by Thea Cambert
They hung up and snuggled in for their movie. Franny began crying during the scene where the old gardener got locked out of the garden, so they hit pause while she ran to get a box of tissues.
“No one cries during The Haunted Garden!” Alice called after her. Then she turned to Owen. “Did you hear what Little John said about the faire being cursed?” she asked, getting up from the couch and digging her tablet computer out of her bag.
“Well, we all know Little John can be a little on the dramatic side sometimes,” said Owen.
“Get your phone,” Alice said, and when Franny came back with the tissues, she added, “Franny, you get your phone, too. I’ve got the faire’s website open.” She scrolled through the pages until she found what she was looking for. “Here it is. A list of all the places the faire has visited so far this year, along with the dates they were in those places. Looks like they’ve been working their way east from Nashville since January. They were in Hendersonville January third through sixth.” Alice turned to Owen. “Check the police records in the local newspaper around that time span.”
Owen nodded, and began typing into his phone.
“Franny, you check Smithville on January eighth through the eleventh.”
One by one, they ticked off the towns the faire had stopped in. And one by one, they checked the local police reports in those towns.
“Little John was right,” Alice finally said. “There have been bad things happening in every single town they’ve stopped in. The common denominator seems to be theft. Mostly art and jewelry.”
“As far as I can tell, no arrests have been made in any of these cases,” said Owen.
“So, it’s not that the faire is cursed,” said Franny. “It’s just that they’ve got a thief in their midst.”
“Seems like it,” said Alice with a sigh. “And maybe a murderer as well.”
Chapter 7
The lake was magical in the early morning. The sun rose on Ben and Luke’s end of the lake in the east, and set in the west, down by the Cozy Bear Camp and Glamp, so a golden light filtered through the trees behind Alice, Owen, and Franny as they sat on the dock, watching a thin layer of steam fog roll along the water’s surface and dissipate into the air.
“We should have our morning coffee out here on the water all spring,” said Owen, taking a sip from his mug. “Oh!” He hopped up and jogged back into the house, returning moments later with a plate of his signature sin-amon rolls. “I warmed these up in the oven. Thought we should carb load before our big day.” He gave Alice a wink.
“Queens do not carb load,” said Alice, peeling off the doughy outer strip of her roll and savoring the spices and vanilla cream cheese frosting. “We nibble.”
“Well, next week, after your reigns have come to an end, we need to do a little extra jogging,” said Franny.
Once they were all dressed and ready to go, they hopped into Owen’s SUV. They’d driven over to Franny’s the night before instead of riding their bikes since they’d brought Poppy over. Poppy loved riding in the car but would not abide a bicycle basket.
“Slow down,” Alice said, as they approached the clearing by the lake where various members of the faire’s staff were busy setting up for the evening festivities. “There are the Clarks. Let’s ask them about our costumes.”
They stopped to admire the jousting ring, with its colorful flags flapping in the cool morning breeze. The bird show area was already marked off and benches were set out in rows around the stage. They waved at Patrick Sullivan, who was off in the trees, setting up his outdoor tavern, the Smiling Hound 2, with little tables and chairs scattered around it.
“Good morning!” Alice said, as they approached Lois and Drake Clark.
“Good morning!” said Lois, standing up straight and stretching her back.
“What’s this you’re working on?” asked Owen.
“This is the arrow-shooting booth. People can stop by and try their luck.”
Owen let out a little groan. “I know all about that booth. It’s the one thing I’m not planning to do at the faire this year.”
Drake laughed. “We heard about last year,” he said, referring to the year before, when Owen had been the faire’s Robin Hood. Ironically, Owen had proven to be a terrible shot.
“This is our friend Franny,” Alice said, linking arms with Franny.
“Very nice to meet you, Franny,” said Drake, doffing his hat and bowing cordially.
“Congratulations are in order,” Lois said, nodding at Franny’s round belly. “How wonderful.” She looked at her brother. “I’d love to design a costume for a lady-in-waiting, as it were.”
“From what I hear, you’re brilliant and the costumes are gorgeous,” said Franny.
“We’re very proud to be part of the Nottingham Faire,” Lois said graciously.
“You look pretty busy,” said Alice. “Would it be more convenient for you if Owen and I picked up our costumes, so you don’t have to drop them by the shop?”
“Oh, it’s no inconvenience,” said Drake. “We’re headed over to the campground after we finish up here. We’ve got the costumes in our . . . it’s really not a tent. It’s more of a very comfortable . . .”
“Yurt,” said Lois. “We’re glamping. It’s wonderful! Plenty of space. A beautiful view of the water. It’s so nice that we can walk right around the lake to get here. This really is a wonderful town. It’s my favorite so far.”
Alice loved hearing Blue Valley complimented. “We’re glad you’re here,” she said. She spotted Lacie’s boyfriend, Zack, across the clearing. He gave a little wave. “We’ll see you later then,” said Alice, giving the Clarks a smile, and she, Owen, and Franny walked across the clearing to say hello to Zack.
“Working hard or hardly working?” said Owen as they approached Zack.
Zack laughed. “The faire people have been really nice to me,” he said. “I’m learning a lot.” He glanced around. “Did you hear about the dead guy over by the museum? That Damon Huxley guy?” he asked in a low voice.
“We were actually at the scene,” Alice said. “Awful.”
“Lacie and I have been off at school, so we hadn’t really met him, but I hear he stole that diamond necklace Ethel Primrose had on display.”
“Yep—or part of it, anyway,” said Owen.
Zack frowned in confusion.
“Hey, Zack,” said Alice, keeping her voice down. “You’ve met a lot of the faire staff. Is anyone acting suspicious?”
“Suspicious?”
“Strange? Nervous? Odd?”
“You’ve just described Wamba,” said Zack with a chuckle.
“Wamba? The jester?”
“Yep. He’s right over there.” Zack pointed to an area next to the jousting ring, where Wamba was up on a wobbly ladder, hanging a banner.
“Thanks, Zack,” said Alice. “We’ll see you later.”
When they walked up to the jousting ring, Alice saw the ladder start to tip. Owen ran forward and grabbed it, then held it steady.
“Oh. Thank you,” said Wamba. “But you needn’t worry. I’ve fallen many a time. Always land on my feet.” He smiled cheerfully, then came down the ladder, jumping to the ground once he’d reached the fourth-to-the-bottom rung. “You three look familiar. Where have I seen you before?”
“We’re the king and queen of the elves,” Owen said.
“We crossed paths with you briefly last night, at the Smiling Hound,” said Franny.
“Ah! Of course!” Wamba bowed low to Franny, then turned to Alice and Owen. “Your highnesses, I am honored to be your court jester today.”
“We’re the ones who are honored,” said Alice. “We’ve never had a jester before.”
“Speak for yourself,” said Owen.
“I insist that it is I who bears the honor today, my lady,” said Wamba, perfectly in character. “But fear not—I shall not burden you in any way. My lot are invisible until we are needed. That is the mark of a good jester. Rest assured,
I will be near, if you need me.”
Alice noticed something over her shoulder had caught Wamba’s eye, and his face had darkened a bit, the silly smile slightly fading. She looked in the direction of his gaze, but saw only the rest of the faire staff, working around the clearing.
“Is everything okay, Wamba?” she asked.
His eyes snapped back to Alice. “But of course! What could possibly be amiss?”
Alice took a step closer to Wamba, making the decision to pry a little while she had the chance. “Perhaps you were upset by the news of a death in our fair city,” she whispered.
At that, Wamba’s face changed, and he suddenly looked more like an accountant than a jester. “I did hear about that,” he said, clearing his throat. “Sad news. I hope the man was not a close friend to any of you.”
When they shook their heads, Wamba took back on his character. “But ‘tis true, is it not, that when people get in the way, they sometimes pass away? Before their time, indeed.” He made a sad face. “We might all be warned by this cautionary tale.”
“Except that it’s no tale,” Owen said slowly. “We saw the dead man. We also saw the gaping holes left in a very valuable diamond necklace.”
“A cutpurse or a killer? Among us, do you think?” asked Wamba, fanning his arm across the clearing.
“The police will find the culprit,” said Franny.
“But until they do,” Alice added, “we’re keeping our eyes open.”
Wamba looked at the ground. “Well, I suspect,” he said in a non-theatrical voice, “that if you find the killer, you’ll find the missing jewels. And if you find the jewels, you’ll find the killer.”
Alice’s eyes widened at this. “Wamba, is there something you’d like to tell us? Or the police?”
Wamba looked around nervously and shook his head. “No, my lady. But, you have my word, if I knew anything beyond a shadow of doubt, I would waste no time in telling the authorities.”
Alice stepped back a bit. “Good,” she said with a nod.
Just then, Logan and Daniel walked up. After greeting Alice, Owen, and Franny, they told Wamba it was time to rehearse the scene when King Richard would face Prince John that afternoon on Main Street before the parade.
Wamba offered another low bow. “Until later then, my lieges,” he said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes.
Chapter 8
“Are my ears on straight?” Owen asked, turning to Alice.
“Yep. Are mine?”
“Perfectly.” Owen smiled at Alice’s outfit—from the simple silver diadem that fit around her head, coming to a V on her forehead, to the full-length dusky rose gown, which appeared to be made of layer upon layer of gossamer fabric in various earthy tones, scattered with tiny shimmering sparkles in complimentary colors, with sleeves that looked like leafy lace, fitted perfectly to Alice’s arms. Alice’s red curls were left loose under her crown and hung down around her shoulders.
Owen, on the other hand, was wearing a striking wig. His pointy ears stuck out through his long platinum hair, which cascaded down his back, the strands around his face strategically plaited to keep it from blowing into his eyes. Over this he wore a crown similar to Alice’s, and a long, shimmering robe and cape combination rounded out the ensemble.
“You look very . . . Lord of the Rings-y,” said Alice.
“High praise, indeed,” said Owen with a satisfied smile.
The Clarks had brought the costumes over to The Paper Owl around lunchtime, and true to her word, Lois had even whipped up a little something for Franny—a lovely empire waisted confection in a cornflower blue exactly the color of Franny’s eyes, studded with tiny white jewels all over the bodice.
By two-thirty that afternoon, as they’d been instructed, Alice and Owen were waiting for their cue to go onstage. They were hidden behind a curtain next to the stage that had been constructed smack in the middle of Main Street. A large crowd had gathered for the official opening ceremony of the faire where, as he did every year, King Richard the Lionheart would approach on horseback from one end of the street, as though returning from the Crusades, and Prince John would approach from the other. The two would have it out on the stage, until John would challenge Richard to a joust. Then, the whole company would set out for the clearing in the woods, led this year by the newly crowned elven nobility. Onlookers would join the parade, on horseback, bike, or foot, and follow along.
Franny would be watching the ceremony from the audience. She would drive out to the lake in Owen’s SUV and meet up with the group at the clearing, since a concerned Ben had strongly urged her not to ride a horse while pregnant.
“Everyone ready back here?” asked Little John, poking his head through the curtains.
Alice heard the crowd cheering wildly, and when Little John moved the curtains aside, she could see Wamba on stage, doing an impressive juggling act.
“Wow. Are those really on fire?” Owen asked.
“Oh yeah,” said Little John, glancing over his shoulder. “Wamba juggles all kinds of things. Flaming torches. Daggers. Swords.”
“Numbers,” Owen added with a snicker. When Alice rolled her eyes at him, he said, “What? Who doesn’t love a little accounting humor?”
“King Richard and Prince John are about to come this way,” said Little John. “They’ll argue onstage, then pronounce that you are to be king and queen of the faire. Then, you’ll mount your horses, which Gabby and I will have waiting for you right next to the stage, and we’ll be off. Sound good?”
“Yep,” said Alice with a flutter of butterflies in her stomach at the thought of standing before the crowd. She wished Luke was there.
“We got this,” said Owen, giving Little John a thumbs-up, which Little John returned before closing the curtain and going back to the stage, where he and Robin Hood, along with a group of Merry Men, boisterously cheered King Richard on.
Owen stuck his head out of the curtain to take a peek.
“Owen! Get back in here!” hissed Alice.
“Oh, look! It’s Officer Dewey!” said Owen, and before Alice could stop him, he’d waved Dewey over to the curtain and yanked him inside with them.
“Who—oh, wow!” Dewey’s brown eyes widened. “You both look so magical!”
“Thanks,” Owen said. “How’s your investigation going?”
Dewey peered out the slightly open curtain at Wamba, who had just jumped onto Prince John’s back and was pretending to whack him in the head with a scepter of some kind while the audience hooted with laughter and applause. “Jesters are the best.” Dewey sounded a little regretful when he said this.
“But?” Owen prodded.
Dewey looked back at Alice and Owen. “I hope the jester isn’t a criminal,” he finally said.
“Wamba? Why would you suspect him?” asked Alice.
“Pearl Ann will tell you this herself—she’s already told half the town, I imagine. When Damon was in the alley, before Pearl Ann hit him with her purse, he was ranting about a jester.”
“Well, that’s both odd and bizarre,” said Owen, frowning.
“And, of course, we’ve already questioned Wamba.” Dewey pointed a thumb over his shoulder toward the stage. “At this point, there’s no proof he was at the scene. No proof of anything. He seems like a good guy.” Dewey shook his head. “I wish Ben and Luke were here.”
“Dewey, you are perfectly capable of solving this on your own,” said Owen in his patented pep-talk voice. “And we’re going to help you.”
Dewey smiled and nodded, then frowned in confusion when the second part of Owen’s encouraging remark sunk in.
“Now buck up. It’s going to be okay.” Owen patted Dewey on the back.
Outside, the crowd cheered for King Richard, who was now on stage, sparring verbally with Prince John.
“Is there any sign of the little red stones that were missing from the Scarlet Lady?” Alice asked hurriedly, knowing they were almost out of time.
“No. They weren’t
on Damon’s body anywhere. They’re still missing.”
“I accept your challenge!” King Richard said from the stage. “But before we go to battle, I am privileged to introduce a king and queen of noble blood, visiting us today from a far-off land! They shall preside over our joust!”
Alice heard Franny whooping and whistling before she and Owen had even made it out onto the stage, and somehow, her nerves were calm. Everyone cheered, and after waving, bowing, curtsying, and blowing kisses, Alice and Owen were escorted to their horses at the side of the stage.
“You’re eating this up,” Alice said to Owen through her smile.
“Can I help it if the people love me?” said Owen, waving once more before climbing onto his silvery steed.
The whole cast of the show paraded down Main Street, with festival-goers filing in behind them for the short walk to the lake.
“You two stole the show!”
Alice turned to see Lois, dressed as a fairy, riding next to her brother just behind them.
“That’s because of our costumes,” said Alice with a smile. “They really are exquisite. I feel like a real queen in this gown!”
“That makes me so happy!” said Lois.
“You two made the whole process fun,” said Drake, catching up. “We love meeting new people in each town we visit, and one of our favorite challenges is touching up the costumes to suit our subjects.”
“Well, you did a beautiful job,” said Alice. “I promise I’ll be careful not to spill anything on this gown. The fabric is so delicate. And all of the little jewels!”
Lois laughed. “Too bad they’re not real, like the diamonds that were stolen from the museum. We were so sorry to hear about that. But just imagine, in the old days, queens really had gowns bejeweled with precious stones. They’d be worth a fortune!”
“It’s so odd, isn’t it, that only the smaller stones from that necklace are missing?” Alice mused. “I mean, why would someone leave the giant stone behind?”
