“Caren,” she says, smiling prettily, dropping napkins on our table. “Will that be it for now?”
Will nods with a grin that makes both the girl and me blush, and Caren leaves, flying over to the bar.
When she’s gone, Will’s pocket watch comes out. Ten until eight. “See him, Hela?”
Agnata is slow on the uptake, but finally begins to carefully sweep the tavern. Her lips flatten into a line as she concentrates, running her eyes over faces in profile and full-front view, the backs of heads, the cut and hunch of shoulders.
“Well?” Sofie demands as Agnata’s eyes bounce aroundthe room for the third time.
I have to admit, I’m impatient too—we have to identify him before the buyer does. Or before anyone recognizes us. The longer we sit here, the more likely someone is to spot us despite the changes we made to our hair and clothing.
“I—I’m not sure.”
“Well, what does he look like?”
“Brown hair, blue eyes, stocky build.”
Sofie sighs. “That describes literally half the bar,Hela.”
“How did you find him so quickly earlier in the day?” I whisper. “Your turnaround time to give it to him after Will and I were knocked out couldn’t have been much.”
“Frigg has a point,” Will says.
“I can’t believe I let you out of my sight,” Sofie mumbles.
“I’m sorry, okay? I thought we were on the same side, Sofie. But look, it was empty in here this morning, and he was in his guard’s uniform. No one in here is wearing one,” Agnata whispers.
A minute more ticks by as we search around the room for someone in the blue of Øldenburg Castle, or with brown hair and blue eyes and a particularly expectant look on his face.
“Ah, Caren, excellent service!” Will chirps, and we all automatically smile as the server returns, depositing four glasses of summer wine garnished with slivers of orange.
Pressing a lock of hair behind her ear, she whispersclose enough to him that I nearly lean back, her grinning profile looming right in front of mine. “So kind of you, sir. My regulars aren’t so complimentary anymore.”
Will smiles tightly. “Well, they should be. Are there many regulars here?”
“Oh, of course. The wedding crowd is gone, and it’s back to just the locals squatting on their stools like they own them. And then there’s you—though you look familiar.”
Will’s smile doesn’t waver. “I’m afraid I’ve never been here before.”
“Hey, girl!” a man calls from near the door, and Caren’s head whips around. Four men hard with ocean life gape at her, the cups on their table empty and ready for more.
As she runs off, Will takes a deep sip of his wine. “Hela, what seat was Møller in this afternoon?”
Agnata’s eyes skip over to the bar. “Second from the right.”
There is indeed a man with brown hair of stocky build sitting there. “Frigg,” he says to me. “Why don’t you and Hela inquire at the bar about the loo?”
I stand and take Agnata’s hand, leaving Will and Sofie behind. We skirt through the crowd, steering our way to the bar. Caren is there. I face her, smile up and ready, as Agnata looks around, supposedly for a sign, but she’s really inspecting the man’s face.
“Caren, I should’ve asked earlier, but where is—”
“Agnata, you’re too early!”
Oh no.
The man in the second seat is red-faced, and hvidtøl sloshes over his cup as he turns his whole body toward us. That’s when I see the ring on his hand. His knuckles are bulbous from work, and with the smaller size made for Sofie’s fingers, it only fits on his pinkie, above the second knuckle.
“I haven’t sold the damn thing yet, kœreste. Greedy, girl, aren’t you?” He laughs far too loud, and despite the music and merriment, I feel half the eyes in the room turn to us.
