Fatal Fairies (Renaissance Faire Mystery Book 8) (23 page)

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Authors: Joyce Lavene,Jim Lavene

Tags: #Fantasy & Magic, #mystery

BOOK: Fatal Fairies (Renaissance Faire Mystery Book 8)
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“No! You’re crazy,” Isabelle squealed. “Stay away from me. Keep him away from me, Jessie. You’re the Bailiff. Do something!”

That wasn’t helping.

Sir Reginald took out a gun. “Crazy am I, wench? I’ll show you!”

“Now would be a good time for some fairy magic,” I muttered. “I wish I could get out of this without anyone getting hurt. Starshine?”

She didn’t appear, and there was no
poof
of magic that put Sir Reginald in handcuffs and left him waiting for the police. Fair-weather fairies. You just couldn’t count on them to do anything useful.

It was up to me. We had to get away from him long enough to call for help.

While he was glaring at Isabelle, I pushed him hard. He fell backward, and the gun went off. Lucky he didn’t hit anyone.

“You know it’s illegal to have a gun in Renaissance Village,” I said.

“Why you—”

“Run!” I said to Isabelle, grabbing her arm.

“Call the police!” She half ran, half stumbled out of the Dungeon.

We hid against the side of the building, caught between the sounds of the party still going on at
Stage Caravan
and Sir Reginald cursing and banging as he removed his armor.

I turned on the radio, but it wasn’t working.
Please charge
. I hit it a few times but nothing.

“What’s wrong?” she whispered. “Why isn’t it working?”

“It needs to be plugged in.” How many times had I heard Chase complain about the radios not having a long enough charge?

“Great! What now?”

“We run.”

Not a problem for me, but Isabelle tripped on her pretty gown and fell to the ground after only a few steps.

“I think I twisted my ankle,” she moaned.

Of course. Like a bad movie.

“Not now.” I urged her to her feet. “He’s coming!”

Without his armor, and completely crazy, Sir Reginald was after us like a hound after two foxes. He kept calling Isabelle but didn’t shoot anything else. He was probably reserving his bullets for us.

Lucky us.

Isabelle and I couldn’t run, but we hobbled away in the darkness. We finally reached the relative safety of
Stage Caravan
. The lights were low, but there were still people talking and playing their mandolins.

“Having someone else here will protect us,” I told Isabelle. “And maybe someone has a cell phone.”

But as soon as Sir Reginald arrived, he shot three times in the air. What few people were there ran away in a panic. Isabelle and I stood on one side of the the darkened stage, but we would have to pass right in front of the stage lights to get back to the cobblestones. He’d see us for sure.

 Behind the stage was only an old privy and some trees.

“He’s going to see us,” Isabelle whispered. “There’s no way around the stage with him standing there.”

“We need a diversion.” I stared at Sir Reginald. “I’ll make some noise over here and when he starts toward me, you go the other way. You’ll end up at the blacksmith’s shop.”

“I can’t do that. I can barely walk. I’ll make noise, and you get away. Find someone who can call the police.”

It was hard for me to imagine that Isabelle could be brave and self-sacrificing. I’d never known her to be that way. She was right, of course. I’d have a better chance of getting away. Except that if I left her, Sir Reginald would probably kill her before I could get back with help.

“That’s not going to work, but I have another idea. You go over there and hide in the privy. I don’t think he’s crazy enough to look in there, do you?”

“My dress will be ruined,” she complained. “I’ll never get the smell out of it.”

“You can get another dress. We’re talking about your life, Isabelle. After you get in there, I’ll lead Sir Reginald away. You find someone with a phone. Or maybe we’ll get lucky and both of us will find someone with a phone. Now get over there. This is as good as it gets.”

She still whined and complained about it, but she hobbled to the old privy and stepped inside.

I smiled as I thought of her in the abandoned wooden outhouse. No one knew who’d left it here. The Village used the modern plastic kind that a truck came and emptied every few days. The wooden one covered a hole dug in the ground. We joked about it, but most residents never went near it.

It was a gamble that there was enough of Sir Reginald’s arrogance in his addled head that he wouldn’t stoop so low to look in there. Then I realized I would have to stay and watch to make sure he didn’t find Isabelle. Maybe that was more heroic than I’d ever thought of myself, but I had taken on the office of Bailiff. Chase was strong and brave. I could be too.

“What are you waiting for?” Starshine asked. “Run away. Find someone to call for help.”

I peered from behind the back of the stage. “I have to know if she’s safe. Then I can run.”

“You’re letting this whole thing about being the Bailiff relieve you of your common sense, Jessie. You don’t even like Isabelle, and competed for Chase with her. I’m sure you would’ve been glad to duel with her like Canyon did with Chase.”

“This is different.
Shh
. He’s coming this way.”

The few colored lights from the stage glinted on the large gun he held before him as he walked past me and toward the privy. Starshine stayed where she was at my side. Neither of us moved as he went by.

For just an instant I thought about tackling him and taking the gun away. But even though Sir Reginald was probably in his sixties, he was in fair condition. If I was wrong in even one move, I could be dead, with Isabelle following soon after. I had no doubt that if he shot me, she would scream and run out.

I held my breath as he walked to the privy. I could barely see him glance at it, but I knew the stench was terrible. He covered his face with his free hand and quickly walked away.

Thank you
.

He came around the other side of the stage, moving temporary scenery and searching through chairs with his gun ready. He finally gave up a few minutes later and started across the cobblestones toward the King’s Highway. There were lights, music, and laughter at Baron’s. He was probably going there.

That was fine with me. I knew a dozen merchants who lived upstairs from their shops if I walked toward the castle. That would keep me away from him and get the police here at the same time.

But I hadn’t reckoned with Isabelle’s low tolerance for stench. She pushed open the cracked wooden door and stumbled out of the privy, coughing and complaining. I ran to shush her, putting my hand over her mouth as I saw Sir Reginald start back toward us.

“This way,” I urged her. “We can hide behind the Dungeon until he passes us again. Quiet.”

 

Chapter Twenty-five

 

The area in front of the shops and along the cobblestones was mostly kept in good repair with daily use of lawnmowers and trimmers. No one wanted a visitor to stumble or catch their costume in tall grass or weeds.

Behind the shops and rides was a different story. As long as there wasn’t any trash back here, the city didn’t care how high the grass was, and neither did Adventure Land. This was a no- man’s land scattered with cigarette butts and the occasional plastic chair or stump where residents hung out.

This was where Isabelle and I carefully stumbled behind the new privies and the big Tree Swing. Isabelle wouldn’t hold her skirt up for fear a snake would bite her, and nothing I could say made any difference. Her ankle was hurt, and she favored it heavily by leaning against me.

Of course this would be a night when no one was outside smoking, singing, or fooling around in the dark where they wouldn’t be seen. We had to keep going until we reached the back of the Dungeon where we paused to rest for a moment.

“I can’t go on,” Isabelle said dramatically. “I’m in so much pain. I need someone to carry me.”

I couldn’t see her face in the darkness to know if she was joking.

“I’m not carrying you. I’m not Chase or Canyon. You’re going to have to limp along until we find someone or I’ll have to leave you here.”

“You wouldn’t leave me, Jessie. You didn’t leave me back there. I think you have the same outdated ideas about loyalty and bravery like Chase does. I guess you two really belong together.”

“Now isn’t a good time to test that theory,” I murmured, listening for Sir Reginald. I knew she was trying to get what she wanted by any means necessary. It was what she’d always done with Chase.

“I don’t know what else to do.” She sobbed. “I can only stand so much agony.”

By this time, I was certain that someone from
Stage Caravan
would’ve alerted the police. Or someone at the castle would have heard shots fired in the Village. Where were the police sirens? Someone should have been here by now. I shouldn’t have to drag Isabelle all the way to the castle.

She was moaning. Short of putting a gag in her mouth, I didn’t know what to do. Isabelle was small but not small enough for me to carry.

“Come on,” I said. “You’ve rested long enough. The
Jolly Pipe Maker shop
is next. If we’re lucky, maybe someone will be out there playing checkers.’

“Who?”

“Never mind. Let’s go.” I helped her to her feet. I could barely walk because she was leaning so heavily against me. “You have to shift some of your weight, Isabelle. We aren’t going to get anywhere like this.”

“Are you saying I’m fat?”

“No. I’m saying I’m not a pack mule. You have to move your feet too.”

“You’ve never liked me, Jessie.” She started crying again. “It was always more than just about Chase. You hate me, don’t you?”

“Of course I don’t hate you. I just want to get out of here before Sir Reginald finds us.”

“I always wondered why you wanted to take Chase from me. Now I know.”

“Shut up and walk, Isabelle. It’s not time for you to die yet—at least I don’t think it is.”

Her face was very close to mine. “Are you saying you wish I was dead even though I agreed to give up Chase for you?”

“I don’t wish you were dead. But you had nothing to do with me and Chase getting together. Please try to walk. Sir Reginald could be on us if we don’t get out of here.”

She sat down hard in the grass along the side of the cobblestones and refused to move. “I’m tired. My feet hurt. I probably have a concussion, and I smell like privy. I’m not moving until someone comes for me.”

 “Not a problem, my dear.” Sir Reginald was right behind us. He shoved the gun in my face. “Jessie, you and I have unfinished business once I take care of this little slut.”

“Slut?” Isabelle started crying again. “Why are people always saying mean things about me?”

He raised the gun toward her head. “Goodbye, my lady.”

I probably should have reacted. Thrown myself between the gun and Isabelle, but I was too tired and disgusted with her to care.

She screamed but there was no gunshot. The lights were dim but not dim enough that I couldn’t see Sir Reginald trying to fire the gun over and over. The click of the trigger brought no response. He was out of bullets.

Sighing at my fate, I threw myself against him. He managed to hit me a few times in the arm with his gun before I got it away from him. He was strong, but I had him at a disadvantage since I was on top of him, beating him with my fists and kicking him.

I heard Isabelle get to her feet. I was foolish enough to think she was going to jump on him too. Instead she vanished into the darkness, screaming for help. Maybe that would bring someone from one of the parties into our direction. Maybe not. I held on to Sir Reginald and kept pummeling him until he was lying still beneath me.

Exhausted, I rolled off him and on the grass. I could barely catch my breath. I heard people running in our direction. The stadium lights from the Village Green came on. Suddenly I could see everything.

Sir Reginald was gasping for breath too. His face was white and drawn. A police car came through the Main Gate with lights and sirens blaring. A few residents stood away from me and Sir Reginald watching to see what would happen next.

Knowing what I did about the other Sir Reginald, I immediately started CPR on him. It was weird putting my mouth on his after punching him there a few minutes earlier. I pushed hard on his chest to make him breathe and finally someone pulled me aside and took my place.

“Are you okay, Jessie?” Chase asked.

I looked at Canyon. He was on the ground with Sir Reginald. “I think he had a heart attack.”

“We saw Isabelle. She told us what happened. A few people from
Stage Caravan
had come over to Baron’s talking about a fight. We just didn’t know they were talking about you.”

Chase put his arms around me, and I leaned against him. I don’t know how Bailiff-like it was, and I didn’t care. The ambulance finally arrived and had to push Isabelle aside to make room for Sir Reginald, promising they would send another vehicle back for her.

Sir Reginald might recover from his heart attack here. One of the paramedics said that some people went out of their heads when they were having problems with their heart—something about not getting enough oxygen to the brain. Maybe the crusty, old knight would still make it to fulfill his job as manager of the castle.

“Are you sure you don’t need to go to the hospital?” Chase asked as we started walking toward the castle. All the outside lights were on now making the Village much brighter. Dozens of residents had come out to see what was going on.

“I’m fine. Just a little sore. Nothing a hot shower won’t help.”

“I think we can take care of that, and I do a pretty good back rub too.” He smiled down at me. “You know, all of this has started me thinking about what you said.”

“That you should be the next Bailiff?”

“Yes. I was glad I could be there when the horse crashed into the bleachers. I wish I could’ve been here to protect you and Isabelle. I think I could be good at it.”

“I think you’re right. We’ll have to have some kind of duel or something to see who gets to be Bailiff.”

He stopped walking. “Canyon said he’s not interested anymore.”

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