Ghastly Glass

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Ghastly Glass Page 23

by Joyce; Jim Lavene


  “Don’t forget whipped cream.” Tony came up and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. His devilish contact lenses glinted in the gathering twilight.

  “I know where I want to go,” I assured them both.

  King Harold and Queen Olivia were onstage, getting ready to begin the contest. I looked around for Chase or Henry, but I didn’t see either one of them across the sea of Ren vampires, pretty witches, and mummies (I’m not sure how they fit in). I asked Bart to look around since he was so tall, but he couldn’t locate either of them.

  “Lonnie’s moving in,” Chase advised us over the two-way.

  We’d asked Lonnie to pretend to be Lou, the guy Henry owed money to. They were about the same height and weight. I figured with the costumes and the near darkness, it would be hard for Henry to tell the difference, and hopefully he would spill the beans to Lonnie.

  “I don’t see anybody.” Bart looked back and forth over the crowd like a human lighthouse. Without the light, of course. “How do we know they’re out there?”

  “We just heard Chase say they were out there,” I reminded him. “Somewhere in this Halloween Ren crowd, we have to hope Henry is nervous enough to talk.”

  “Has anyone considered that if none of us are around when Lonnie pretends to be Lou, we won’t know what Henry says?” Tony has a way of getting to the nasty heart of any problem. I wasn’t sure he hadn’t picked up on the black spot in this one.

  It didn’t make me feel any better and I didn’t dare call Chase. Tony and Bart both offered to go and find Lonnie and Henry, but that could give the whole thing away, too.

  “We’ll just have to hope it goes the way we planned,” I told them, crossing my fingers behind my back.

  The trumpeters onstage blew their horns, announcing the king and queen. Applause broke out from the two hundred or more visitors in the street, crowded into the seating area that was meant to hold only about fifty people.

  “Good people of Renaissance Village: Welcome to our Royal Costume Contest.” King Harold’s voice echoed a little with the microphone, but he was easy to understand. “My queen and I will be judging the contest. Our royal servants are spreading amongst you now to choose ten finalists.”

  “If you are chosen,” Livy continued, “come up on the stage with us. We shall begin judging thereafter. May the best costume win! Huzzah!”

  There was a kind of mass shift toward the front where the stage was located. Musicians began to play while the king and queen’s minions went among the people. There were loud calls for different costumes to be chosen and a certain amount of chaos as visitors tried to get noticed.

  I saw Chase’s head. At least I thought I saw his head. Maybe it was him. I couldn’t be sure. I bit what was left of my nails as I worried about the plan. What if Henry didn’t fall for it? What if he did but no one except Lonnie heard him confess? It wasn’t like Lonnie was wearing a wire. Chase had called Detective Almond (who could be in the crowd as a vampire for all I knew). Maybe he’d be standing beside Henry when he confessed. Still, there was so much that could go wrong. Maybe this wasn’t the best plan after all.

  “I’m nervous, too.” Bart looked every inch of his seven feet like a nasty incarnation of Death. It was comical to hear him admit something bothered him. “I wish I had some potato chips. They always make me feel better.”

  I didn’t have any potato chips, but I did have some Tic Tacs. He took a handful of those (my hand, not his) and they seemed to calm him. Tony had deserted us for one of the dancers who’d swaggered by. It was just me and Death waiting to see what happened next.

  I waited for a few minutes as the stage began to fill up with contestants. I shook the two-way radio a few times, but there was still no word from Chase. Something had to be done.

  I looked up at Bart. He nodded. “I have an idea. Do you trust me, lady?”

  “I’d trust you a lot more if you’d call me Jessie.”

  “It’s not good for Death to know your name.”

  “I’ll take my chances. What did you have in mind?”

  I don’t know why I went along with it. It seemed like a crazy idea at the time, but crazy times sometimes demand crazy ideas. At least that was what I told myself. The only thing I can say in my own defense is that it wasn’t my idea. Surely that counts for something.

  Bart thought it might be useful if we were able to see above the crowds. Then we could spot Chase, see if he was near Henry, and generally scope everything out for our own peace of mind. So he suggested I sit on his shoulders.

  When I did, I felt as if I were twenty feet tall. I was afraid of nosebleeds and motion sickness. Everything seemed to be swaying.

  “Keep still, lady, or you’re going to fall down.”

  Oh. It was me swaying.

  “That’s better. What can you see?”

  “A lot of nothing in particular. It’s almost too dark to make out any one person in the crowd. I can’t tell Chase from anyone else. I wish they had better lighting during the Renaissance.”

  “Maybe it would help if we walked through the crowds,” he offered.

  “I don’t know. I’m not exactly a little kid to ride on your shoulders like this.” I tried to sound concerned for his welfare, but the truth was that I was nervous enough with him just standing here. I didn’t know if I could handle a stroll through the crowd.

  “Here.” He tossed his black robe up to me. “This will hide all of you and some of me. Then we can go.”

  “Maybe we should wait until we hear from Chase.” I backtracked even as I threw the huge (huge!) black robe around us, keeping an opening so I could see. I couldn’t even imagine what we must look like. I’m sure it was something I wouldn’t want to see coming out of the dark toward me.

  “Ready?”

  “Like I’ll ever be,” I mumbled. My next words turned into a gasp as he started walking. He must’ve had a very low center of gravity to be able to walk like this. At first I thought I was going to fall off, but after a few minutes I got accustomed to his rolling gait. It was kind of like riding a camel.

  I concentrated on looking for Chase or anyone I knew besides Livy and Harry, who were still onstage. I could barely make out any faces in the dim light. I saw a few people rear back in fright as we came upon them.

  “I can see everything, but I can’t tell what I’m seeing,” I whispered to my bottom half.

  “Keep looking,” he advised. “We know they’re out here somewhere.”

  At that moment, I saw Chase standing toward the back of the crowd. Almost immediately beside him, Henry was doing what we were doing: searching faces for the man who should be there to meet him. I wondered what would happen if the real Lou got there before Lonnie’s fake Lou could lure Henry away. Probably disaster.

  “I see them,” I told Bart. “They’re standing over there close to the side of the apothecary. Can you walk that way?”

  “I can’t see. Which way is the apothecary?”

  “Hands on the clock. It’s at two o’clock.”

  “What? Where’s the clock?”

  “There is no clock. You have to pretend there’s a clock. You’re looking at it from where you’re standing. Walk toward two o’clock.”

  “Is that the twelve part of the clock or the two part of the clock?” I felt him shake his head. “I’m confused.”

  “Just walk straight ahead and then veer a little to the right.” I couldn’t figure out how else to explain where he needed to go. I looked toward the spot where I’d seen Chase and Henry. They were still there, but there were several people standing around them. I couldn’t tell if any of them were short like Lonnie and Lou. When you’re twenty feet tall, everyone else looks short.

  Bart was starting off in the right direction when two of the Queen’s minions waylaid us. “Wow! What a great costume! You belong onstage. Their Royal Majesties will want you in the contest for sure. Come right this way.”

  I tried to argue. Bart tried to argue. We were drowned out in the sound of th
e musicians from the stage and Livy talking loudly into the microphone. With the minions helping us toward the stage, it was impossible to get away without falling over. The crowd helped push us toward the rest of the contestants under the lights and we were herded up the stairs.

  “I don’t know how to get away,” Bart said. “Are you okay, lady?”

  “Yeah. Maybe this will be for the best. We can’t really hear anything, but at least we can see. See over there?” I pointed toward the apothecary. “I think I can still make out Chase and Henry.”

  “Well, we have a wonderful group of costumes up here, don’t we, my dear?” Livy asked Harry. “It will be very difficult to judge which one is best.”

  King Harold did his Henry VIII belly laugh. “It will indeed, my dear. What have we here?”

  The king and queen were standing beside Bart and me, careful not to hide us from the crowd (like that was possible) but making sure that the visitors could see them as well.

  “Let us go!” I said it in my sternest professor voice. Usually it had an immediate effect.

  “Let us go or die.” Bart added a dimension to my words that didn’t necessarily help our cause, although they were well spoken.

  Livy’s laughter trilled out. “How very amusing you are, Sir Death! We should not fear you in our chamber at all. Perhaps we shall engage you to be our fool when this is over.”

  “It’s me, Livy,” I said, trying to reason with her. “Me and Bart. We’re not visitors. Pick someone else.”

  “Dear me!” She put one hand to her heavily rouged cheek. “We do believe both halves of this creature are speaking!”

  The crowd laughed loudly. I was about to kick her in the face when my two-way radio suddenly decided to start squawking.

  “I’ve been looking for you, Henry. You’ve been a very bad boy.”

  Twenty-one

  That was Lou. The real Lou. Our plan was backfiring right before my eyes.

  “We have to do something,” I hissed at Bart.

  “Something like what?”

  “I don’t know. I think Chase must’ve had Lonnie leave his two-way on. He must be close enough to Henry to pick up what’s being said. But Lou could kill Henry and we’d never know the truth about what happened. I don’t know about anyone else, but I have a huge bet riding on this. Henry can’t die until he ’fesses up.”

  “That’s fine, but we’re a long way from them. What can we do?”

  Our conversation was going on as an overlay to the queen’s humorous repartee with the king and the crowd. She was still intent on keeping us in the stupid costume contest even though I’d told her we weren’t visitors. Probably wanted to keep the grand prize for the Village—in other words, herself.

  I swallowed hard on my fear and closed my eyes. “Jump off the stage.”

  “What? Did you say jump?”

  “That’s what I said. We’ll create a diversion. Even if we can’t get to Henry and Lou fast enough, it will give Chase, Grigg, and Detective Almond a chance to take care of it. I don’t dare say anything on the two-way, but if we’re hearing Lou and Henry, Chase must be, too. Just jump.”

  “Okay, lady. Hold on tight.”

  He grabbed both of my legs, which were resting on his chest. He didn’t really need to because I was clinging monkeylike to try and stay on through the whole thing. I felt him take a deep breath, then he bellowed loudly and threw himself off the stage.

  Despite my supreme terror, I heard everyone around us start screaming and running. Apparently we were so frightening that it was causing a general panic. I heard Livy yell to Harry that she was getting out of here. I couldn’t see what was happening as Bart landed on his feet with a hard thud, then took off running through the scattering crowd.

  Death was light on his feet for a seven-foot guy who possibly weighed in at over three hundred pounds. I didn’t blame the crowd for running. With Bart continuing to shout terrible, threatening phrases as he ran, we were superscary. If I’d seen us, I’d be running, too.

  But the hood from his cloak had dropped over my face and I couldn’t see anything. I tried to pull it up, but it kept falling back down. I hoped Bart could see where he was running so we didn’t end up crashing into the apothecary or the privies, but I knew there was no guarantee. While it would be some sort of poetic justice to end up in a privy after my stunt with Rafe, I kept hoping karma was asleep. Please don’t let us fall in a privy. Please don’t let us fall in a privy.

  “Can you see where you’re going?” I asked in that unique voice that comes from having your entire body jogged up and down at breakneck speed. “Bart? Can you hear me?”

  “It’s hard to talk. I can see it.”

  He sounded breathless. It was probably hard to push that big body so fast. I hoped he didn’t have a heart attack or something before we found his brother’s killer. I decided not to distract him again and hoped we’d get wherever we were going in two pieces. Once you put yourself on the path of destruction (especially riding on the shoulders of Death), you get whatever comes next.

  The people in the crowd rushed in every direction. Lou stood in one place with Henry while Bart and I rushed toward them. Of course, he couldn’t have known we were coming for them. I didn’t even know. I thought we were a diversion, but we ended up being a cataclysm.

  I felt a whack and thud before I flew off of Bart’s broad shoulders. I couldn’t tell anything since I was totally swamped in the huge, heavy robe. The only thing I was sure of was that I’d lost my ride somewhere. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to tuck into a fetal position, hoping to minimize the damage from the coming impact.

  I was praying, too, as though I hadn’t just been consorting with all kinds of demonic creatures and recently said I wouldn’t mind going someplace besides heaven if there was plenty of chocolate. Surprising how quickly you can recant when it comes right down to it. Mostly my prayer went something like this: Not the privies. Not the privies. Oh God, not the privies.

  And someone must’ve been listening because I didn’t crash into the privies headfirst. Instead, I crashed into a person. I heard the air whoosh out of their body when I hit them, and whoever it was went down like a stone.

  I tried to get to my feet, muttering all kinds of apologies (and secretly glad not to be in the privies as long as the person I fell on wasn’t dead), but the stupid robe kept swallowing me. I’d pull it one way and a huge glop of it would fall back on me again. I could hear groaning and moved my feet off of the person I’d hit. “Sorry,” I said louder. “I’m trying to get out of this. Sorry.”

  I heard a sound like a sharp click of metal and pulled hard at the right side of the robe, hoping to finally see some light. But instead, because the left side of the robe was still under my foot, I jerked my leg out from under me. I collapsed in a heap of robe and desperate woman on top of the person I’d just cannonballed.

  There was a loud, deafening retort, like a car backfiring except much closer. Like directly underneath me. The person swore and pushed at us (me and the robe), but it didn’t do any good until strong arms lifted me from my predicament and another set of hands pulled the robe straight off from above my head.

  “Are you okay?” Chase’s face was very close to mine.

  A dozen flashlights were playing over me. I put out my hand to fend them off. “I’m fine. Turn off the mini-searchlights. They’re blinding me!”

  Chase grabbed me up in a tight bear hug. “Jessie, you scared the crap out of me. What were you doing? You’re lucky you didn’t get yourself killed.”

  I was totally confused. “I know it was taking a chance when I had Bart jump off the stage, but I thought it might be a good diversion. I heard Lou out here talking to Henry.”

  The man standing beside me (dressed like an inquisitor) pulled back his mask. It was Detective Almond (kudos on the costume). “We had it in hand, young woman. We didn’t need your interference.”

  I glanced beyond our small circle and saw several zombies (probably plainclot
hes cops) picking someone who looked like Lou off the ground. One of them had just snatched a gun from him. “Did he try to shoot me? Was that what the noise was?”

  Chase put his arm around me. “I think that’s exactly what happened. You’re not shot, are you?”

  “No. Not as far as I can tell. I mean, how do you tell if you’ve been shot? I didn’t feel any pain or gushing blood.”

  “And don’t let Detective Almond kid you. We’d already tried to close in on our real-life thug as soon as Lonnie’s radio caught his conversation with Henry. It was a disaster.”

  “As soon as Lou realized who we were,” Grigg continued, “he held the gun on Henry to get out of the Village. He might’ve shot him or actually escaped if it wasn’t for you falling on him. Good work, Jessie.”

  I glanced around. “Where’s Bart?”

  “Here I am, lady.” He already had his Death robe on again. He was probably the only one who could’ve pulled that yardage straight off over my head.

  I left Chase’s side and went over to hug the big guy. “What happened back there? Are you okay?”

  “I don’t know what happened. I think I tripped over someone.”

  “You could say that,” Tony groaned from somewhere behind Bart. “How much do you weigh, dude?”

  Bart laughed. “Not enough sometimes. Sorry I hurt you, Mr. Devil.”

  Two zombies walked through what was left of the fleeing crowd with Henry held between them. “Now we’ll figure out what’s going on, right, Mr. Trent?” Detective Almond seemed pleased with himself, although I couldn’t see where he’d played much of a part in all this except for being in the right place at the right time. And even that, we’d set up for him.

  “I’m not saying anything,” Henry decided. “I want a lawyer.”

  “That’s fine with me,” Detective Almond told him. “I wonder how long it’ll take Lou to make bail. An hour? Maybe less. With someone like him, it’s hard to say. But I guarantee no one will be around to save your ass next time he comes for you.”

 

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