“I’m sorry.” He leaned against the side of the hut, his face in the shadows.
“No. That’s okay. You’re right in some ways.” I sighed. “I was jealous of Isabel. I don’t know why.”
He moved closer to me. “Maybe because we’re real, Jessie. And what’s happening between us is real.”
Something inside of me wanted it to be real. I felt like the Grinch whose heart grew three sizes as he stood on Mt. Crumpit. I put my arms around Chase and closed my eyes as I laid my head on his chest. He pulled me closer, and the shadows didn’t seem so bad with the two of us.
“My feelings for you are real,” Chase whispered. “I hope you feel the same about me.”
I was about to assure him that he was more than a summer fling for me when a loud scream pierced the streets of Renaissance Faire Village.
Fourteen
The screams were coming from Bawdy Betty’s Bagels, which was located between my hut and the Peasant’s Pub. Chase and I ran down there, the bells on my costume giving me away. He glanced at me, and I shrugged. There wasn’t much I could do about the bells. I couldn’t wait to get my new costume tomorrow. The troubadour outfit may have been lighter, but I’d be happy to have my linen back. At least it was quiet.
Bawdy Betty was doing the screaming. When she saw Chase, she ran up and threw herself into his arms. I wondered if I’d ever get used to women throwing themselves at him. It was annoying to be jealous, especially since Chase was aware of it.
“Did you see that?” She sobbed into his shirt. “There was someone skulking around down here. He was wearing one of those weird monk costumes. I was taking out the trash, and there he was. It looked like he was trying to get through the Village without being seen. It was horrible. I don’t think he had a face. All I could see was darkness inside the hood.”
With that terrifying statement, Betty collapsed on Chase, one arm across her eyes as her knees went weak. I wanted to suggest that he drop her. I thought she’d get to her feet quickly enough. The woman was monopolizing my man.
“Call the paramedics.” Chase looked back at me. “While you’re at it, call the police. We have to get to the bottom of this monk thing before the Brotherhood turns ugly.”
I reached for my cell phone, which wasn’t there. Betty revived enough to tell us we could use the phone in her shop. “There’s no need to call the paramedics. I’ll be fine.” She squeezed Chase’s arms with her greedy little hands and gazed up into his face. “Although I may need someone to carry me inside. I don’t know if I can walk.”
I’d trained with the campus fire and rescue squad in my freshman year. I only mention it because what I did might seem extraordinary otherwise, but a fireman can lift a person twice his weight using the cradle.
And that’s exactly what I did. Betty closed her eyes and pretended to faint again. I grabbed one of her arms and hoisted her on my shoulders. She wasn’t a lightweight, especially in her full-length gown and undergarments, but I managed. I took the back stairs into the bagel shop, glancing down when Chase didn’t follow me. “I’ll take care of her. You call the police.”
Betty opened one heavily made-up eye as I took her to her bedroom. “What’s this? This isn’t right. Have you got a thing for me?”
“No. You said you couldn’t walk. I’m helping you.” I shifted her weight.
“I only said it to get some attention from that lovely boy.” Betty shivered and smiled.
I dropped her on her bed, watching her bounce with some kind of fiendish delight. “You’re old enough to be his mother, Betty. Why not pick on Roger Trent?”
“Not my type!” She looked up at me from the bed. “Is that how it is with you, sweetie? I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were set on the bailiff this year.”
I took a deep breath, about to admit my darkest secret to Bawdy Betty. “Now you know.” It was a relief to confide in someone. I felt much better as I went back downstairs.
Chase was still on the phone with the police department. I sat down on one of the tall stools at the bagel bar and watched him. I thought, Mine, all mine, a few times. The whole possessive thing was a little new to me, but I thought I could get used to it. Chase was a prize. I was amazed I’d never really understood before. I guess I was so busy comparing him to Tony that I didn’t see they were nothing alike.
“Someone’s on their way out.” He hung up the phone. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m a big steak on a stick, and you’ve got plenty of Worcestershire sauce.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I licked my lips.
“I’m not complaining. Although now might not be a good time.”
“It takes them a good forty-five minutes to get here, even with a dead body.” I studied his muscled legs in brown tights.
He thought about it, but not too long. “You’re right. Let’s go.”
The police were pulling in as Chase and I ran back from the big swan swing. It was shaped like a swan with a large open space in the middle that could easily hold five or six kids, or one or two adults. It was scary and exciting being out in the open like that, even though it was the middle of the night.
I realized Chase had his tunic on backwards and we changed it quickly before anyone saw it. It was an easy thing to do because the tunic wasn’t much more than a big T-shirt without sleeves.
Chase smiled and kissed me as he handed me one of the bells that had come off my costume. “We’ll have to do that again sometime.”
I agreed, then tried to get my love-hazy brain operating again. I didn’t want to sound like a flake talking to the police. Someone’s life could be at stake.
It wasn’t Detective Almond but an officer who was looking around Bawdy Betty’s yard with a flashlight when we got there. “Bailiff?” He looked up.
Chase shook his hand. “That’s me. Thanks for coming out. We’ve got a problem out here.”
We sat down in Betty’s kitchen, and she made us all coffee while we discussed the situation with the officer. He nodded as he listened and ate a few bagels, then wiped his hands on a napkin. “Besides the assault you’re attributing to this robed figure, do you have any real evidence that one of the monks has gone wacko?”
I glanced at Chase. Had either one of us mentioned wacko monks? The Brotherhood wasn’t going to take kindly to being herded up and questioned. Fortunately, we wouldn’t have to do it. They could get together and try to intimidate the police with their late-night antics.
“Not really,” Chase admitted. “But there’s a man who isn’t a resident of the Village who might be involved in what happened with the murder and the assault.” He told the officer about Abraham.
“Can you describe him?” The officer took out a notebook and searched for a pen until Betty provided one with a large feather on it. Her smile was lascivious.
“He’s tall, thin.” I thought about it for a few seconds. “He’s got a long, thin face. He’s black, which may be why Betty thought the hooded figure didn’t have a face at all. When I first saw him, he was wearing spats.”
The officer raised his eyebrows and scratched his crew cut. “That’s something you don’t hear every day. Can you describe them?”
“You don’t know what spats are?” I tried not to sound too amazed.
“I can’t keep up with all the weird clothing you people wear out here.” He looked at my costume. “Like what do you call what you’re wearing? Are you the court jester or something?”
“I’m a troubadour, a singer who entertains royalty.”
“Whatever. Describe the spats, please.”
I described the shoes and Abraham’s old suit. I’d lost confidence in the officer to take care of the problem. I didn’t have a lot to begin with. He was so busy looking down Bawdy Betty’s bodice that he hardly had time to write. I thought if we put a bagel down her bodice, Chase and I could leave, and he’d never notice.
“Is that all?” he asked wh
en he’d finished writing.
“As far as we know,” Chase answered. “Maybe you could station an officer down here for a few days. It’s a long drive out here to catch someone.”
The officer got to his feet and winked at Betty. “That’s where you come in, Mr. Bailiff. You’re a big, strong-looking boy. If you see this fella, take him into custody. Put him in your pretend jail, and then call us. We’ll take care of the rest.”
It was about what I’d expected. If Abraham had been tied to one of Betty’s chairs, the officer might’ve questioned him. He wasn’t going to expend any energy looking for someone who might or might not have committed a crime.
Chase thanked him for coming, and Betty gave him a bagel for the road. We left before Betty and the officer got sloppy by the car. There wasn’t much else to do.
“We have to find some way to flush this guy out,” Chase said as we walked toward the dungeon. There were no lights on in the Village by this time. Even the animals in the stables and Bo Peep’s sheep were asleep.
“What do you have in mind?” I didn’t comment on the fact that my hut was closer than the dungeon. Chase’s bed was more comfortable. And since I’d decided he was mine, it didn’t matter where we went.
“I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it. But if we don’t find some way to get him out in the open, something else is bound to happen. He’s not hanging around here for no reason. I don’t like that he seemed to be headed toward your hut. Maybe you should consider moving.”
“Okay. But there isn’t anyplace available this summer.”
He took my hand. “I know someplace that’s available. Rent free, too, if you don’t mind sharing.”
It was what I was waiting for, at least since we’d talked that night. Funny how one day could change your perspective. Just yesterday, I’d been thinking I didn’t want to be at the dungeon with him because it was too proprietary. Then tonight, it was all I wanted to do.
“I could handle that.”
“Great!” He kissed my hand. “We’ll move your stuff to the dungeon in the morning.”
“I think I can wait until then.”
“If not, there’s always the swan swing, although I think I hurt my back over there. I might be getting too old to rescue damsels, subdue evil knights, and woo fair troubadours.”
“Whatever,” I blew off his excuses. “There’s always aspirin.”
The next morning Chase and I talked about what we could do to trap Abraham. Now that we knew the police wouldn’t be any help, we had to find a way to take care of the problem.
“We could paint a mark on every monk we pass that you can only see with a black light and have handheld black lights to scan them,” Chase suggested as we moved my stuff to the dungeon.
“That would work if we had handheld black lights and if the monks would let us paint their robes.” I shuffled my suitcase from one hand to another. “I wonder why Abraham would see me as a threat. It’s not like I know anything more than anyone else.”
“I don’t know. And he might not,” Chase admitted. “But you’ll be safer at the dungeon.”
I laughed, feeling very alive and happy, even if an evil monk was after me. The morning sun was warm on my head, and my senses were filled with all the sights, sounds, and smells of Renaissance Faire Village. Someday, when I was old and content to be where I was, I wanted to live here year round. This place was more home to me than anywhere else in the world.
Thinking about home made me think about Tony. I tried calling him when we dropped off my stuff at the dungeon. His cell phone was dead, of course. If I didn’t pay the bill, he didn’t, either. I wondered how he and Tammy were doing in Las Vegas and if it was everything he’d hoped it would be. I hoped it was. It would be nice for Tony to be happy.
“I have to hold debtor’s court in a few minutes.” Chase smiled at me. “It’ll be nice knowing you’ll be here tonight. I hope this isn’t rushing things for you.”
I hugged him, and we kissed for a few minutes. I didn’t want to think about how many fairies and other fair maidens he’d practiced that kiss on; he was too good at it for me to believe I was the first. But then, I considered myself to be a fair kisser, too. Together we made a pretty good team.
I didn’t let myself think about the end of the summer. When it was done, it was done. It had been that way for me for many years. There was no reason to think it would change because Chase was involved.
“You’re off to Wicked Weaves?”
“Yep. I’ve stopped injuring myself when I weave baskets. Maybe now I can learn the real fundamentals.”
“Do you think Mary could be in danger like Ham said?” Chase raised that left brow at me.
“I don’t know. I hope not. Maybe we can come up with something today. We need to get Abraham out in the open.”
“What about Jah? You think they could be working together?”
“There’s no way of knowing. Mary won’t listen to anything bad about either one of them. It could be Jah and Abraham working together or each of them involved individually. The only thing I know for sure is that something’s up.”
We kissed once more before leaving the dungeon. I almost skipped back through the Village, saying good morning to Frenchy at his fudge shop and Kellie at her kite shop. The Three Chocolatiers were practicing their swordplay in front of their shop in full costume. Their large, plumed hats, capes, and thigh-high boots separated them from the rest of the crowd. They put on a good show and had excellent chocolates.
I waved to a few of my students who were exercising the camels and elephants, surprised they’d stayed with it for so long. Several young men were trying to take the sword from the stone as I approached Wicked Weaves.
Of course, it didn’t come out. It was inserted into an electronic lock in the stone, but most boys from the ages of nine to sixty couldn’t resist trying. A few girls tried, too, but mostly the females watched from the side with exasperated expressions on their faces.
Roger Trent stopped me before I could go into Wicked Weaves. “I’d like to talk to you alone for a minute.”
I wasn’t sure I wanted to be alone with him, but since I was thinking about apprenticing with him at some point, I thought I should learn to get over it. Maybe he’d have something to say that would make sense of everything that had happened. After all, he was a standard in the Village. He knew everyone and everything.
He was an extraordinary glass blower. I was always stunned by his creations when I walked into his shop, the Glass Gryphon. He was a true artist. Tiny little dragons peeked out from behind glass trees while large glass birds and fairies dangled from the ceiling. The colors and forms were graceful and beautiful. He infused them with life, even down to the tiny details of their clothes and faces. Except for the burns I always noticed on his muscular forearms, I was eagerly anticipating learning the craft.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about what happened to Mary’s husband,” he said as we walked into his shop. “I don’t think things are exactly as they appear.”
I sat beside his worktable as he sat down to work on one of his creations. The fine piece of glass looked out of place in his big hands. “What kind of things?”
“I’ve heard the police say they found Joshua behind the privies and that he’d been moved.”
“That’s what I heard, too.”
“What else have you heard, Jessie?”
I wasn’t sure how to answer that question. I glanced into the side room off the main show area in his shop. There was a monk’s robe hanging on the wall. My pulse jumped up.
There were many reasons Roger could have a monk’s robe. Maybe he was part of the Brotherhood of monks. That was unlikely, since all the craftsmen were members of the Craft Guild, and I’d never heard of one crossing over to another group.
Maybe he just liked the way the robe looked. It was a popular costume for visitors. Maybe he had one of his own for when he wasn’t wearing his leather jerkin and hose. It got chilly in the wintertim
e.
Or maybe Roger was involved in Joshua’s murder, and he was pumping me for information, because he knew I’d talked to the police last night. If he was the one skulking around outside Bawdy Betty’s, he’d know about that. And didn’t someone mention that frequently one of the first people on the scene of a homicide is involved in it?
I knew I had to word my answer carefully. “I haven’t heard a lot more than that, Roger. There was an attack on Ham. The police think it might be the same person.”
He continued working with the glass figure. “Why would someone want to hurt Ham?”
“I don’t know. Maybe they want to cover up what really happened to Joshua.”
Wicked Weaves Page 16
