Harrowing Hats

by Joyce; Jim Lavene

  She put her hand on my arm and smiled. “I hope you never have to. You and Chase both love it here. Maybe you can always be here.”

  “Maybe.”

  She pulled a necklace over her long hair and handed it to me. “Take this for good luck. Maybe you should take over as the new pirate queen. You were a good pirate, Jessie. After what I saw last night, you wouldn’t have any trouble keeping the scallywags in line.”

  “Did you hear anything from Stewart last night?”

  “No. And please, don’t say that name again around me. I don’t know what was wrong with me, hanging out there with them. You’d think I’d never seen a knight in chain mail or something!”

  “Sorry. Maybe it’s for the best.”

  “No doubt. I think you roasted him good, Jessie. Well done! He deserved what he got. I’m sure he ran home to his daddy.”

  The necklace she handed me was on a silver chain. There was an engraved image of the Queen’s Revenge on the quartz. I started to give it back. “You should keep this to remember the Village.”

  “I have to think about the baby and my marriage now. I can’t think about the Village without wanting to be here. Take care.”

  It was really sad watching her walk away. I hoped she could find what she was looking for and that she could sort things out with her family.

  But I hoped I wasn’t looking at a reflection of myself in years to come. Right now, Chase wanted to be here. What if he decided to move back to Arizona to be with his family? What if we broke up and couldn’t be together here anymore?

  I stood in the middle of the cobblestones and watched the Green Man practice on his stilts while two knights sparred on the Village Green—sans horses of course. The mermaids were getting into their lagoon, and the goose girl was leading her flock around the Village. Who wouldn’t want to be here?

  Before I could become completely depressed, I ran on to the Hat House to find Andre packing his bags. “Where are you going? Are you and Beth combining your shops?”

  “No, I’m afraid not. Beth turned me down.” He drew a deep breath and wiped a tear from one eye. “I don’t blame her. I have nothing to recommend me to her. I made a fool of myself with Eloise. What would someone like Beth want with me?”

  “So, where are you going?”

  “A friend of mine is making a movie in Wilmington. It has a lot of turn-of-the-century costumes, and he needs a hatmaker. I’m leaving to go there tomorrow. Who knows after that? But I won’t be coming back here.”

  I watched him look around the shop as he said it. He was like Crystal—not wanting to leave but feeling compelled to do so. What was wrong with everybody today? Were they all intent on destroying any chance of happiness I had?

  Andre had already dismissed his assistants. He planned to finish the projects he’d taken on when he got to Wilmington. It was depressing, but I helped him pack. Funny how I didn’t even know who he was until this summer. Now the Village would feel empty without him.

  We talked about different things—old movies, hats, life in the Village. He was planning to leave most of his hat-making paraphernalia behind for the next hatmaker. I wasn’t sure there would ever be another one, but I didn’t say so. I could see he was as sad as Crystal. I didn’t need to add anything to that.

  At lunch, he went to the castle to say his farewells to Queen Olivia and King Harold. While he ate with them, I went to meet Chase at Peter’s Pub. It would be nice to see a smiling face after the morning I’d had.

  But it wasn’t to be. Chase had been called to duty when two teenagers tried to sneak into the Village through one of the chinks in the wall that surrounded it. Too bad for them that they came out right where Roger Trent was standing, talking to Bawdy Betty. There was no mercy even for youthful offenders, according to him. Chase had to have security throw them out. Once that happened, they were never allowed in again under the threat of going to jail.

  I wandered around the Village eating a pretzel for lunch. The perfect weather had brought out a large crowd of visitors who wandered with me, looking for souvenirs, buying scarves, gloves, and headwear they couldn’t get in the modern stores. Half of them walked around in something approximating Renaissance wear, munching turkey legs with mustard.

  I saw Belle and Marco sitting together on the Green, a blanket and picnic lunch spread out around them. They were picture perfect—he in his Chocolatier cape, hat, and boots (and the rest of the outfit, too) and she in her lovely white gown with the dainty, chipped straw hat on her head.

  When I saw them together, I knew. Just by looking at them (as Maid Marion had said about Chase and me), I could see they were in love. The quiet, youngest of the two families, who were ignored, cast into lesser roles by their overwhelming siblings. No one even thought about them.

  “Hi. Mind if I sit down?” I invited myself to their intimate picnic.

  “Of course not,” Belle said. “We have enough food for ten. Please, eat with us. Where’s Chase?”

  Nothing like someone being friendly and nice to make you feel guilty about questioning them for murder. “He’s working. I’m just hanging out, waiting until lunch is over to go back to work.”

  “You’re working with Andre at the Hat House, right?” Marco asked, handing me a glass of lemonade.

  “Yep. There’s a lot more to making hats than anyone would ever guess.”

  “Sounds interesting,” Belle said, handing me a little pastry filled with vegetables and gravy, kind of like a potpie you hold in your hand.

  “It is. Thanks. Did you know there is a special, individual hat pin for everyone in the Village? At least everyone Andre has ever made a hat for. No two are quite the same.”

  The way Belle looked at Marco—the way he looked back at her. It made me want to cry.

  “I suppose Andre knows every hat pin.” Marco said in a flat, dull voice.

  “No. He’s been doing this a long time.” I took a sip of lemonade. “He has copies of all of them. What he can’t identify, he can look up in his collection.”

  Forty-three

  I was so sorry I’d even asked to see a photo of the hat pin. Cesar wasn’t really a friend of mine. Why do I get so obsessive about figuring these things out? The police were happy with what they’d found. Belle and Marco could have gone on to live happily ever after.

  Marco held Belle’s hand as he told me what happened. “Cesar couldn’t stand that Bernardo and I wanted to have lives of our own. It was okay for him, just not for us. As soon as he knew Bernardo was seeing Eloise, he went out of his way to make her fall for him. He didn’t want her—he just wanted us to know we couldn’t do anything without him.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t expect this sadness and Marco wanting to make sense of his brother’s murder.

  “He found out about me and Belle. He told me he was going after her next.” Marco looked up at me with his big, sad brown eyes. “I knew he wouldn’t stop until he’d ruined us, like he did Bernardo and Eloise.”

  “I wouldn’t have gone with him,” Belle defended herself. “You shouldn’t have worried about me.”

  He kissed her hand and smiled so sweetly. “You’re my life. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. You just didn’t know Cesar. He would’ve found a way.”

  “So you decided to get rid of him?” I asked.

  “It wasn’t like that. I knew he’d be at the shop making chocolate like always. I went there to reason with him, but he laughed at me. He said I was a stupid little boy—that Belle would be better off without me. I didn’t think about what I was doing. It was like one minute he was standing there laughing and the next I’d hit him in the head and he was in the chocolate.”

  Well, at least it wasn’t premeditated, I thought. Bernardo could testify to that because Marco didn’t think to get the chocolate recipe before he killed his brother. Maybe that would help.

  “But why try to blame Andre?” I wondered.

  “I’m afraid that was my idea.” Belle sniffled a little
and clutched Marco’s hand. “I knew how angry Marco was. I followed him to the chocolate shop. But it all happened so fast. When I found him standing over his brother’s body, I just wanted to protect him. I thought about Cesar and Andre fighting over Eloise. I guess I thought if I stuck my hat pin—somewhere—everyone would think Andre did it. I panicked. The hat pin stuck in his eye. It was an accident. I put the hat over him to add more suspicion to Andre.”

  The real-life account of it made me shiver even though it was a good plan—it almost worked. Not with Andre but with Swayne. “How did you know about Andre’s wife dying that way?”

  Belle shrugged. “Everybody knows.”

  I’d thought much the same myself. It didn’t really surprise me that most of the Village was aware of what happened in Hollywood. We all enjoyed the Internet after closing time.

  “What will happen now?” Marco asked.

  “I don’t know. I’m not the police,” I explained. “I’m not even Chase. I don’t know what to tell you. I guess it’s totally up to you guys what happens. You’ll have to make that decision.”

  Belle’s pretty blue eyes lit up. “You mean you aren’t going to tell anyone?”

  “I think I’ve done enough already.” I got to my feet. “I’m sorry this happened. Thanks for the pastry and the lemonade.”

  “Jessie!” Marco stood up, too, and came close to me. “Thank you for telling us. I want to do what’s right. As soon as I heard that the other man was going to be blamed for Cesar’s death, I knew I had to say something.”

  “Why?” Belle jumped up and grabbed his arm. “She said she won’t say anything. That other man killed at least two other people. What difference does it make if he takes the blame for Cesar’s death, too?”

  “It makes a difference to me,” Marco told her. “Don’t worry, Belle. I won’t mention you having any part in it. You just keep quiet and let me take care of it.”

  They kissed—one of those terrible, angsty kisses. The kind that are either saying good-bye or begging for someone to be different. It was awful—especially knowing it was partially my fault. I just wanted to sit down and cry for them.

  Instead, I left them alone to sort things out. I really didn’t care if Marco turned himself in or not. He wasn’t a threat to anyone like Swayne was. He’d just been browbeaten too long by his brother. He couldn’t take it anymore and something snapped. It could happen to anyone.

  I wanted to go back to the Hat House, but I couldn’t face Andre’s depression yet. I wanted to find Chase and bury my face in his shoulder, but I couldn’t tell him what was wrong. If Marco and Belle decided not to give themselves up, I would have to live with their secret forever. And it wasn’t going to be easy.

  Forty-four

  It was nearly closing time and there was still no word from Marco and Belle. I’d expected to hear about a press conference or something by now. Maybe they’d decided not to turn themselves in. Just because they felt bad about Cesar’s death didn’t mean they wanted to go to jail. I’d left it up to them. Even if they didn’t tell the police what they’d done, I wasn’t telling either. I hoped I felt the same way tomorrow—or the next time I saw Chase.

  I’d spent most of the day getting all of Andre’s gear together. We cleaned up the shop, stacked up the material. I marveled at all the old-time movie posters that had been hidden by hat-making supplies. They looked like originals from 1930s movies like The Wizard of Oz and Gone with the Wind. We took them down carefully and rolled them up. Andre told me stories about his father and grandfather working on some of the most famous movies in the world.

  I put the posters in cardboard tubes for transport, then went to find Andre to ask where he wanted them. He was looking at the scrapbook that he kept after his wife had died. I watched him touch a few photos of Kathleen, lost in his memories. He finally closed the book and put it away to take with him to Wilmington. I asked him about the posters—pretending I hadn’t seen him looking through the scrapbook.

  By six P.M., the shop was cleaned out, hat frames neatly in place. The shop looked sad and empty. It was strange to see it so organized—Andre was careful with everything else but not when he worked.

  It was time to go. I hugged him and said I’d miss him. I dreaded trying to find something else to do the rest of the summer. He hugged me back, then carefully straightened his red tunic.

  The door to the shop burst open as we were about to walk out together. There stood Beth—wild eyed and smelling of too many cigarettes.

  “What are you doing, Andre?” Her voice was husky and breathless.

  “I’m leaving,” he answered, chin held high. “I have an opportunity and—”

  “You can’t leave me now! You said you loved me. You said you want to marry me.”

  “Well, I did—I do! But I didn’t hear from you and I naturally assumed—”

  “And you’re leaving?”

  I echoed Beth’s surprised sentiments. I mean, we’d spent the whole day cleaning and packing—me feeling sorry for him because he said she rejected him. Now I find out she was just making him wait, no doubt for his past transgressions with Eloise. Served him right, too.

  “I think I should go.” I tried to slip out the door and leave them alone.

  “No!” Andre stopped me. “I need a witness to these proceedings and you’re the only person here.”

  “A witness to what proceedings?” Beth asked, big, fat tears rolling down her face.

  Andre took out a beautiful ring (probably meant originally for Eloise, but I wouldn’t say so). He got down on one knee, straightened his clothes, and offered it up to her. “Elizabeth Daniels, my lovely lady, will you have me for your husband?”

  Beth hugged him to her. “Yes, when you put it that way. I certainly will!”

  They kissed, and I realized I was crying, too. Suddenly the sunshine was bright again and the world was a better place.

  “We’ll have a big, Renaissance wedding, the likes of which no one has seen for these many years,” Andre said, smiling through his tears. “There will be unbelievable hats.”

  “And unforgettable costumes!” Beth added.

  They started kissing again and I finally managed to sneak out the door. Maybe Harriet’s Hat House wouldn’t be closing down after all.

  Forty-five

  I was actually whistling under my breath after I left the Hat House and the happy couple. I needed to see Chase, cry all over him while I told him about Andre and Beth, then have him hold me close for as long as possible.

  I started thinking that not everything had to end like Crystal’s experience. There was Roger Trent and Mary Shift, who’d stayed on together in the Village. There was Daisy Reynolds and Bart Van Impe, another couple in love who stayed here. Now there was Andre and Beth. If they could do it, Chase and I could do it, too.

  I was so caught up in thinking about those couples—and what I would wear to the wedding—I didn’t even notice Bernardo bearing down on me until I almost walked into him.

  “What gave you the right to judge?” he screamed at me. “Why didn’t you leave well enough alone?”

  I wasn’t sure what he was talking about at first. Then I understood. “Did they turn themselves in to the police?”

  “Yes!” He snatched his showy hat from his head (I thought about his recent hair plugs) and glared at me. “I was trying to protect them. If anyone should have killed Cesar, it was me. Marco shouldn’t have had to defend Belle from him.”

  “Maybe that’s true,” I agreed. “But they did it—they killed Cesar. They had a choice to make about another man spending time in jail for their crime. I would think you’d be proud of them.”

  “Proud? I’m infuriated. And I blame you. You should’ve left things as they were. Who cares if that other man didn’t kill Cesar? He killed two other people. Marco isn’t a murderer. He doesn’t deserve to be locked away.”

  “This isn’t the way to help your brother.” Chase’s voice came from behind me before I felt him standin
g close. “Get him a good lawyer, Bernardo. Make sure he understands what happened that caused this.”

  “You don’t understand.” Bernardo dropped to his knees on the cobblestones. “It should’ve been me. I should’ve done it. I was too much of a coward and now Marco might be put in jail for the rest of his life.”

  Eloise came running across the cobblestones and put her arms around Bernardo. “You can’t keep blaming yourself—or Jessie. Marco and Belle were right to tell the truth. We have to take care of them now. Come home with me. Let’s decide what we should do next.”

  I was surprised at the depth of emotion in Eloise’s voice. Who knew she felt anything that deeply?

  Eloise helped Bernardo to his feet and dusted off his fine hat. “Excuse us, Bailiff, Lady Jessie. Thank you for your help. We must take our leave now.”

  The pair walked off together toward the other side of the Village. Chase put his arms around me, and we watched them go. We stood that way for a long time until one of the goat girls giggled at us and urged the goat pulling her cart to go around us.

  “Are you okay?” Chase asked me.

  “I think so.” I smiled up at him. “I know so. You won’t believe what happened today.”

  “If it’s better drama than a murder, two suspects turning themselves in, and you pranking one of the Knights Templar, I don’t want to know.”

  But he smiled when he said it, and I knew it would be all right. And Bernardo and Eloise were another couple who would be here together. An impressive group that would continue to inspire me.

  “Never mind.” I took his hand. “Let’s go home.”

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  Ye Village Crier

  Hear ye! Hear ye! Is there anything better than a day at the Renaissance Faire? The food, the fun, the jousts! Spending a day at Renaissance Faire Village is like stepping back in time to mingle with the lords, ladies, fools, and knaves who inhabit the Village. The marketplace is full of wonderful things from around the world that you might never see again. Shopping is a must!