by Joyce
Chapter Twenty-one
I went back to the Dungeon to shower and get ready for the day. Chase was working. I had the apartment to myself. I had plenty of time, for once. I didn’t have to hurry.
I laid out my new violet-colored skirt and blouse. Chase had bought me a darker purple bodice to wear with it. I hummed some music I’d heard from the trio of musicians that had played at the museum opening as I got undressed. Despite everything, life at the Renaissance Faire was great, and I was the luckiest woman in the world to be there with Chase.
I went in the bathroom to shower, and when I came out, my clothes were gone.
I thought maybe I was so tired that I only thought I’d laid out the dress. I looked in the closet—it wasn’t there either. Then I thought Chase was back and playing games.
But a quick check of the apartment told me that I was alone. I even thought that Wanda had managed to get back inside. I called her name several times. It was just the kind of stunt she would pull.
But Wanda loved taking credit for the things she did. She didn’t answer my summons, and I had to give up on that idea too. What was going on?
I was angry that I couldn’t wear my new clothes, and determined to find out what had happened to them. I put my shorts and T-shirt back on and started slowly going through the apartment. Maybe I was so tired that I’d put the dress in another room and then missed it as I walked through.
Nope.
The whole event was really starting to bother me. My clothes didn’t magically disappear—although I thought anything was possible. But why my clothes, and my new clothes at that? It didn’t make sense.
I walked into the nursery that had been set up by the sorcerer who’d enlarged our apartment. Everyone seemed interested in Chase and I having a baby. The lovely sweet grass cradle that Mary Shift, the Gullah basket weaver had made, was there. There were a few other small things that friends had given us for that day in the future when we might consider having a child.
But no sign of my clothes.
I crossed the carpet to look out the window to the cobblestones below. I felt rather than heard the door to the room close behind me. I looked back, but I was alone.
Again, I saw Isabelle fall from the terrace. I could feel the rush of air on my skin. I fell to the floor with the same impression I’d seen in Isabelle’s dying eyes. A long skirt touched my arm, and then I lost consciousness.
* * *
“Jessie! Wake up!” Chase was leaning over me, shaking me and laughing. “I knew you were tired, but you can’t sleep now. The museum is open.”
My head hurt. I didn’t appreciate his humor. Why would he think I’d take a nap on the floor? “Someone was in the apartment. I think it was Isabelle. I saw her fall again, and I think she stole my new purple outfit.”
Chase had stopped laughing, but he was still smiling as he helped me up. “You mean the one you have laid out on the bed.”
I started to argue with him as we walked into the bedroom. There was my violet skirt and blouse with the dark purple bodice beside it. “What’s going on? I think Wanda was in here.”
“I don’t know. Manny opened the museum and then called to let me know that you didn’t show up. Are you okay?”
“No. I’m not okay. I don’t want to see Isabelle falling to her death the rest of my life. What does it mean? Why do I keep seeing it happen?”
“I can’t believe I’m going to say this—why don’t you get dressed and see if you can find Wanda? Maybe she figured out a way in here and you’re driving yourself crazy for nothing.” He kissed me. “I don’t know what we’ll do if she can go in and out again.”
I made him stay there while I finished dressing. It was almost eleven before we got on the cobblestones. I looked for Wanda, but I didn’t see her anywhere. Chase walked to the museum with me.
“I have to work with the jousters,” he said. “Will you be all right?”
“I’ll be fine.” I managed a snarky smile. “If that was Wanda, I want my money back on the apartment remodel from the sorcerer.”
Manny was happy to see me. I told him what had happened. He was more upset about it than Chase. “Perhaps you should call law enforcement.”
“I told Chase. That’s as close to law enforcement as I usually need to go.”
“And why didn’t he take it seriously?”
“Because he thinks it was Wanda. He could be right. I didn’t see anyone, but I know my clothes were missing when I came out of the bathroom. Then they were back when I looked again. Maybe the spell that kept Wanda out of the apartment wore off. It’s either that or I’m going crazy. I think I’d rather it be Wanda, but I’m not sure.”
He gazed critically at my face. “You do seem rattled. Perhaps some tea from Mrs. Potts would help. Honey is most healing too.”
“If you’re going, honey cookies would be most healing of all.” I smiled. “Thanks, Manny.”
He bowed elegantly. Two older women waiting to see Bill took Manny’s picture.
“I will never become accustomed to that,” he said.
“Then you shouldn’t do such cute Ren Faire things.”
He scowled as he left for the Honey and Herb Shoppe. I sat down on a chair near the door to give out information about Bill and his new shop to visitors coming into the museum.
Now that Bill had his elf mojo back, he was in great form again. He was flirting and laughing with the ladies as they tried on his boots. He told his stories about his shoemaker ancestors, including his story about Cinderella’s glass slippers.
“So my great-great grandfather says to Cinderella’s fairy godmother, ‘Why glass slippers? They could break and cut her feet.’ And the fairy godmother says, ‘Because they’ll make her big feet look smaller.’ Can you believe it?”
The women loved him. They laughed at his jokes and bought his boots like there were no other boots in the world. I didn’t know if he really had elf magic or not, but he believed it and thought it made him a better, more interesting person. That was all that mattered.
Manny returned with my tea and honey cookies. He was right too. I felt much better after I’d had them. Maybe my missing clothes were all in my head.
We closed the museum for lunch so all three of us could have a break. Bill was returning to his dart game that I’d interrupted at the pub. Though it still made me shudder to think about it, it was his life. I couldn’t keep him out of trouble all the time.
Chase, Manny, and I ate lunch at one of the outdoor picnic tables set in the shade of a huge magnolia tree. I was hoping Wanda might see us there and come by to laugh at what she’d done at the apartment that morning. But she didn’t show. I finally gave up and went back to work.
Afternoon crowds at the Village were always morning beach people who came in bikini tops and smelled like sun block. I thought they were probably bored with the ocean and looking for something else to do. I was glad that they’d chosen us instead of shopping on the boardwalk.
Everyone loved Bill and bought so many pairs of sandals that I had to send out for more materials to keep him going.
“This exhibit has done extremely well,” Manny said as we surveyed the crowd who watched Bill at his table. “We should have no problem getting a new exhibit.”
“I kind of promised Luke Helms at the pipe shop that we’d host him here next. I’ll have to run that by Adventureland and see what they think. But I like the idea. It’s good to exhibit some of the items made by the older residents too.”
“I saw him at the Honey and Herb Shoppe. He seems to be spending a lot of time there. Mrs. Potts was sitting with him. I believe they were holding hands.”
“I was right! Maybe that’s my gift. Madame Lucinda said I have a gift. I was hoping it wasn’t anything to do with dead people.”
“Why on earth would you think that?”
I told him about my encounter with Isabelle in the castle garden. “All that, and I don’t think I learned anything from her. Detective Almond is investigating Ri
ta now. She admits that she didn’t call 911 right away after she found Isabelle in the garden. I don’t think she’s a killer.”
“But how can you be sure? You said both women wanted the red-haired gentleman. Perhaps they fought over him.”
“I don’t know. Rita could have been the killer and made it look like someone beat her up, but I’ve known her for a long time. She’s just not that kind of person.”
Manny shook his head. “People will do wonderful and terrible things when they are in the throes of passion. You might know Rita when she is herself. You might not recognize her as a woman in love.”
I thought about what he’d said the rest of the afternoon. As usual, the day was hot, and we had a quick shower around four p.m. Almost all of the visitors stayed in the Village until the rain had passed. The storm ruined a few of the more outlandish costumes worn by our wannabe actors. If they couldn’t stand up to a little rain, they probably wouldn’t make it.
The Main Gate closed at six with all the usual fanfare. The visitors leaving that afternoon received a special treat—a visit from King Harold, Queen Olivia, and Princess Pea. They were accompanied by both their retinues, and were in full royal gear. Their ladies and gentlemen gave out a few hundred free passes to the King’s Feast on Sunday evening. Most visitors were thrilled to see the royal family and even more excited to receive the free passes.
“Any sign of Wanda yet?” Chase asked as he joined me on the museum stairs overlooking the crowds at the gate.
“Nope. It’s been quiet—except for the legions of Bill’s fans. He’s going to be a hit here, as long as he keeps his elf magic.”
He sat beside me. “You think he really has magic?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think. He believes, and he’s better with it. I think we sold a thousand pairs of sandals to the afternoon beach-bunny crowd.”
“That’s great. Adventureland is going to know that you can pick great exhibits.”
We watched as the crowds slowly dwindled away. Visitors found their transportation home and went their separate ways. Residents began drifting to their homes for the evening. There was a rhythm to life here, as odd as it might be.
Chase’s radio went off. There was a small child on top of the rock-climbing wall. No one knew how he got up there, especially not his alarmed parents.
Chase and I exchanged looks—“Wanda!” we both yelled at once.
We raced across the cobblestones to reach the wall. A sizable group of residents and visitors had lingered there to watch the drama.
While Chase began the climb up the wall to get the crying toddler, I searched the crowd. “Wanda?” I whispered her name. “Are you here? Show yourself.”
It only took a moment. She appeared to me with a sly smile on her blue face. “Don’t tell me you’re finally warming up to me, Jessie. After all this time. All I had to do was die to have you like me.”
“I knew you’d be here. What’s with putting the kid up there?”
She stared at Chase as he climbed the wall. “Don’t you love a little drama as the Village is closing? I know I do. The perfect end to a perfect day.”
I shook my head. I was never going to change, or understand her. “How did you get back into my apartment?”
“What are you talking about? I haven’t been in there since I was banished.”
“You were there this morning. You moved my clothes, and made me have that vision of Isabelle again. Don’t deny it. How did you do it?”
Her ghastly blue face turned serious. “You should get out of this sun, Jessie. You’re obviously overheated. I didn’t get into your apartment—even though the entire event you’ve described sounds like enormous fun. Perhaps your other ghostly friend, Princess Isabelle, is responsible. Two ghosts might be more than you can handle and stay sane. See you later.”
She disappeared as a loud Huzzah! went up from the crowd. Chase had reached the child on the wall and was bringing him down safely.
I believed Wanda about her not being in the apartment. I didn’t know who else would do such a thing, or why, but I knew her well enough to know she would have rubbed my face in the fact that she’d managed to break through the spell.
Knowing it wasn’t her didn’t make me feel any better. Wanda was annoying, but at least I understood her. Wondering who else would go to such lengths to scare me was worse. What was going on?
Chapter Twenty-two
The boy was brought safely to the ground. His alternately crying and laughing parents hugged him and kissed him. There were several rounds of Huzzahs! The security guards escorted the remaining visitors to the Main Gate.
As usual, there were a handful of teenagers who’d managed to stay beyond closing time. There were thousands of places to hide in the Village. Some managed not to be seen until morning. Chase never liked when that happened.
He had another meeting with the security guards before dinner. I decided to go to the castle and take another look around the garden and Isabelle’s suite. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for. It just seemed to me if there were answers to be found, they’d be there.
Gus wasn’t at the castle gate again. It wasn’t like him to shirk his gatekeeping responsibilities. I didn’t plan to mention it to Chase, though, since I knew what was going on. Gus had a right to his own life. Who knew how long this affair of his would last anyway?
I started in the garden. I knew the police and Village security had thoroughly searched this area. There probably wasn’t anything left to find. But the scene between Isabelle and Rita haunted me. Manny was right about not knowing a person until you had seen them in love or some other emotional circumstance. I was sure Rita had reacted to Isabelle in a way she would have normally never considered. There was still a chalk outline of Isabelle’s stricken form on the stones. The police had made sure everyone knew where it had happened. The reminder would be gone when the maintenance crew cleaned the patio again. For now, it was a terrible tribute.
I looked at the outline and then up at the terrace. Rita and Dwayne were both physically capable of lifting Isabelle and throwing her into the garden. So was Bill for that matter.
Who else was strong enough to do the deed and had a reason to kill Isabelle?
I already knew that Isabelle’s retinue was accounted for during that time. It was hard to imagine any of her ladies having the strength to lift her. There were a few jugglers and fools who were always hanging around. Maybe it was one of them.
The garden was close to Gus’s post at the castle gate. I heard him return, slightly drunk, if his voice was any indication. Curiosity made me wonder who he was seeing outside the castle. It was unusual not to have heard any gossip regarding his romance. Everyone knew even when the romance stayed behind the castle walls. He’d done a good job hiding it if he was seeing someone who lived in the Village.
I walked through the castle and upstairs to Isabelle’s suite. It was dark and empty. I switched on the light. Already changes were being made. There were gallons of pink paint for the walls, and boxes containing Isabelle’s personal items. It was a lovely suite of rooms—not surprising that Princess Pea would take them.
No one had touched the closets yet. Isabelle’s clothes were still neatly stored away. Her large bed was still in place too. Those would probably be the next things to go.
I searched through everything that was left—Isabelle’s hairbrush, jewelry, and other small intimate items. I opened one of her drawers and found several slutty magazines. Did anyone really know Isabelle? She’d been a pretend princess here for so long. Did she remember who she really was?
I felt something move past me and jumped back a foot or two. My heart was pounding when I saw a dark burgundy gown that had been in the closet just a moment before. It was set out on the bed as though invisible hands had been getting it ready for Isabelle to change clothes.
It reminded me too much of what had happened at the apartment. I felt cold all over and turned to leave.
Dresses, royal ball gow
ns, riding and street clothes began to move around the room. The material rushed by from the closets to the bed. Some of the garments struck me as I tried to reach the door. The clothes heaped themselves on top of the burgundy gown. They were joined by undergarments, hats, and shoes.
Inside the colorful whirl of clothing, I stifled a scream as I reached the door to the suite.
It wouldn’t open. I jerked at it again and again, but it wouldn’t budge. I set my back against it, and watched in fascinated horror as the closets emptied themselves on the bed.
“Isabelle! Why are you doing this? What are you trying to tell me?”
There was no reply, and no glowing vision of her. The clothes and accessories kept flying out of the closets and drawers. I didn’t understand what she was trying to say. Leave it to her to try to tell me something important with clothes!
“Okay. Clothes. Something about laying out clothes. You want to tell me about your clothes. Is it what you want done with them? Is there something special about your clothes?”
No answer. The clothes that had been in the air on their way to the bed suddenly dropped to the carpet. Maybe I’d correctly guessed some part of the puzzle. I searched frantically through my mind trying to figure out what it was. “I’ll help if you tell me what you want.”
That was wrong too. The clothes that had been on the bed started coming toward me. I was pelted with satin, lace, velvet, and leather. It only took a few seconds before I was covered in clothing. The shoes kind of hurt as they smacked me.
“All right. That’s not what you wanted,” I yelled in frustration. “I don’t do signs and omens. Please make it plainer for me. You know what you want to say. I don’t.”
The clothes stopped again. That was a relief. I battled my way out from under them—a six-foot heap of materials that slid down the door when I moved.
The only thing left on the bed was the burgundy gown. It was perfectly laid out with underwear, shoes, and stockings.
I studied it, but I still didn’t get it. Did she want me to wear the gown? It wasn’t the gown that she was wearing when she’d died.
