by Joyce
“As long as they don’t expect you to deliver it and don’t let Wanda Le Fey near it, at least the baby should be fine.” I sipped some cold ale and remembered that Father Christmas also wanted some with his turkey leg.
“I get the whole bad-blood thing between you and Wanda, but why would it be bad for me to deliver the baby? I have emergency medical training.”
I shivered when I thought about Wanda—the Village’s resident nurse—and all the evil things she’d done to me in the past. Her cold blue eyes affected me even when she wasn’t around. “I think Livy would take it the wrong way if you deliver her baby.”
“You mean she’d want to name the baby after me, that kind of thing?”
“No.” I stole his last two French fries. “I think she’d feel like you two were having a relationship. You know how she is that way. Having a baby is a very intimate thing.”
He laughed. “I think motherhood has changed her. Just watch her for a while. She’s a different woman.”
“You mean since Harry announced the baby was his and he wouldn’t demand a paternity test? I wouldn’t call that change exactly. Just a reprieve.”
He shook his head, the light from the window near us catching on the gold ring in his ear. “What about you? I guess the car made it down here. I wish you would’ve let me come and get you. Have you heard anything about your job?”
“Mostly that it probably won’t exist in January. Everybody has to make cuts. I seem to be one of those. And don’t ask about the apartment. I moved everything into storage. Not that there was much to move.”
I tried not to fixate on the fact that I was almost thirty-five and had so little. Outside of a few old posters and a table that had belonged to my grandmother, who’d raised me and my brother after our parents’ deaths, everything else had gone to Goodwill. Nothing in that small space had meant much to me. It seemed as though my whole life was here in the Village with Chase.
“I don’t want to make you feel that I’m pushing you into something, but you know you can stay here. I know it’s not the same as living away, but you love it here. I’d love you to be here all the time.”
It wasn’t my favorite subject. My plan was still to get my doctorate and move up the ranks of academia until I could afford a new car and a better apartment. I’d tried not to let my focus wander too far beyond that goal.
“I appreciate that.” I held his hand on the table and looked into his beautiful brown eyes that reminded me of dark, sweet chocolate. “But I’ve worked too hard just to let it all go. I can’t give up when I’m so close.”
He shrugged. “You could work on it here, Jessie. Everyone works online now.”
“I’ll think about it. Thank you for offering.”
“You know I’m not just saying it because you need somewhere to go. I love you. Stay here with me. You can get as many doctorates as you want to. You won’t ever have to worry about anything again.”
I was about to start crying. I loved him, too, and wanted to stay there, but I wasn’t sure my plans would work out if I did. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to lean on Chase and his wealthy family. Well, maybe it was. I wanted to do this on my own. I wanted to be able to take care of myself, and occasionally my brother, Tony. I knew it didn’t make any sense, except to me.
“I have to go.” I got to my feet, almost knocking my empty ale mug off the table. “I’ll think about it. Really. But I better get that turkey leg back to my new boss. I’ll see you later.”
I ran out of the Pleasant Pheasant with my cardboard container of ale. I didn’t want to imagine what Chase must think. How many times had I turned him down? Would he get tired of it one day and never ask again?
I wanted to stay on course, stay focused. I needed to know that even if Chase and I broke up, I could take care of myself. I didn’t want to be like my mother when my dad left her—like wet gingerbread. I had to finish my doctorate. Then I could think about being with Chase all the time.
I looked at the old sundial outside the Pleasant Pheasant. Father Christmas would think I’d changed my mind about making toys since I’d been gone almost two hours after we’d had to break for lunch. I had to do better than that if I wanted to keep my apprenticeship.
I hailed a turkey leg vendor wearing a bright green mob cap and matching gown. I recognized her from another position she’d had in the Village. “Is that you, Arlene?”
“Yes!” She smiled brightly, then frowned. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember your name. You used to work in the castle kitchen, right?”
“Yes. I’m Tony’s sister, Jessie. You were Lady Godiva.”
“That was me—two kids ago. My husband makes flutes. He’s opening a shop here over the holiday, and we’ll see how it goes. I just wanted to do something to help out with expenses. Nothing that requires a skin-colored body suit, but turkey legs are good.”
“I’m glad you’re back.” I took the large roasted leg and paid her. “Did you ever think you’d come back here to live with your husband someday?”
“No. Not really. This never seemed real to me, you know? But it’s probably a good place to be a flute maker. Where else would you get this kind of traffic?”
We said good-bye and I continued past the Dutchman’s Stage and Peter’s Pub. Maybe I was wrong to be so harsh on people who chose to live here. It didn’t matter to Chase—but he was also a patent attorney who made money doing online research for his clients. I wasn’t sure where a history professor would fit in with jugglers, fire-eaters, and shepherds, even with a doctorate.
I waved to Andre Hariot at the Hat House. He was decked out festively in a gold and red tunic with matching gold tights. His hat was a thing to behold—a creation of red berries, gold garland, and some kind of evergreen that draped down close to one of his eyes. Andre was an extraordinary hatmaker.
The crowd had paid full-price entrance to the Village to see Father Christmas. They were still milling around playing games, having their fortunes read, and eating. Knife throwers were showing off their skills, and the pirate ship, Queen’s Revenge, was shooting off its cannon on Mirror Lake. It wasn’t like the visitors wouldn’t get their money’s worth while they waited.
I finally reached the third manor house of Squire’s Lane where the toy workshop was located. The front door at the top of the stairs was closed. There were no lights on inside. I went back down to the basement door and managed to knock despite the cardboard cup of ale and greasy, napkin-wrapped turkey leg I was holding. No lights were on inside here either, but the door was open. I went in to take a look around.
The workshop was filled with hundreds of toys of every kind. They were stacked on shelves, spilling out of crates, and lying half finished on long worktables. Most of them were hand carved, but by so deft a hand that the figures, animals, trains, and cars, almost came to life. Some of them were in the process of being painted. Others were in the wood-finishing stage. The workshop smelled of wet paint and sawdust, exactly what I’d expected.
“Hello?” I called out into the large, shadowed room. “Is anyone here?”
I heard a sound behind me. I turned my head just in time to have a crashing blow hit me hard on the side of my face. I went down like a wet deck of cards, turkey leg, ale, and all. I didn’t see who’d hit me, but I heard him or her run from the workshop, slamming the door behind them.
My head was swimming. I was conscious but couldn’t move from the spot on the floor where I’d fallen. I looked to the side. Something large and burgundy velvet covered lay close beside me. I sat up, dizzy and light-headed, sick to my stomach. There was no mistaking those hand-tooled boots or the regal gold embroidery on the costume.
Father Christmas’s happy holidays were over.
Three
Detective Donald Almond was assigned to the Village from the Myrtle Beach Police Department. He was a big man with a chin that folded into his neck, and he always looked like he needed a haircut and a shower. His clothes appeared to be ones he’d slept in the night bef
ore.
He shook his head as he came into the workshop. “Jessie Morton. Why am I not surprised? Is your middle name trouble?”
I didn’t move my head since the ice and three pain relievers were barely keeping my headache down to a dull roar. I was going to have a heck of a bruise on the side of my face, too. “Believe me, it wasn’t my idea to be here for this.”
I’d called security as soon as I could. Chase and two of his men had rushed over. They’d tried to revive Father Christmas. No use. The paramedics came, and Chase called Detective Almond right away.
“And whose idea was it to mess around with the victim?” Detective Almond asked as he walked around the room looking at the toys and tools scattered everywhere. “It never helps to change the scene of the crime. You’ve probably destroyed evidence that might have led to our killer.”
“That was my decision.” Chase shifted from where he’d been sitting on the floor with my aching head on his lap. “We didn’t know if he was alive. I wanted to give him the chance to survive.”
“And how’d that work out for you?” Detective Almond sneered.
“He couldn’t be revived. He’d been gone too long.” Chase smiled at me in a sad way. “Whoever did this knocked Jessie down as he or she was leaving. It hasn’t been that long since it happened. Chris was still warm.”
Detective Almond nodded, taking it all in. “Anything else suspicious? I mean besides that bullet hole in his neck.”
“What’s going on?” Christine stormed into the room. “Where’s my husband? What have you done with him?”
“And who are you?” Detective Almond asked.
“I’m his wife! I demand that you let me see him.”
“I’m sorry. He was killed, ma’am. We’ll be investigating his death.” Though Detective Almond’s words were forthright, his tone was apologetic. “I’m afraid he’ll have to be taken to the morgue for an autopsy. This room will have to be cut off from the rest of the Village until we figure out what happened—unless you have something to share.”
Christine lost her anger. She stared at the bloodstain still on the concrete floor where her husband had breathed his last. The paramedics still stood next to his body, covered by a black bag, at the side of the room. The reality of it seemed to strike her. She didn’t say anything else. Her lips trembled.
Detective Almond nodded to one of the three men he’d brought with him. “Officer Duncan will take you to the morgue, ma’am. We’ll have some questions for you, too, I’m afraid. But he’ll bring you back again when it’s over. I’m truly sorry for your loss.”
“What about my children?” she muttered hoarsely as she started to follow the officer.
“I’ll take care of them.” The words were out of my mouth before I’d really thought about what I was saying. My head was throbbing and I still felt sick. How was I going to take care of them? I grabbed Chase’s arm. “We’ll take care of them until you get back. Don’t worry.”
“We?” Chase looked surprised.
“Before you two go off to fluff your nest,” Detective Almond added, “I need to talk to you outside a minute, Manhattan. Jessie, don’t forget I want to see you at the station ASAP. Make sure she gets there.” He nodded sternly at Chase.
“I’ll make sure she’s there,” Chase promised, equally solemn.
Sometimes he took his bailiff persona a little too seriously.
Detective Almond had the other two officers stay in the room with the paramedics while he and Chase walked outside to talk. I didn’t know what to do—I didn’t want to interrupt them.
I needed to find the children. Someone should tell them what had happened before they saw a tweet or some other Internet posting about it. I assumed Jolly must know since he’d been with Christine. My heart ached for them.
On a selfish note, I couldn’t believe the toy maker was gone before I’d even managed to mangle one toy. It had to be my shortest apprenticeship ever.
I found the bathroom in the back of the workshop and washed my face. I was right. There was going to be a major bruise on my face.
As I finished looking at myself in the mirror, I noticed a bit of bright green fluff caught in my earring on the side that had gotten hit. With a gentle tug, I pulled the fluff off the earring and looked at it—it was felt. Of course, bright green felt wasn’t much of a clue right now. Everyone in the Village was wearing it as part of their costumes. It even matched the elf costume I’d been wearing earlier when I was helping out with the Father Christmas photos.
But I’d changed back into jeans and a sweater after I’d gone back to the Dungeon. I wasn’t officially working yet. It definitely wasn’t from my costume. The color was easy to spot.
It had probably come from the person who’d mowed me down trying to get out of the workshop after killing Chris. I had to decide whether to turn it over to Detective Almond. Not much of a decision. It might be better if I hung on to it. He tended to ignore me.
Chase and Detective Almond came back into the workshop. Detective Almond told his men to stay there. A crime scene unit and transport for the body was on its way. “Don’t worry,” he told Chase. “I don’t expect you to do all the heavy lifting on this, Manhattan. I’ll try to find some men I can send in undercover to keep an eye out. But you know what happened last time I sent someone in.”
I knew. The undercover officer had gone rogue and become a pirate. I wasn’t surprised that Detective Almond was reluctant to take that risk again. Many people who came here to do a normal job ended up in costume permanently.
“That’s fine,” Chase said. “But I can already see the publicity for this—Santa killed at Renaissance Village. And whether I like it or not, Adventure Land won’t discourage the crowds who want to see where it happened.”
Detective Almond shrugged. “We all have our crosses to bear, son. Do the best you can.”
Merry Beth looked around the corner of the doorway. “Is everything okay down here? Where are Mom and Daddy?”
I almost broke down at that point. Seriously, all of those kids losing their father. They were so young. And what an awful mom substitute I was, hanging out there looking at green fluff while those poor kids were wandering around the Village.
I took Merry Beth’s hand. She looked at me a little strangely, but I held on. “If you two are done talking, Chase and I need to get all the kids together. They shouldn’t just be out there alone.”
“We’re fine, Jessie,” Merry Beth assured me with that impressive maturity. “We do this all the time when Daddy travels. Aren’t my Mom and Jolly back from the store yet?”
“Go on,” Detective Almond said. “Take care of things. We’ll talk again later.”
Chase and I walked out into the late afternoon sunshine with Merry Beth. I wasn’t even sure where to start to look for the other kids. The Village was a big place. They could be anywhere.
But they weren’t too far away. They’d been waiting outside the workshop for their sister.
I wasn’t sure how much to tell them. I knew the news would be all over the Village in a short time. But I didn’t want to take something away from what their mother would say. Still, they had the right to know where she was and what had happened, even if it was only the basics.
“Something has happened to your father,” I said as we stood together outside the manor houses. “Your mother is trying to find out what she should do. She’ll be back soon. You’ll be with Chase and me until she gets back.”
“Something like what?” Garland asked quietly. “Is he sick?”
“He’s probably been fooling around again,” Jolly answered. “This is what it’s usually like when that happens. We don’t see him for a while, then he and Mom make up. We all go away somewhere else again.”
“You don’t know that for sure,” Merry Beth said. “We shouldn’t judge until we know.”
The next boy down in age, Nick, shrugged and walked away from the group. The four youngest sisters, Joy and Star (obviously twins about six or
seven) and Faith and Holly (three and four, maybe?) stood together holding hands.
“The Main Gate is closing early because of what happened so they can get the body out,” Chase said. “Why don’t we go down to the other end of the Village. They’ll be feeding the camels and elephants soon. You could help if you like.”
Even Jolly was excited by that idea. I smiled at Chase as we left word with the police officer standing guard over the crime scene. Christine would know where the kids were when she got back. We took a walk down the cobblestones.
Chase would make an incredible father, I decided, though I wasn’t sure if he would ever want the job. His own family was a little dysfunctional, like mine. I certainly never thought much about having my own children.
Tom, Tom the Piper’s Son was in the middle of practicing stealing a piglet close to the manor house. A Village madman was counting up his take after having spent the day begging for spare change from the crowd while beating his pot with a large wooden spoon. Two ladies, dressed in the height of Renaissance fashion, went by with only a spare glance for Chase.
Their expressions had changed when they saw that he was with his large family and wife.
Life in the Village went on. By nightfall, everyone would know that Chris Christmas had been found dead in his workshop. No doubt it would put a pall on festivities, even though he was just a visiting resident.
“Who do you think killed him?” I asked Chase quietly as we passed the Dutchman’s Stage where a knight and a pie maker were rehearsing a comedy routine for the next day.
“I don’t know. I hope we find out quickly.”
“I found this.” I showed him the piece of green felt I’d found in my earring. “I think my attacker, aka Chris’s killer, left it there when he or she hit me.”
He looked at it. “You should give that to Detective Almond when we go see him tomorrow. It could be important.”
We paused to let the kids marvel at a sword swallower practicing his routine near the tree swing, and I explained my theory about everyone in the Village wearing green felt.
