tapped the sign on the front of the stall. “Four for the price of three. Two more tries for the price of one.”
The man’s temples were an unhealthy red as he turned his pockets out for change. “How did you evengetmy wallet?” he demanded as he threw the coins at the game.
“Don’t know what you mean,” the carnie said smoothly as he tossed two rings back. “Good luck!”
It would probably, Ledger decided, be easier to think if he got off the midway. He started back down toward the entrance, going against the tide of people on their way in. As he passed the carousel—the children now replaced with teenagers on the horses—he looked back at the pictures.
The Lover was Wren.
Ledger wasn’t sure how much use that bit of insight into things he’d been trying not to think about would be as far as keeping him alive went. He tucked the card away safely anyhow. That left Death. Unless the cards had been telling him he might as well give up, he wasn’t sure what it was meant to represent either.
He studied it for a minute longer and then gave up after a child on a lead and her distracted dad nearly clotheslined him. Death went into his back pocket too. When he looked up, he saw Hark sitting on a bench outside the carousel, shoulder to shoulder with a fed-up-looking teenager who had one eye on the ride and the other on his phone. When Hark saw Ledger recognize him, he got up, left his hot dog on the bench, and jerked his head for Ledger to follow.
Hark stalked away, his head down and shoulders hunched, and Ledger—after one last look around for Wren—followed him.
* * *
“Doesit know you’re talking to me?” Hark asked.
They’d stopped in the parking lot. It had filled up since Ledger arrived and was crowded with station wagons and SUVs. The lights from the carnival, a thousand red and blue and yellow bulbs set to chaser, reflected off glass windshields and polished paintwork.
Hark smelled. It was nothing to do with Ledger’s knack, just the stink of day-old BO and fear. It looked like he hadn’t slept in… about the same amount of time as Ledger.
Ledger didn’t have alotof room left for new emotions—fear and not thinking about fear took up a lot of space—but he felt a pinch of guilt shove in there.
Hark had brought this on himself, but death or madness wasn’t a proportionate punishment for being a greedy asshole.
“Earl?” Ledger said. “No. I keep him on an information diet.”
That didn’t seem to comfort Hark any. He shifted his weight anxiously from one foot to the other and rubbed the back of his neck anxiously as he looked around. His eyes darted from car to shadow to car again.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I can feel him here. He’s always there. Aways behind me. Whenever I look back, I see him. In the shadows or a car or… He’s following me and waiting for something. I just don’t know what.”
Ledger put his hand on Hark’s shoulder. The jacket felt clammy to the touch, sweated in.
“Look,” Ledger said. “You tell me what you found out about Violet, and that’s it. We’re square. OK?”
The whole lens of Hark’s glasses was covered with smudges, distinct enough Ledger could see the whorl of fingerprints. He took them off and polished them on his tie. It didn’t really help with the state of the tie, but from the look of him, Hark was running on habit and adrenaline now.
“You swear?” Hark said. He looked like he was going to cry. “You won’t tell it my name? You won’t tell it where I live?”
“I won’t,” Ledger said. He didn’t cross his heart because he might have been lying. Under duress, he had the feeling he’d tell Earl anything. “You can forget all about Earl.”
“I won’t,” Hark said in a small, broken voice. “No one could.”
Hark slid his glasses back on and seemed to get some of his old attitude with them. “I made some calls to some old friends at Cabots and then told a few lies. They were able to put me in touch with some of Violet’s friends. According to them, she bought an old security deposit box last time they were there. It had a bunch of old documents and a crucifix in it. She thought it was the key to something.”
“And?”
Hark took another twitchy look around and gestured for Ledger to follow him.
