Book Read Free

Treacherous Toys

Page 15

by Joyce


  “I’m just going to use the bathroom,” I said.

  “Clean it up when you’re done,” Esmeralda scolded.

  I could hear Chase and her talking as I left them in the bedroom. That would’ve been my first choice of areas to look through, but the bathroom and living room would have to do.

  I searched through drawers and cabinets, under the sofa, in the medicine chest and the closet, anywhere one could potentially hide damning information or evidence. I didn’t find anything that would help confirm my belief that Edgar had killed Chris. I wasn’t really sure what I was looking for—which might’ve been part of the problem.

  The murder weapon had already been discovered in Christine’s possession. Nothing I found here would be as incriminating as that. Edgar must have put the gun in the manor house. What other evidence could there be?

  I found his cell phone and looked through his calls. There were plenty of calls to one number, which turned out to be Livy’s cell phone. I stayed away from that. If Livy was involved in Chris’s murder, there had been no suspicious activity or evidence to back that up. I was probably better off concentrating on Edgar as my suspect.

  He’d left his laptop on. I could hear Esmeralda still venting to Chase about everything she considered of importance at the castle. I took the few minutes to scroll through the files I could access. There were pictures, a few e-mails. Nothing that seemed to have anything to do with Chris’s death.

  A few of the e-mails made me go back and look at the cell phone again. He and Livy were definitely chatting a lot. The tone of the words between them wasn’t friendly at all. In fact, it had me wondering if Edgar was blackmailing Livy for something besides a stint playing Father Christmas at the Village.

  Livy was obviously frantic for Harry not to find out that she and Edgar had been a couple for a short while. I was surprised to learn that their affair had taken place only a few months before Livy found out she was pregnant. It made me think again about Harry’s demanding a paternity test when he’d first learned of the pregnancy.

  On the other hand, Harry was sleeping with Christine up until today, as far as I knew. I should never be surprised by anything either of them did.

  I sat on the sofa and looked around the expensively decorated room. Everything was in high Renaissance fashion but with all of the modern conveniences. Not a thing was out of place. It didn’t even look like anyone was staying there.

  I was disappointed. Had I missed the big score by not being able to search the bedroom? I wandered back that way and saw Chase helping Esmeralda make the bed. He probably felt guilty about putting her through that extra work.

  “And talk about security,” she was saying. “What about someone pushing the king down the stairs into the basement? I know people get angry at him, but shouldn’t there be some safeguards against things like that happening?”

  “Absolutely.” Chase sounded as though he’d agreed to too many things already. “Do you have any idea how that happened? Harry seems unwilling to talk about it.”

  “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Maybe we need security cameras in here. I can’t keep my eyes on everything all the time. I heard that someone saw a kid come up the stairs after Harry went down them. I don’t know who said it or who the kid was. It might not be true. Maybe Harry was just clumsy and wanted to blame it on someone else.”

  “It was a kid who came after me and Christine the other day, too,” I added to the conversation.

  “Christine?” Esmeralda glanced at me as she stuffed pillows into fresh cases. “Who’s that? Is that the new Lady Godiva?”

  “I thought news traveled faster than that.” I explained that Christine was Chris’s wife. “She was arrested for his murder tonight.”

  “I guess we aren’t as screwed up as that,” she said. “But maybe we can put out a Village APB on this unknown kid, huh, Chase? I don’t like the idea of some young punk hanging around waiting to push one of my girls around.”

  “I’ll get right on it.” Chase stood up after giving the bedspread one last pat. “Thanks for all your input, Esmeralda. If anyone knows this place from ground to ceiling, it’s you.”

  “Next time, ask me about new rules we need for castle guests,” she said. “But you better have a few hours to listen.”

  She ushered us out of Edgar’s rooms and locked the door behind her. Chase gave her a formal bow and kissed her hand. She giggled like a schoolgirl.

  “Well that was a waste of time,” I remarked as we went back to the feast.

  “Not really,” he said. “She actually had some good ideas on castle security. Most of them would cost more money than Adventure Land would be willing to spend on the problems, but now I know about them. Maybe I can find some creative solutions.”

  “But we aren’t any closer to helping Christine get out of jail.”

  He put his arm around me. “We’re going to have to deal with that in the morning, Jessie. Maybe we can find some new ideas for that, too.”

  A few people remarked on our being gone for part of the feast. Most of them did a lot of smiling and winking—they thought we’d been sharing a private moment in some secret corner of the castle.

  Chase and I laughed but didn’t say where we’d been, which made us look even guiltier. Livy had a few angry words about it, but she was probably just envious because no one had invited her to sneak out.

  Chase had been right about the kids. They’d been having a great time tossing little chicken bones down at the jesters in the arena, yelling “Huzzah!” and cheering on their favorite knights. They hadn’t even missed us.

  It seemed as though I’d been right about taking them to the castle to help them forget, if only for a little while, what was happening in their lives. Their little faces were red and excited, eyes shining as they told us about everything we had missed.

  Edgar was seated with the royal party, too, of course. He was his usual nasty self for the remainder of the feast. I heard him say several times that the children weren’t going to be part of the show again. They’d upstaged him with their infectious enthusiasm.

  Livy winced every time Edgar spoke to her. I thought about their e-mails and phone calls. He was definitely using what he knew to his advantage. It made me feel protective toward Livy—a strange and unaccustomed experience. It wasn’t necessarily a feeling I enjoyed. But I couldn’t think of any way to help her out either.

  She’d literally made her own bed, et cetera. Still, Edgar was taking full advantage of her at a time when she couldn’t defend herself and couldn’t ask anyone for help without giving away her secret. It seemed to me there should be some way to make this backfire on him.

  When the feast was over, Livy was immediately escorted to her chambers by her unhappy ladies-in-waiting. Jane’s mouth was pursed like she’d eaten a lemon. Chase asked me to wait a few minutes while he took the kids down to meet the knights in the arena.

  Harry hung back and touched my arm. “I know about Christine,” he whispered as the royal box emptied. “If there’s anything I can do to help—”

  “Find Chris’s real killer,” I suggested. “We both know she didn’t kill him.”

  “I wish I could help.” He dusted an imaginary crumb from his regal red and black costume. “If any of my royal spies hear anything, I’ll be sure to let you know.”

  His attitude of being above it all grated on my nerves. He was as dirty in the trenches as Christine was—there just wasn’t anyone to harass him about it.

  Except me. “Have the police called you yet?”

  He looked a little worried. “No. Should they?”

  “The police know Christine was having an affair. It’s one of the reasons they charged her with Chris’s murder. I’m sure they’ll be curious to know who she was having an affair with. It seems to me that person could be considered an accomplice. Or possibly even the killer, for that matter. You didn’t kill Chris, did you, Your Majesty?”

  Harry was seriously agitated by then. He was a little p
ale and breathing fast. “How now, Lady Jessie? What matter of question is that?”

  Chase joined us. That meant an extra seven pairs of eyes looking at Harry, as the children had come along.

  “It’s a legitimate question, King Harold,” Chase said. “Did you or didn’t you kill him?”

  The king seemed acutely aware of his interested audience. “Of course I didn’t kill anyone. What possible reason would I have to kill—that person.” He apparently didn’t want to say the name with the children present.

  “I can think of one or two reasons,” I added. “To have that person’s wife all to yourself. And there’s the little matter of that person having an affair with your wife. Both of those could be considered motive.”

  I was pretty sure we weren’t fooling the kids at all, especially since none of us were skilled in hiding things from children.

  Harry drew himself up to his full, less than regal, height. “We shall consult our royal attorney on this matter this very night. I thank you both for your valuable information. But know that I am not involved in what happened to that person. However, I shall do everything in my power to help Christine.”

  He left with his courtiers, no doubt royally rattled. Good. Christine was spending the night in jail because of their affair. I hoped Harry didn’t get a good night’s sleep either.

  Chase and I took the kids back to the manor house. If they’d caught on to our conversation with Harry, they didn’t give anything away. They were tired but excited by the event. None of them could stop talking about it. They all enjoyed the funny parts of the show, but the girls liked the elegant gowns and the horses best. Garland and Nick favored the swords and jousts.

  We walked in a group through the darkened Village. The candles throughout the shops and residences made the whole place glow. The kids screeched and ran around through the snow, except for Hope who was asleep on Chase’s shoulder.

  Snow was shooting from the castle. The effect was enchanting. The little crystals of frozen water caught the light as they cascaded down on us and covered most of the Village in white.

  “It was fun messing with Harry,” I said as we watched all the kids—even the staid and responsible Merry Beth—run and play in the frozen white stuff.

  “It gave him something to think about anyway,” Chase replied. “Royal spies. What a joke.”

  “I thought maybe he was talking about you.”

  He brushed some snow from my hair. “Yeah. Right.”

  “Not that it really makes any difference. I still don’t think Harry had anything to do with Chris’s murder.”

  “Maybe not.” Chase stooped down and picked up some snow. He made a perfect round ball out of it. “But somebody had to do it, Jessie. I agree with the police. Christine is a perfect suspect. But Harry could have been involved.”

  I watched as he threw the snowball at Nick. “What about Edgar? He’s definitely blackmailing Livy. And his personality sucks. Why couldn’t Chris’s murder be a crime of opportunity? He was here and needed the job so he killed Chris.”

  “Not very compelling,” he said. “Especially in comparison to his wife and his wife’s lover.”

  That was about all the rational conversation we got to have for a while. Nick returned Chase’s snowball and before I knew it, all of us were involved in a snow-battle free-for-all. I’m sorry to say that I had to declare Team Christmas the winners. They pelted Chase and me with so much snow that we looked like we’d been through a blizzard.

  Lucky for us, the snow melted right away. It was embarrassing to be beaten down by little kids. We were going to have to pick something we were better at to get our revenge.

  It was late when we finally got back to the manor house. Merry Beth supervised as the kids got ready for bed. There was a mad rush to the bathrooms and out again to change into pajamas. Then everyone ran back to the bathrooms to brush their teeth.

  They were all a little rowdy after all the excitement and began using their toothbrushes as lances and swords. Either Joy or Star (I couldn’t tell them apart) sat on Garland’s back and began riding him like a horse. We had to put a stop to that right away.

  “I guess this is what it would be like if we were an old married couple with kids,” I said to Chase with a smile as we passed each other in the hall between bedrooms.

  “But not in the Dungeon,” he replied. “We’d have to pick up a craft and get a house with a shop underneath.”

  “You’ve always loved the idea of making swords,” I reminded him, liking his train of thought.

  “Have you seen Jolly in all of this?” he asked.

  “I don’t think so, but there are a lot of them.”

  We got everybody settled into their beds, and I read Christmas stories to the youngest ones while Chase looked around the house for Jolly.

  “No sign of him,” he told me after all of the kids were finally down for the night.

  “He’s older,” I said. “Maybe he wanders around on his own. Tony and I did when we were his age. We used to sneak out a lot.”

  “Ever get in any trouble?”

  I thought back to all the trouble we did get into. “Oh my God—we already lost one of them and it’s only the first night.”

  “I already called security. We’ll go out and look for him. You stay here with the other kids and the phone. I’ll call if I see him.”

  I waited with phone in hand after Chase left. All the time, I was thinking about the rogue knight and what had happened to Harry on the castle stairs. Both times there was a young man involved in the incidents.

  Could Jolly have a part in all of this? He was angry at his parents and bitter about his life. Not that his attitude was unusual for his age. But maybe he’d decided to do something about it. Maybe he knew about Harry and Christine, too. He might have attacked Harry.

  I hated myself for even thinking it was possible. He was just a kid with problems. Where was my sympathy for the angst of youth?

  A minute later, Jolly walked in the front door. He was dirty. His clothes were messy and torn, and he was covered with blood.

  He’d come back on his own—I hadn’t heard anything from Chase. Maybe that was a good sign.

  “We were worried about you, Jolly,” I told him. “Are you hurt?”

  “I just fell down.” He looked at his hands, which were also dirty and covered in blood. “I was out at the jousting field. Can I get washed up now?”

  My cell phone rang. It was Chase. “No sign of Jolly,” he said in a terse voice. “But I was called to the castle. Someone stabbed Harry.”

  Eighteen

  I looked at Jolly—covered in blood that I sincerely hoped was his. “Thanks, Chase. Jolly is here now. Keep me posted.”

  “Okay. I’ll get back when I can. Are you all right there by yourself?”

  “Fine. Don’t worry. Everything is fine.”

  My brain was frantically trying to process everything as I slowly closed my cell phone. I wasn’t sure what to do or say. Maybe all of this was coincidence—I prayed it was just coincidence.

  But what if it wasn’t? How would we know unless Jolly confessed?

  “What happened to you?” I couldn’t hold back. I knew I should probably wait for his mother, but I had to know.

  “I got hurt a little. You don’t have to make a big deal out of it.”

  “A little? You’re covered in blood. Where did you get hurt?”

  “I don’t know. Out in the Village. You’re not the police or my mother. You don’t get to ask me personal questions.”

  I could remember myself being this way when I was his age. I gave my grandmother so much grief. I wished I could take it all back.

  “You’re right,” I finally said. “I’m not your mother. She loves you, and you’re making her life miserable. I’m glad you’re not my responsibility. But someday, you’re going to look back on this and want to kick yourself for being such a jerk.”

  “So can I get cleaned up or what?” Jolly asked again.

&
nbsp; “Of course. Sure. Go right ahead.” I was still steaming and scared at the same time. I didn’t want to think how terrible it would be for Christine if Jolly was also in serious trouble.

  “What’s going on with Chase?”

  “He’s looking into some things. He’ll be back later.”

  He nodded and passed by me going toward the bathroom. “Is there anything to eat? I’m starving.”

  “I’m sure we can find something. Get washed up and we’ll look.”

  I wished there was someone to call in times like this. I didn’t want to accuse Jolly of anything. On the other hand, if he knew something that could help Christine, he should come forward.

  I waited in the kitchen with a jar of peanut butter, a jar of grape jelly, and an almost empty gallon of milk. If we were going to continue to take care of Christine’s children, Chase and I would have to go shopping. How much food could eight children consume in a day?

  Jolly joined me, showered and changed. “Any word about my mom?”

  “No. I’m sorry. There’s nothing yet.”

  He sat down at the wood table and made two sandwiches, both with holes in them from pulling too hard on the bread. I kept reaching out to help him, then pulling back. He wasn’t a baby.

  He didn’t seem to mind about the holes, bolting the sandwiches down, then swallowing them with the last of the milk.

  “You don’t have to stand here and watch me,” he said. “I’m old enough to take care of myself and everyone else. You don’t have to put yourself out for us. We’ve lived without real parents for a long time.”

  It sounded like he might want someone to talk to—despite his bitter words. The fact that he’d said anything besides the traditional teenage pity-party refrain was promising.

  “I think your parents love you. Maybe they haven’t done everything you thought they should. But they seem to care about you. All of you look healthy, you have clothes to wear. They do what they can.”

  I wasn’t prepared for his angry outburst—or the empty milk jug being tossed across the room.

 

‹ Prev