by Joyce Lavene
Chapter Three
“Who else has been in the museum this morning besides you and the loom movers?” I tried not to panic as I wiped my hands on a handkerchief in my pocket.
“The museum was empty when I came here this morning,” Manny said. “The loom movers came later, and then I went to find you. Why? Is something wrong? What is that smell?”
Manny and I were the only ones with keys to the museum. He was new to the Village. I had no reason to suspect that he might be involved with what had happened to Wanda. The killer probably came in while he was gone and hid the bracelet because he or she knew I could be blamed for Wanda’s death.
“Nothing is wrong.” I looked at the bracelet and wished I had a plastic bag to put it in. The only thing I had was my free drink mug that all employees carried. When you presented it at any of the eateries in the village, you got a free drink.
Could I ever drink out of the mug again if I stored Wanda’s bloody bracelet in it until I could give it to Chase or Detective Almond?
I wasn’t sure, but I couldn’t walk around with it in my hand either. Grimacing, I dropped the bracelet into the mug. That was that. I’d have to get a new mug.
“Blood.” Manny sniffed again, moving closer to see what I was doing. “New blood. What did you find?”
“Nothing. I-uh-cut myself shaving this morning.” I didn’t want to discuss this with him. I knew how the Village gossips worked. One word and everyone would know.
“Really?” His dark eyes gazed into my face as though trying to discern the truth. “It doesn’t smell like you, Lady Jessie.”
That was weird.
I took a few steps back from him and put my hand across the top of the cup. “I have to go. You have to go too.”
“Why? I have a lot of work to do here today. I can’t leave.”
I nudged him out the door. “Yes, you can. Consider it your day off.” I closed and locked the museum door behind us. “Don’t set foot inside until tomorrow, or when the police tell you to.”
“The police?” He put his hand lightly on top of mine, the one that was covering the cup that held Wanda’s bracelet. “You can trust me with your secrets, Lady Jessie. What has happened?”
“I can’t talk about it yet. I’m sorry.” I jerked my hand, and the cup, away from him. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, Manny. I’ll tell you later. I promise.”
He peered at me with such intensity in his eyes that I thought lasers might come out of them. It was scary. I thanked him for his help, as I always did, and ran down the stairs to the cobblestones.
I knew Detective Almond would want to look over the area where I’d found the bracelet. Clearly, the killer had been in there. Maybe he or she had left some fingerprints behind. They could probably get something from the blood on the bracelet too.
I stopped in at Merlin’s Apothecary, which was uncomfortably close to the First Aid Station where Wanda would normally be. Her cottage was only a few hundred feet from there too. Chase was probably there, talking to Detective Almond about her death.
Merlin could be a little wacky sometimes, but he was a good friend. His purple wizard’s robe had a tendency to fly open, even when there was no breeze. Most of the ladies in the Village knew to look away. He also wore a large, pointed hat that matched his robe.
His apothecary was full of stuffed birds, jars of bugs and worms. He sold colored powders and liquids, magic tricks, and wands. It was one of the most visited shops in the Village, though I couldn’t say why. Maybe it was the name.
The first thing anyone saw as they walked inside was a motley moose head Merlin called Horace. It was disgusting, but kids loved it.
“Lady Jessie.” Merlin bowed regally to me as I entered. He held his pointed hat on his scraggly gray hair. “To what do I owe the honor?”
What most people didn’t know, even those who’d lived in the Village for a while, was that Merlin was the CEO of Adventureland. I wouldn’t have known either, but Chase told me. Merlin lived here because he said it helped him keep up with his work.
I knew better. The man loved the weird.
“I have a big problem I need to discuss with you.”
“That sounds serious. I could make an appointment for day after tomorrow.”
“It has to be now. Wanda is dead, and it looks like I might’ve killed her. I didn’t. But it looks like I could be guilty.”
His blue eyes widened comically above his gray beard that didn’t look too much better than Horace’s fur. “That is quite a problem. Have you told the Bailiff yet? Has anyone called the police?”
We sat down in his shop, and I spilled everything—from the blue dye prank to finding her coming out of the shower.
“Well, the prank was a long time coming after she glued your gown to the chair at the Lady of the Lake Tavern,” he mused. “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to get her back—that maybe you were too caught up with the wedding plans and the museum. That part I understand.”
“This was more than a prank. It looked like the killer caught her right after the dye had come out of the showerhead. It was awful.”
He nodded in what I suspect should have been a wise manner. Instead his hat almost toppled from his head. He came close to falling out of his chair as he tried to catch it.
“And what can I do for you in regard to this matter?” he finally asked.
“I was wondering if you could tell me anything about Wanda’s life that might be helpful. Was she seeing anyone? Had she broken up with someone? Blades are used in crimes of passion, Merlin. Was there someone she felt passionate about?”
He stroked his beard again and gazed toward the ceiling. “It seems to me that she was seeing someone. Yes! A younger man, I believe. Shakespeare had some words to say about that. I remember hearing them argue night before last. They were divorced, you know.”
“Yes. I knew they’d been married.” Maybe Shakespeare had killed Wanda and set me up. The prank made me look guiltier than anyone else I could think of, including him.
“Well, then you may also know that Shakespeare was paying Wanda alimony, unheard of in this day and age, but apparently he’d strayed during their marriage and had no choice but to pay up.”
That was news to me. No one in the Village made much money. How could Shakespeare afford to pay Wanda alimony?
Maybe he couldn’t. Her death would mean the end of that extra expense. It was a strong motive.
“What about the younger man?” I asked. “Do you know his name?”
“No. I might know him if I saw him. He works here—a knight, I believe.”
“Thank you, kind sir.” I got to my feet and sketched him a slight curtsy when I noticed visitors coming into the apothecary.
The visitors applauded and smiled. This was one reason why the people who lived here were ‘on’ the whole time the Main Gate was open.
“You are very welcome, lovely lady.” He bowed, keeping one hand on his hat.
I left the apothecary, headed for the castle to see if Shakespeare had run for sanctuary there.
Ginny Stewart, the owner of the Lady of the Lake Tavern, was standing beside the Hanging Tree, watching the police outside Wanda’s cottage. She was a tough, older woman with ragged white hair—the epitome of what anyone would think of as a female tavern owner from the Renaissance.
She always wore the same, slightly dirty green dress as her costume, her enormous bosom barely contained in it. “What’s going on over there?” she asked in her rasping voice.
“Wanda is dead. Murdered,” I informed her.
“Oh.” She turned away. “A lot of fuss about a trifle then.”
Ginny and I weren’t particularly friends either. I wasn’t surprised by her attitude, though it was cold. I couldn’t think who she was friends with in the Village either, besides the men.
One of Chase’s security guards saw me. Detective Almond had arrived and was requesting my presence. My time to find possible alternatives to me being the kil
ler was up.
I knew there was nothing else I could do. I followed the security guard. There was an ambulance, a coroner’s car, and a police vehicle in front of Wanda’s cottage. It wouldn’t be long before everyone knew what had happened.
It was always so odd to see vehicles here, especially emergency vehicles. It felt like poking a stick in the wheel of normal Village life. You could almost forget the real world was out there, until something like this happened.
Detective Don Almond was a chubby, middle-aged man who always seemed in need of a haircut, and he wore his pants too tight. His heavy chin rested above a dirty collar and a shirt front always stained with whatever his last meal had been.
When he saw me, he bowed slightly. “Look who’s here. Welcome, my lady. Have you come to answer for your crimes?”
Chapter Four
Detective Almond and I have had our moments—not many of them good. He seemed to love Chase like a son and equally disliked me.
So I knew what he saw when he appraised me in that brief moment: thirty-something, ex-associate history professor, six-foot, blue eyes, and straight brown hair.
A little on the weird side, maybe.
“Jessie isn’t responsible for what happened to Wanda.” Chase stepped in to defend me like the chivalrous knight he was.
“Except that she had a long-term disagreement with Miss Le Fey, which had led to several confrontations that I know of—not the least of which was dyeing the dead woman blue. How could I possibly not think that Jessie was responsible for this murder?”
That hadn’t gone so well. Chase glanced at me. He hadn’t given up.
Before he could have another go at telling Detective Almond that I was innocent, I stood up for myself. “Yes, it’s true. I put the blue dye in the showerhead to get back at her for gluing my skirt to a chair in the tavern. But she was expecting it. That doesn’t mean I killed her. She was dead when I found her.”
“Another point not in your favor.” Detective Almond’s smile was smug. “I’m guessing that was your handprint on the shower glass too.”
“I know.” I produced my mug. “Someone also put Wanda’s bracelet at the museum to set me up. I locked the door before I left, so you can go over the scene in case the real killer left some clues.”
I explained about the white spot on Wanda’s arm where the bracelet had been—in case he hadn’t noticed.
He took the mug from me, glanced in it, and then handed it off to an officer. “I really appreciate your help, Jessie. Maybe we should start with where you were at around six a.m. this morning.”
“She was with me,” Chase volunteered. “We were together all night.”
“Since you’re the constable of this place, it might be better if you don’t get involved personally in the investigation,” Detective Almond told him.
“Okay—I quit. If being Bailiff for the village means I can’t defend Jessie then I quit.”
I knew Detective Almond didn’t want that to happen. He wanted Chase to stay where he was. If he left, that would mean Myrtle Beach would have to assign another trained officer to take his place.
“Let’s not be hasty. I know you love your job here. We just need to be unbiased.”
“Maybe you should take that to heart,” Chase shot back. “I don’t think immediately pegging her as the killer is unbiased either.”
Detective Almond gave in. “Fair enough. I’m going to question other possible suspects. You have to admit, your girlfriend looks to be on top of the list. She had motive. She may have had opportunity. And if I remember correctly, she’s pretty good with a sword, which my assistant medical examiner tells me is probably the weapon used by the killer.”
“First of all, she’s my fiancée. You know that. We’re getting married in a month. And second, I told you she was with me all night. You can take opportunity off that list.”
They were talking about me like I wasn’t even there.
“Excuse me,” I interrupted their debate. “I don’t think we got up until seven a.m. and the showerhead prank was set up yesterday afternoon while she was working. Someone told me she took showers in the morning before work.”
“How did you get into her home?” Detective Almond demanded.
“Everyone knows she leaves her door open while she’s at the First Aid Station. It only took me a few minutes to get the dye ready.”
He was writing down what I’d said in a small notebook and glanced up as I finished. “And you set this up by yourself? No help from anyone else?”
I thought about Shakespeare, who was a big help in relaying Wanda’s habits to me so I could make the prank happen. He wasn’t actually at the cottage while I was putting in the dye pack, but he was there right after me that morning.
I wasn’t giving him up, at least not yet, not until I had a chance to talk to him.
“I was alone. It wasn’t hard to do,” I responded. “Are you going to arrest me?”
“No.” He put away his notebook. “Not right now anyway. Show me where you found the bracelet.”
We walked down the path that took us past the castle and Mirror Lake where the pirate ship was in the process of sailing toward the Lady of the Lake Tavern.
The Hanging Tree was beside it. Public hangings of unfortunates happened at least once a day here. It was always surprising to me how many visitors wanted to be publically hanged. They signed up for it as they entered the gate, and even paid extra for the privilege.
Of course it was all staged, like the stocks where visitors threw squishy vegetables and fruit at each other for supposed wrongs—and almost everything else in the Village.
We walked past Eve’s Garden where they sold live plants and herbs used for food and medicine during the Renaissance. There was a tour and a tasting. It was never as popular as I thought it should be. There were some interesting plant poisons used during that time.
As we reached the mermaid lagoon at the far end of the lake, Detective Almond’s eyebrows shot up. “Where are the mermaids?”
Usually, the mermaids would have been sunning themselves on large rocks in the water. They’d flick their tails and giggle as they waved. They each wore long blond wigs that covered their shoulders, and left plenty of cleavage showing from their bikini tops.
But it was November and the hot days of summer were behind us. The mermaids would be back again in May.
“It’s too cold,” Chase explained. “Everyone asks about them.”
I watched dozens of people make a sharp turn to the left to visit the mermaids after entering the Main Gate. Their looks of disappointment mimicked Detective Almonds’.
“I’ve always liked the jousting,” he finally said, turning away from the empty lagoon. “I caught part of one of the Templar Knight horse shows earlier this year. They’re amazing horsemen.”
I knew deep down inside, Detective Almond liked the Ren Faire. He had a hard time admitting it. He’d been the first bailiff when the park had opened. It was probably still in his blood.
“I thought I caught a vibe this morning.” Former police officer Tom Grigg shook hands with his ex-boss. “I heard Wanda Le Fey was murdered.”
Grigg had been assigned as an undercover officer at the Village. He’d gone native and stayed on as Tom, Tom the Piper’s son, but now he sailed on the Queen’s Revenge and had a tattoo and gold tooth to prove it.
“Yeah.” Detective Almond tried not to look at his former contemporary—now in torn, black pants with a dirty white shirt tied around his waist. “She was dyed blue,” he glanced at me, “and someone shoved a sword through her heart.”
“Have you heard anything that could help?” Chase asked Grigg.
Grigg shook his head, his once super-short hair now down to his shoulders. “Nope. Sorry. She was at the Lady of the Lake a couple of days ago with a sweet young knight. We left them alone during the raid. Last time Captain Rafe went to her for a bad sprain, she wrapped it so tight—it almost cut off the circulation to his leg. We don’t mess with
her if we can help it.”
This was the second time I’d heard about Wanda’s young lover. “Did you recognize the young man she was with?”
“Nope. Might not live in the Village.” There was a loud rumble as the pirate ship prepared to fire off one of her cannons. “Gotta go. Plunder calls!”
“Arrgh!” Chase did the expected pirate fist pump. Grigg saluted him, and was gone.
‘Are they still pretending to kidnap visitors at the tavern?” Detective Almond gazed toward the ship in disgust. “They should’ve stopped that years ago.”
“We tried.” Chase shrugged his broad shoulders. “We got a lot of complaints. People love the pirate raid.”
Robin Hood, Maid Marion, and Little John were dressed in forest green with little green hats perched on their heads. They were battling the evil Sheriff of Nottingham for the attention of hundreds of visitors on the cobblestones. They repeated this, with some variations, every hour or so. Robin Hood always won, and led his men back into Sherwood Forest.
We walked past the spectacle quickly, and were almost to the manor house where the museum was being set up, when I heard a call from behind us. My twin brother, who was officially the promoter and web designer for the Merry Men, ran to catch up with us.
Tony looked a lot like like me, except with brown eyes—and male parts. He favored our father in appearance and disposition. I was more like our mother.
I had to admit he’d been more reliable in the last year since Robin Hood had put him to work. I hadn’t loaned him money in months.
“Hey! What’s going on, Lady Sis?” He grinned at Detective Almond and Chase.
“We’re on our way to the museum,” I told him. “Detective Almond thinks I murdered Wanda.”
Tony didn’t look surprised. “Was it the blue dye?”
“How many people in the Village knew about this prank?” Detective Almond asked with a snarl.
“Probably fifty or more.” Tony shrugged. “Someone even put it on the Internet. It was a super awesome prank.”