Harrowing Hats

by Joyce; Jim Lavene

  I was wondering what else someone could want here. A chocolate craving came to mind, but I couldn’t think of anyone that desperate.

  The back door was open—yellow, non-Renaissance light spilling out into the back courtyard where the brothers used to come out and practice their sword play. I looked at my wood and wished it were a sword. But my fairy godmother was apparently out on another call. I was stuck doing the best I could with what I had. Where is Chase?

  Without backup or reinforcements, I knew I was crazy to approach the shop at all. But after the stupid man who’d held me at gunpoint disappeared, running for help would probably mean not catching this person in the act.

  I’d seen the movie Lady Hawk and admired Matthew Broderick trying to convince his would-be attacker that there were several people with him. It seemed like a good plan for this occasion.

  As I approached the open door, I lowered the timbre of my voice, trying to sound more masculine, and said, “The door’s open over here, Jack! Someone might be breaking in!”

  “I’m almost there, Chase.” I tried to sound a little different again. “I’ll take care of it.”

  “I’ll get it,” I volunteered in my own voice at the same time that I pushed the door. It swung open and smacked against the back of the shop, making me jump.

  “Who’s there?” Bernardo called out into the darkness.

  “What are you doing here?” I looked over my shoulder and called back to my make-believe friends that it was only Bernardo. “I’m patrolling with Chase and Jack tonight. You’re lucky we’re not the police. They don’t like their crime scenes messed around with.”

  Bernardo was clutching a big, wooden stirring utensil as though he planned to use it against his would-be attackers. “Is that Jack with the beanstalk or the piper’s son?”

  “Neither,” I told him in what I hoped was an offhand way. He still hadn’t put down the sturdy-looking utensil. “He’s a new security man. You probably don’t know him. He’s from Ireland. He just got here tonight.”

  Bernardo shrugged and put the utensil back on the cabinet. “I hope we can keep this to ourselves. No need to involve the police.”

  I glanced back like Chase was coming right up behind me. “That works for me, but you better tell me what you’re doing in here before Chase comes in. You know he can be a real stickler for the law.”

  “It wasn’t anything, Jessie, really. You know I never made chocolate while Cesar was alive. I’m not even sure I can make chocolate. He didn’t leave any instructions. What kind of cook does that? What’s going to happen if we reopen and I don’t know how to make chocolate?”

  It was a valid question. “Have you looked through all of his belongings?”

  “Everything the police haven’t taken. I don’t think he ever wrote the recipe down. You know, our father made chocolate. Cesar learned from him. I was never included—too young, I guess. But now, here I am. I don’t know what to do.”

  Part of me was moved by his confession of ignorance about the chocolate-making process. But part of me was still a little unsure that Bernardo hadn’t killed his brother. Maybe there was something else to find here that he believed the police had missed in their searches. It could go either way.

  “Well, you better wait until the police tell you it’s okay to come back in here. I’ll get Chase to look the other way on this for right now.”

  “Look the other way on what?” Chase’s real voice (not even close to my copy of him) said from behind me. “What are the two of you doing in here in the middle of the night? You both know the shop is off-limits until the police investigation is over.”

  I fell back on Bernardo’s excuse. “I was helping Bernardo look for Cesar’s chocolate recipe, right, Bernardo?” I could only hope he’d pick up on the lifeline I was throwing him.

  “That’s right! I ran into Jessie down by—” He flailed in his story like a witch in a duck pond.

  “—at the Village Square where the fountain is shooting up,” I finished. “And since you weren’t there, Chase, I decided to help him.”

  For better or worse, that changed the tables and put me back in control. I was still angry about his disappearance. I hoped Bernardo wasn’t the killer and had found something overlooked that would keep him from being caught as I pushed past Chase and headed out the door.

  “Jessie!” Chase said as he followed me. “You know these things are part of my job. It’s never bothered you before.”

  I saw Bernardo turn off the light and close the shop door before slinking away into the night. “That was because you were still answering your radio, and you didn’t get up in the middle of the night and sneak off every time you got the chance.”

  “Just because I don’t wake you up—I’m trying to let you sleep. We don’t both have to be dragged out of our bed.”

  I turned around and poked my finger into his broad chest. “You’re lying to me. I know it and you know it. If you’re seeing someone else, just spit it out. I won’t hold it against you. At least we’ll both know where we stand.”

  There was mist swirling around on the damp ground beneath our feet. The stadium lights from the Village Square suddenly went out again. We were back to Village lantern light, which made it difficult to see anything but Chase’s outline.

  “I can’t believe you’d think that about me,” he said. “I remembered our anniversary. I was the one with the magic moment. You couldn’t even remember when you fell in love with me. Maybe that’s because you never really did.”

  It was hard watching his silhouette turn away and walk off toward the Field of Honor, visible only by the lanterns on the fence posts. A couple of years back they’d put those lanterns in place when one of the residents hurt himself on the fence posts after drinking too much ale and saying he wasn’t able to see where he was going.

  I wanted to call Chase back. But I was still mad. Apparently he was angry, too. Maybe we both needed to cool off. Maybe we needed a little space.

  It broke my heart to go back to the Dungeon, stuff my clothes into my bags, and look for somewhere else to spend the night. We might be able to talk about this tomorrow. There had to be some way to make him understand how I felt. I wasn’t as afraid of the man with the gun as I was of the idea of living my life without Chase.

  Twenty

  Somewhere else to spend the night wasn’t as easy as it sounded. Village housing was always overflowing even if it wasn’t the middle of the night. I didn’t want to tell everyone I was moving into the castle—at least not yet.

  I ended up in the Romeo and Juliet pavilion with my head on my bag, shivering in the chilly, damp air. I looked at the stars for a long time and wished I could see the ocean that I knew was so close.

  Maybe tomorrow, I’d take a drive to the beach and lie out in the sun. Maybe I’d meet someone more fabulous than Chase—though I doubted it. Maybe I’d—

  Sheesh! I was beginning to sound like the Chicken Ranch girls leaving Dolly Parton in The Best Little Whore House in Texas. I had to get a grip.

  I could smell the bread baking at the Monastery Bakery long before the smell of coffee drifted by me. I got my stuff together and wandered that way, feeling like a homeless person without a shopping cart.

  Brother Carl, head of the Brotherhood of the Sheaf, was totally sympathetic to my plight. He led me to a small room with a cot and a blanket. I lay down, thinking I’d never be able to sleep on the uncomfortable bed, but I passed out and I didn’t wake up until almost nine.

  Three young monks were watching me as I woke up. They were wearing the black robes of the brotherhood, but I could tell they hadn’t been there long—no flour on them. Only the more experienced monks were allowed to bake.

  “How long have you guys been standing there?” I asked when they didn’t say anything.

  “Only a few minutes,” the smallest one, in the middle, replied.

  “Great. Why are you still here?”

  “Brother Carl told us to serve you in any way necessary
. We’re waiting for your commands, Lady Jessie.”

  Three monks at my command. It was different. Not exactly waking up next to Chase but better than waking up next to some maintenance guy who was about to hose down the Romeo and Juliet pavilion.

  “I really need a shower. Also a large, triple shot mocha. And a cinnamon roll would be nice. Not necessarily in that order.”

  My squires led me to the communal shower area while they went to fetch coffee and a roll. The water was freezing—the monks didn’t have the perks of living in the Dungeon. I guessed I didn’t either anymore. I knew I’d have to find some corner to sleep in that night or I’d have to go home. I wasn’t sure which choice sounded worse.

  But there was coffee, strong and hot, and a cinnamon roll melting with gooey goodness waiting for me after I toweled off and got dressed. I sat down by myself out in the dining area and contemplated the events of the previous night.

  It’s funny how when you argue with someone you love, you can never really understand how it happened when you look back on it. It’s like everything is fine one moment then everything falls apart. I felt like I’d been blindsided by a runaway carriage. There weren’t any wheel marks on my face, but I felt broken up inside.

  I knew Andre would be waiting for me. I was late for work after my promise yesterday not to let it happen again. I knew the little hatmaker was a romantic, however, so I knew my story about fighting with Chase would get me out of it. Maybe he’d even be able to help me find someplace to stay for a while.

  I thanked Brother Carl and his monks for their compassion. Carl took my hands and told me to come back and stay there if I needed to that night. I hugged him and he turned a bright shade of red. It was nice to think I had some real friends in the Village.

  But it was awful to walk past so many of them on the way to the Hat House. I could tell all of them already knew what had happened. My friends looked at me with pity while those other people who weren’t all that crazy about me were laughing. I was sure many of them—especially the fairies, Eloise, and two of the Lovely Laundry Ladies—were measuring themselves for a place in Chase’s bed.

  I didn’t let it bother me. I held my head high and clutched my two heavy bags as I walked to the Hat House. Let them think what they would. They could guess what happened. I didn’t care.

  I knew Andre had heard when I opened the door to the shop and he rushed to hug me. “My poor darling! You should’ve come to me last night. I would’ve taken you in. What kind of man lets the woman he loves sleep outside? I’ve always thought more of Chase than that. I’m planning to give him a piece of my mind.”

  “I’m fine,” I told him. “I’m sorry I’m late, but I fell asleep on the monk’s cot when I went for coffee.”

  “Have you eaten?” he asked. “Don’t worry about being late. Don’t worry about anything. If there’s anything I know, it’s being dumped. Let me know what I can do for you—except kicking Chase’s behind, which I’m sure he deserves but I don’t think I could pull off.”

  I had to smile at that picture. I knew Andre would take my side.

  After I’d assured him that I’d eaten and we found someplace for my bags, we got down to work finishing the little veiled hats for the dancers at the Stage Caravan. Andre promised to have one of the other assistants deliver them so I wouldn’t have to go past the Dungeon. I appreciated his kindness. I wasn’t sure not going by the Dungeon was the answer—it was a small Village. I was bound to run into Chase if I stayed. That would be more difficult than anything else.

  Chase and I had argued before. We probably would again. But Chase wasn’t just another man. Our relationship was longer than one summer like the others had been. My heart wasn’t broken yet. We’d have to find some way to get past this disagreement. I knew that Chase loved me. I felt sure he knew I loved him, too.

  We started working on a new project after the hats for the dancers were out the door. These were three large, plumed hats, which reminded me in many ways of the Chocolatiers’ hats. But these were for three sisters who were planning to visit the Village. All three hats were a deep purple satin, but each had a slightly different design.

  “You see how the brim on this one is deeper,” Andre pointed out. “And this one has a large bow as well as the plume. The sisters wanted the same color and the feather but didn’t want to look exactly the same. I think they’ll be pleased, don’t you, Jessie?”

  I did, and it was fun working on the new designs. If I kept drifting away to think about Chase, it was because I was still exhausted from the night before. Not sleeping could do that to you. It could make you question if you should go running through the Village shouting Chase’s name until he came to find you. It could make you forget that the things that were wrong were still wrong.

  We worked all morning. At lunch, everyone went out. I needed to turn in my costume and get a fresh one but I didn’t want to leave the shop. Suddenly the idea of facing all those people who thought that Chase and I had broken up was too much for me. I felt like hiding underneath all the reams of material cascading around the room. If I was lucky, no one would know I was there.

  “Aren’t you going out?” Andre asked as he brushed threads from his purple tunic.

  “I’m not really hungry. I was thinking I might stay here and take a nap, if that’s okay.”

  “That’s fine.” He tried to put his arm around my shoulders. It was a stretch for him. “But you have to go out sometime. I know it’s hard. But you can’t hide away forever.”

  “I can leave the Village.” I heard myself blurt out these terrible words without realizing I’d said them. How could I leave the Village? This place was the only thing that kept me going.

  “You don’t mean that.” He patted my shoulder and told me to get some rest. “I’ll get you something to eat while I’m out, and later we’ll talk about finding you another place to stay.”

  I hugged him tightly, careful not to hurt him. I could see he was surprised but not unhappy at the gesture. “Thanks, Andre.”

  “I frequently take naps over in that chair by the window. There’s an old blanket over there somewhere. Curl up and close your eyes. I’ll be back soon.”

  I found the chair and the blanket. It was a very comfortable chair. Most of the window was closed over with large pieces of cloth and other hat-making accessories. There was only one little corner I could look out and see what was going on in the Village. I watched the ladies and their gentlemen stroll by, assailed by minstrels, sheep, and beggars as part of the Renaissance experience.

  As I drifted off, thinking they were lucky not to have to watch out for chamber pots being dumped from upper-story windows, I heard the shop door open and close. I started to tell Andre that his chair was very comfortable and that he’d gotten lunch too quickly. I wasn’t ready to get up yet.

  Then I noticed it wasn’t Andre.

  I kept completely still, hoping the yards of fabric would hide me from the private detective who’d held a gun on me. I only saw him for a moment the previous night when the stadium lights came on, but I recognized him. I don’t forget people who hold guns on me.

  He moved stealthily around the congested work area, obviously looking for something. Maybe this was why he’d wanted to question me. I wondered what he thought he’d find here that would help him. I’d been all over the shop and hadn’t seen anything that I thought was suspicious.

  I wondered if he knew there was a reporter in the Village looking for information about Andre and the Hollywood murder. Maybe they were working together. I might be wrong, but I had a feeling Detective Almond wouldn’t appreciate two outsiders stirring the pot.

  I dived down a little farther under the blanket—still managing to peek out. If he found something, I wanted to know.

  Apparently there was nothing downstairs, or he couldn’t find it in all the scraps from every hat Andre had ever made. He went upstairs to the living quarters above the shop, and I heard him rummaging around up there. The pan and spoon clat
tered on his side as he walked across the squeaky wood floorboards above me.

  I waited, hardly breathing, until he came back downstairs again. He left right away—which made me think he’d found something up there. I threw off the blanket as soon as he stepped out the door. Two (or three) could play this game. He’d stalked me like the reporter had. It was my turn.

  It was really easy to follow him even through the crowd of visitors milling around the Village. I was so familiar with my surroundings that I could concentrate on his weird, mustardcolored shirt and floppy hat as he made his way down the cobblestones toward the castle.

  “Oh, Jessie! I heard about Chase. I’m so sorry.” Lady Godiva was taking a break from riding her horse around the Village. She was lounging in the shade of the Queen’s Revenge as it rode at anchor.

  I ignored her. I wasn’t even sure if I knew who she was this year. I certainly wasn’t going to let her get to me.

  I focused on my nemesis as he continued toward the castle, then suddenly veered back on the King’s Highway.

  For a brief moment, I was afraid he knew I was following him. I darted into Eve’s Garden just in case. The smell of herbs and flowers perfumed the air as I watched him through the open doorway.

  He surveyed the area like he was looking for something, then changed direction again and walked in the back door to Our Lady’s Gemstones. He was either in a sudden mood for jewelry or there was something else afoot.

  I waited until I thought he’d had enough time to get inside and feel safe, then I followed him in. Knowing Rene and Renee might be watching me almost made me turn back—but I had to know what the detective had found at the Hat House that had brought him here.

  The back of the shop was a work area with none of the eerie lighting or props of the front. The tables were cluttered with a rainbow of gemstones, settings, and jewelry-making paraphernalia. It was fascinating looking at everything. It would be a great place for an apprenticeship—if the twins left and someone took their place.