pretzels and ice cream, nachos, cinnamon rolls. He saw babies in strollers and remembered again that Erin wanted to have a baby. He decided he would give her one. A girl or a boy, it didn’t matter, but he preferred a boy because girls were selfish and wouldn’t appreciate the life he gave them. Girls were like that.
People talked and whispered all around him and he thought some of them were staring at him, like Coffey and Ramirez used to do. He ignored them, focused on his search. Families. Teens with their arms around one another. A guy in a sombrero. A couple of the carnival workers stood near a streetlight, smoking. Thin and tattooed, with bad teeth. Probably drug users, with long records. They gave him a bad feeling. He was a good detective and knew how to read people and he didn’t trust them but they did nothing as he brushed past them.
He veered left and right, working his way steadily through the crowd, studying people’s faces. He paused while an overweight couple waddled past him, eating corn dogs, their faces red and blotchy. He hated fat people, thought they were weak and had no discipline, people who complained about their blood pressure and diabetes and heart problems and whined about the cost of medicine, but couldn’t summon the strength to put the fork down. Erin was always thin but her breasts were big and now she was here with another man who fondled them at night and the thought made him burn inside. He hated her. But he wanted her, too. Loved her. It was hard to keep it straight in his head. He’d been drinking too much and it was just so damn hot. Why had she moved to a place as hellish as this?
He wandered among the carnival rides and noticed the Ferris wheel up ahead. He moved closer, bumping into a man in a tank top, ignoring his muttered outrage. He checked the seats on the ride, his gaze flashing on every face. Erin wasn’t there, or in the line, either.
He moved on, walking in the heat among the fat people, looking for skinny Erin and the man who touched her breasts at night. With every step, he thought about the Glock.
The swings, spinning clockwise, were a big hit with the kids. They’d ridden them twice in the morning, and after the Ferris wheel Kristen and Josh begged to ride them once more. There were only a few tickets left and Alex agreed, explaining that after this last ride they would have to go home. He wanted to have time to shower and eat and maybe relax before he had to drive to Raleigh.
Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t stop thinking about Katie’s earlier suggestive remark. She seemed to sense the direction of his thoughts, because he’d caught her staring at him a number of times, a provocative smile playing at the corner of her lips.
Now she stood beside him, smiling up at the kids. He scooted closer, slipping his arm around her, and felt her lean into him. He said nothing, for there was no need for words, and she said nothing, either. Instead, she tilted her head, resting it against his shoulder, and Alex was struck by the notion that there was nothing better in the world.
Erin wasn’t at the tilt-a-whirl or the maze of mirrors or the haunted house. He watched from the ticket line, trying to blend in, wanting to see her before she spotted him. He had the advantage because he knew she was here and she didn’t know about him, but sometimes people got lucky and strange things happened. He flashed on the memory of Karen Feldman and the day she revealed Erin’s secret.
He wished he hadn’t left his vodka in the car. There didn’t seem to be anywhere to buy more, not a bar in sight. He hadn’t even seen a booth selling beer, which he didn’t like but would have bought if he had no other choice. The smell of food made him nauseated and hungry at the same time and he could feel the sweat plastering his shirt to his back and armpits.
He walked by the games of chance, run by con artists. Waste of money because the games were rigged, but morons packed around them. He searched faces. No Erin.
He wandered toward the other rides. There were kids in bumper cars, people fidgeting in the line. Beyond that were the swings, and he started