Elena woke alone.
That morning, moving around the camp, her eyes darted constantly, looking for Bishop. No matter what, there was one thing that he was right about—they had to keep their heads down for a couple of months and the carnival was the perfect way to do that. If it meant living with a man she could barely stand, the least she could do was be pleasant about it. Being miserable wasn’t going to help anyone.
He had come to bed with an apology. She wanted to apologize back, as soon as she found him.
The only problem was, she never found him.
That afternoon, when she was getting ready to flip her sign over and start business for the evening, her heart jumped when she heard two quick raps and the door to her wagon open.
It was only Lean. He looked angry and mean. That was a good sign—Lean always looked angry and mean.
“Where’s your friend? He skip?”
“Who? Bishop? He had some errands to run today. He said he cleared it.”
It was a lie.
“Don’t bother lying for him,” Lean said.
She was the one who was supposed to be good at reading people, but Lean was clearly a master of the art as well. Elena didn’t respond. There was no sense in digging any further.
“I would bounce you both, but Chuck is missing as well. Chuck might have asked him to come along in that shitbox Ford. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re hoofing it back right now.”
“Plus, you did good coin last night. Keep it up and it won’t matter if Bish comes back.”
He glanced around the interior of the wagon. His eyes refused to settle. They weren’t finding what they were looking for. She wondered if maybe Lean was still trying to adjust to the loss of the Great Madame Vadoma.
“You see him—tell him I’m looking for him.”
Elena nodded again.