by Joyce
“I think you should get permission from Adventure Land to look at the employee records, lady. I think we might both get in trouble otherwise.”
That wasn’t the answer I wanted to hear. I thanked him and left him there fiddling with something I didn’t understand—which was pretty much everything on a computer except how to go on the Internet.
As I was walking out of the tiny office, I saw Merlin approaching from the wide castle entrance. Maybe permission from a part of Adventure Land might be easier than I’d first thought.
“Lady Jessie.” He greeted me with a respectful head bow that knocked his pointed hat off his scraggly white hair. “I hope I find you well.”
“Better than this afternoon when that knight tried to kill me.” I was formulating a plan to get the information I needed, which might or might not include a little blackmail.
“I’m sure no one was trying to kill you,” he said. “Just a little mishap.”
“That’s not what I plan to tell the TV reporter who wants to interview me this evening. I think there’s a killer on the loose in the Village. He killed Father Christmas, and now he wants to kill me. Or Christine.”
Merlin shushed me and glanced around as though someone else might hear. “That could mean the Village being shut down, my lady. I know you wouldn’t want that. We share a great love for this place, you and I. No matter how long you have to be away, you always come back.”
“You’re right,” I agreed. “But something has to be done. If I can’t at least try to find out who was behind that armor on the horse today, I’ll have no choice but to talk to the press. I’m desperate, Merlin. No telling what I might do.”
He looked around again—we were completely alone. Then he pulled me to the side of the entrance. “What do you want? I can’t authorize any pay raises this year. I can get you free food vouchers from some of the shops.”
Free food? I never knew that was possible. I was tempted, but I stayed on track. “I want to see the employee records.”
He laughed. “Oh, is that all? Why didn’t you just say so.” He moved his star-crowned magic wand around in the air. “There you are. All taken care of.”
“Merlin—”
“You can’t look at employee records unless you work for Adventure Land.”
“I work for Adventure Land,” I reminded him.
“That’s not what I mean. You have to be authorized to look at the employee records and work for Adventure Land. You don’t have that clearance.”
“Give it to me then,” I persisted. “I’m going to meet that reporter in thirty minutes at the Pleasant Pheasant. I think I may have been injured trying to get away from that runaway knight this afternoon.”
Merlin made a face like he’d been eating lemons, but finally nodded. “All right. You win. But someone will have to be there with you. We can’t have you running through all the computer files willy-nilly.”
“Bart’s in there right now. All you have to do is tell him it’s okay for me to look at those records.”
“Done.” He looked up at me with his keen eyes narrowed. “Would you really do something to close down the Village?”
Since I hadn’t seen the files yet, I wasn’t admitting to anything. “You’ll never know. Let’s go in.”
Merlin gave Bart the okay for me to scan through the files. Bart shrugged and set up a monitor for me to look at. “This will only be employee files,” Bart said. “You can’t see the inner workings of the Village. Sorry.”
I didn’t care about that. I just wanted to see when Edgar was hired. I thanked Merlin and got to work.
What I hadn’t considered was that thousands of people worked in the Village every year. They came and went like Christmas. Only a small group of permanent shopkeepers and characters kept it going year after year. The rest were like a cast for a major movie production. They were mostly extras who worked for a few days or a few weeks and moved on. Many of them were high school and college drama students, which had something to do with why the Village was so strange.
The files were set up by date on some pages and by name on others. They mostly went back ten years, though the Village had been open for twenty. No doubt most of the remaining files were in paper folders somewhere in the castle waiting for someone to put them into the computer.
“Who knew Robin Hood had so many Merry Men?” I said absently to Bart.
“I know, right? How many does he need? And how many are still out there in Sherwood Forest? They have five acres of trees. There could be a Merry Man behind each one of them.”
There had also been ten Mother Gooses down through the years. They must have all looked exactly the same, because I’d never noticed the change.
The Village had employed hundreds of knights as well, for the joust and other promotional activities. Visitors loved the knights. I took a slight detour here and looked for the knights most recently hired. Of course, that section was set up alphabetically, so I had to trace down the hiring dates individually.
Ten new knights had been hired in the past week. I wrote down all of their names. They were from all over the Southeast, from Virginia to Florida. Apparently, some people didn’t mind traveling if it meant getting paid to wear a suit of armor.
I didn’t know if the geographical information would help me find the knight who’d attacked me and Christine, but it couldn’t hurt to know. I scribbled it down.
“There have been ten William Shakespeares and a dozen Galileos. You know, I thought the same two guys had always played those characters,” I commented to Bart.
Bart kind of humphed but said nothing. He looked absorbed in his own work and didn’t find my observation all that interesting.
It was fascinating reading about all the people who had worked here. I knew Roger Trent had been a bailiff for the Village before Chase. He now created glass art at the Glass Gryphon. He’d been a police officer before he’d come to work here. He’d been injured on the job and had taken early retirement from that life.
But what I didn’t know was that there had been a bailiff before Roger. I laughed out loud when I read the name of the original peacekeeper here. Officer Donald Almond. Now Detective Almond. I would’ve given anything to see a picture of him in tights! Too bad these were only text records.
And all this time he’d called us freaks and weirdos. I couldn’t wait to see him again.
The records listed three Robin Hoods and fourteen Lady Godivas, three of whom had filed sexual harassment charges against other characters in the Village. Of the twelve Green Men who’d come and gone over the years, three had broken their legs falling off of the stilts they used for the part and had collected workman’s compensation as a result. The five Fred the Red Dragons and six blacksmiths, however, seemed to have enjoyed relatively drama-free employment here.
“There’s no mention of the monks being hired,” I told Bart.
He swiveled in his chair to look at me. “That’s because they don’t get paid to work here. Don’t ask me. I guess it’s some kind of religious calling.”
That surprised me only a little. The monks from the Brotherhood of the Sheaf were a little stranger than even the strangest drama student. They’d evolved their own secret society with strict guidelines and ceremonies involving the making of bread.
I finally reached a page of recently hired side characters. Chris and Christine were there—and so was Edgar Gaskin. The new Father Christmas had been hired at the same time that Chris and Christine had been hired. He’d been given a room in the castle instead of normal Village housing.
In the “Hired by” field of Edgar’s database file, Olivia’s name appeared instead of the standard Adventure Land. The queen had hired a second Father Christmas before anything had happened to the first Father Christmas.
“It looks like Christine was right. Edgar was here before Chris was killed.”
Bart grunted and ignored me.
Seven
“Find what you’re looking for?” Bart asked about
an hour later, apparently having noticed my ahas even though he hadn’t responded to any of the comments I’d directed at him earlier.
“I think so. Thanks.”
“So now you can catch the killer?”
“Maybe. I’ll let you know.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
I was about to get up when I noticed something else in the file. Original king and queen of the Village, Chris and Alice Christmas.
There had been another king and queen at the Village! Did anyone else know that? Probably the characters who had been at the Village since it first opened.
I looked at the dates. Chris and his ex-wife had worked as king and queen for only a few months before Livy and Harry jumped onboard.
My mind was racing with the implications of what I’d learned. I almost couldn’t think coherently.
I already knew Livy’d had an affair with Chris and that Chris had been married before. Edgar had a grudge against Chris for turning him over to the Santa Fund for embezzlement. Livy had hired Edgar to take Chris’s place before Chris was murdered. And Chris had been the first king of Renaissance Faire Village.
Did any of that have anything to do with Chris’s death?
I thanked Bart for his help and went out the same way I’d come in.
Chase was waiting for me at the Lady of the Lake Tavern. “Where have you been?”
“Looking up employee records.” I was almost bursting to tell him my news.
“Jessie—”
“What? Merlin told Bart it was okay.” I didn’t go into the circumstances involving that request.
“Why?”
“It’s a long story.”
We sat down at one of the wood tables made to resemble the no-frills furniture of the 1500s or 1600s. The wood was very distressed, unpainted, and heavily stained with food and beer. The workers at the tavern kept the tables clean and rubbed beeswax into the wood each day, resulting in an odd patina.
“Okay,” Chase said. “It looks like we’ve got some time since you didn’t come in and order for us. What’s up?”
I told him about Harry and Livy hiring Edgar Gaskin before Chris had died. “Don’t you think that’s a little strange? It’s not like you can have two Father Christmas figures in the Village at the same time. That would mess with all the little kids’ fantasies.”
We ordered from the menu, such as it was. Even though we’d be paying rather than getting the free after-hours leftovers typically doled out to employees, there wasn’t a normal selection. We had a choice of chicken or cheese with bread and beer.
“I know where you’re going with this,” Chase said when we were alone again. “You think Gaskin killed Chris to get his job.”
“Not really. But that could be part of it.” I leaned across the table closer to him, hoping to prevent anyone overhearing our conversation. “Livy had an affair with Chris. It was years ago.”
“Father Christmas Chris?”
“Yep. Gaskin was directly hired by Livy, not Adventure Land. He’s even staying at the castle. Chris didn’t stand a chance. They were both out to get him.”
Chase drank some beer and shook his head. “Okay, Sherlock. Why would Gaskin need to take Chris’s job, especially this time of year when there are thousands of Santa jobs out there?”
“Elementary, my dear bailiff.” I told him about Chris catching Gaskin stealing money from the Santa Fund. I also explained my theory about Livy possibly wanting to kill Chris. “You know, the whole scorned woman thing. Of course, we’d have to find out if Chris was the one who broke up with Livy. So Livy and Edgar both could have had a motive to kill Chris. I think it’s time to call in Detective Almond. Or should I say Bailiff Almond.”
I couldn’t resist telling Chase about Almond being the first bailiff.
“Please tell me there were pictures.” He laughed.
“Nope. I wish. But I’ll enjoy seeing his face when I tell him.”
“You seem to have the Father Christmas case all sewn up,” he said. “It sounds legitimate, although if your theory about Livy is correct, she’d have to spend the rest of her life killing off everyone she’s ever been with. I’ll give Detective Almond a call in the morning.”
“There’s something else.” I told him about Chris and his first wife being the first king and queen. “Did you know that?”
“No. That was before my time. But Roger probably knows all about it.”
“That’s what I was thinking. I don’t know if it has anything to do with Chris’s death, but it’s a good story. I’d like to hear the rest of it.”
“Me, too. Just be careful how hard you push, Jessie. The person who killed Chris may still be here at the Village. Let’s not get him riled up before we find out who he is.”
The rest of the evening was filled with talking to old friends who stopped at our table. I was surprised that so many residents would pay to eat here when they could eat free at Peter’s Pub or The Pleasant Pheasant. Maybe it was just a fad and would wear off quickly.
The Tornado Twins—Diego and Lorenzo—were kicked out of the tavern for bringing squirt guns in. Of course, that was their thing. Ginny Stewart, the owner, even spit on them as her wenches threw them out the door.
“Those two never learn.” Ginny, always in the same green gown, bent close to Chase so he could have a good look at her enormous bosom. “Let me get you some cheesecake, dearie. I know you work hard out there for us. You deserve some cheesecake.”
“Thanks,” Chase said. “But maybe not tonight.”
“I’ll bring the girl some, too, if you like.” Ginny sighed as though it was a difficult offer to make.
“That’s okay,” Chase insisted. “Next time.”
“All right. But if you find yourself with a craving for…cheesecake, you know where to find me.” She kissed his cheek and moved on.
“That woman,” I muttered. “Someone needs to trim her sails.”
From the table behind us came a voice I always hated to hear. “She pushes the whole meaning of trollop a bit to the edge, eh, Ducks?”
Wanda Le Fey was sitting close enough to touch me. A long shiver went down my spine when I realized she was there.
“Hello, Jessie, Chase.” Master Archer Simmons nodded. “It’s good to see you both.”
“We need to get out of here,” I whispered to Chase.
“The food isn’t here yet,” he reminded me.
“Wanda is almost sitting on top of me. You know what that means.”
“You’re paranoid, Jessie. You’ll be fine.”
“Then switch sides with me. She can’t hurt me if she can’t touch me.” I couldn’t believe he was accusing me of being paranoid about Wanda. Surely he remembered all the things she’d done to me over the years. It isn’t paranoia when you know someone is out to get you.
“Let’s just eat.” The food had arrived, and Chase didn’t want to move. “Eat fast and we’ll leave before she can do anything too terrible.”
I did exactly that. I was finished with my cheese and bread and had drunk the last of my beer long before Chase had finished his chicken. “Are you ready yet?” I asked him, mindful of the side of me near Wanda.
“I was hoping to have another beer. I’m not driving. I think it would be okay.”
“If you hurry.” I held up my hand to attract a serving wench to the table.
“Jessie, you make too much out of Wanda’s sense of humor. It’s a little odd sometimes, but she has a good heart. She’s always there for anyone who gets injured.”
Yeah, I agreed silently. There to misdiagnose and mis-treat.
It took another five minutes for Chase to finish eating and drink most of his second beer. Already the big dinner crowd was dwindling, heading back to their homes around the Village. I kept hoping Wanda would leave, too. Each peal of her wacky laughter made me jump. I knew she was up to no good.
“Okay.” Chase finally gave in. “I’m done. Let’s go home.”
He walked toward the door where Gin
ny was taking cash or Lady Visa. I started to follow him but couldn’t get out of my chair. I tugged at my long skirt. It didn’t appear to be stuck anywhere, but I couldn’t stand up.
Chase came back after paying the bill. “I thought you were in such a big hurry to leave.”
“I can’t get up,” I whispered to him. “Something’s wrong.”
“Aw, what’s wrong, sweetie?” Wanda asked in a fake solicitous tone. “Cat got your tongue? Or does the chair have your butt?”
At that point, she let out a horrible laugh. Her cackles could be heard across the restaurant. I’d have bet even the pirates in the caves under the tavern could hear her.
And then I knew—I was the victim of one of the oldest pranks in the book. At some point, Wanda had glued my gown to the chair.
I’ve been through many embarrassing moments in the Village. But nothing compared to having to sit there while Chase and Wanda cut the skirt from my gown, exposing my chemise and loose-fitting bloomers (not so much Renaissance correct but necessary), while a tavern full of people watched.
I protested Wanda’s aid since she was responsible for the prank, but Chase said he needed her help. What was I going to say?
After I was freed, I stormed out of the Lady of the Lake with one thing in mind—revenge. Residents of the Village loved to prank each other. I’d done my share of it, too. It’s possible some of my pranks were worse than what Wanda had done. There was that time that I had the portable toilet dumpers collect one of their toilets with a pirate inside. That was a good one.
In all fairness, the pirate had already pranked me. He’d had it coming.
Not so, this case. I studiously avoided Wanda and would never have pranked her, mostly because I was afraid of her. But not anymore.
I wasn’t sure what I was going to do to her in return for her prank, which would be all over the Village by morning, but it would be good. It would be something that would live in Village prankdom history for a long time.