Ghastly Glass (22 page)

“How’s your ankle this morning?” Chase asked after Roger told me it was fine to take lunch.

I glanced up at him, hoping the disdain I felt was apparent on my face. “I’m
sure
it really matters to you since you didn’t leave me a note or anything before you left this morning. What was so important that I had to wake up to the invisible man? ”

“Detective Almond asked me to come into town and talk to the chief of police about the Village. They have some concerns.”

“So
that’s
what Lilly was talking about this morning.” A burly woman dressed like a Viking brushed by me, almost knocking me into the tent set up for a traveling palm reader. “And that’s why there are so many people here today. We’ve gotten lots of bad publicity.”

“That’s right. And that’s why I had to leave, my dear Watson.” He smiled at me and pulled me to the side before another visitor, this one dressed like Frankenstein’s monster, could mow me down. “Am I forgiven? ”

“Are you buying lunch? ”

“You’re a cheap date, Jessie Morton. I might’ve sprung for more than lunch if you’d played it right.”

I stood up close to him in the shade of Bawdy Betty’s Bagels and kissed him slowly and carefully. It is one of the many things I excel at.

When I was through, we were both breathless and crushed up against the side of the building. People were smiling in that way they do when they see other people kissing. It’s a combination of
I’d never do that in public
and
I wish I was doing that.

“How was that for playing it the right way?” I asked him.

“Forget lunch. We’re not that far away from Debby’s place. I wouldn’t mind being hungry for a while.”

I laughed. He always makes me laugh. “I’d like to oblige you, but I need food and a change of clothes. I have to accomplish both these tasks in one hour. You’ll have to wait your turn since you skipped out on me this morning.”

He glanced up at Bawdy Betty’s sign. “I guess this place is as good as any then.”

We sat down to a lunch of bagels, pickles, and cheese, along with some warm beer (Betty’s fridge was on the fritz). There was a light crowd in the shop, but outside, the visitors were going by the window in droves. I guess they weren’t hungry, just looking for dead people.

“None of this makes any sense,” Chase said around his bagel. “What’s someone hoping to achieve? ”

“Maybe they wanted to bring in a hundred thousand more people this year,” I suggested. “If so, they’re doing a good job.”

“But you and Roger could’ve been seriously hurt when that sign fell.”

“That might’ve meant an extra-extra hundred thousand.” I put my bagel down. “You know, Chase, not everyone sees things in terms of right or wrong. People do things emotionally without thinking about the consequences.”

He considered what I’d said. “I know you’re right. But would someone go so far as to kill Ross to bring in more customers? I don’t think so. There has to be something else.”

“You talked to the police. What do they think? ”

“They think the Village was always doomed to become the hotbed of crime in Myrtle Beach. I think they have too much empty space between their ears.”

“Don’t they have any ideas about Ross? Have they checked out his background to see if he had any enemies?”

“I don’t know. When I try to get specifics from Detective Almond, he goes all Jack Webb on me, quoting the rules and regulations. I don’t know what they’re doing, Jessie. I feel like we’re alone out here on this one.”

“And all the other ones.” I slumped in my chair, unable to eat the rest of my bagel. It was depressing that all of this was going on in my beloved Village and no one, except us, would lift a finger to help.

We sat there together totally depressed for a few minutes as we watched the crowds go by. Eventually Lilly Hamilton walked past with her human camera in tow. She was definitely someone I didn’t want to see. The woman was completely obnoxious.

“I have to go take my costume back to Portia and see if she’ll give me something else to wear that won’t catch on fire.”

“I’d like to go with you, but I have vegetable justice again in a few minutes.”

“Why don’t you let Lonnie take care of it like Jeff did last summer?”

“Lonnie isn’t quite as handy as Jeff. I wish he was. The poor little guy has two left thumbs. He’s always hurting himself. I’ve never seen so many bruises on a person. Except for you.” He smiled at me and played with my fingers on the tabletop. “So, dinner and a movie tonight?”

“Like we’re leaving the Village for that long right now.” I stood up and stretched. Sitting in one place can be exhausting. “I’ll settle for dinner sans pirates throwing me overboard and no marshmallow cream heaped on the Village. Maybe we can make our own entertainment.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t take back that Joan of Arc costume yet,” Chase suggested. “I love a woman in armor.”

“Too expensive!” I kissed his cheek and whispered in his ear, “But I was recently seen shopping at Cupid’s Arrow. I might have something amusing for you.”

Of course just then his radio went off (stupid radio) and he answered quickly, telling someone he’d be there right away. “Someone ate too many brats over at Baron’s. I wonder if there’s any way to incorporate the word
barf
into that name. It happens all the time over there. Maintenance is always complaining.”

We kissed briefly, then went our separate ways through the crowd. I crossed past Galileo’s place, where he was talking to a group of kids about the stars. The King’s Highway was packed. Two carriages pulled by black horses came through, making the congestion worse. In one of them was the ghost of Good Queen Bess. Personally, I think her appearance is more effective at night. In the daylight she just looks kind of gray, and not so scary.

I walked past the entrance to Sherwood Forest as any sane person would. I’d known residents who’d disappeared in there for days, coming out like they were drugged, clutching toaster ovens. Not a pretty picture.

This took me past Our Lady’s Gemstones, very near the lake. Between Sherwood Forest and the gemstone store was a large group of privies. Imagine my amazement when I saw my good friend Rafe step into one of those privies.

But, I thought,
You don’t have time for this
. True, it was a perfect setup for revenge. I’d seen many different privy pranks through the years. Any of them would be perfect for him. All of them were guaranteed to be bad news for the prankee (Rafe), leaving the prankster (in this case, me) laughing hysterically.

I had
almost
convinced myself not to lock the door and make him yell for help. My nobler self had
almost
talked me out of doing anything to avenge myself (at least right now).

Then the second thing happened; it was time to clean the privies.

This doesn’t usually happen during the day while the Village is open. I had to assume it was due to someone thinking ahead after seeing the huge crowd. Either that or the privy company wasn’t on schedule. Either way, it was too much for me to resist.

Usually, the company emptied and then cleaned the privies on site. But once in a while, one of them had to be taken back to be serviced. It took only a moment for me to realize that’s what had to happen to the privy Rafe had entered.

Now I just had to convince the driver.

It helped that I was wearing the leather bustier and my pants were tight in all the right places. I’d probably blush if I ever saw a video of me working this poor privy dude into a frenzy over taking this one privy back to their shop.

But I didn’t let that stop me. Privy Dude was on his first run ever to the Village. He was already overwhelmed by all the half-dressed wraiths and low-cut bosoms surrounding him. I convinced him to pack up the privy (with my help, of course), and he got in the truck, prepared to lift it with the winch.

I couldn’t let Rafe think this was an honest mistake. I jammed a stick in the lock so he couldn’t get out, then gave the all clear to the driver.

“Hey! What’s going on out there? Someone’s in here. Find another can.”

“No problem, sir,” I said loud enough so he’d recognize my voice. “Have a good trip!”

“Jessie? Is that you? Open the door. Don’t be stupid. This is juvenile and beneath you.”

I saluted as his bellows were drowned out by the sounds of a squeeze box being played by a wandering group of pirates (loved that irony). He was on his way to a better place, and he certainly deserved everything he got.

The driver smiled and waved, then pulled carefully out of the Village through the special gate set up for large deliveries. Without so much as a blip of remorse, I continued on my way to see Portia. It was a grand and glorious day in Renaissance Faire Village.

But that was before I had to argue with Portia and Beth about my costume. Beth said it was inappropriate for a craftswoman to wear pants and a bustier, even if the leather could keep me from catching on fire. I argued about the yards of linen just waiting for an accident to happen with the torch at my workbench. Portia leaned heavily on one arm and interjected useless information at every available opportunity.

“Not everything here is done exactly as it would’ve been done during the Renaissance,” I told Beth. “They’re selling pizza, for goodness sake! What’s up with that? And Lady Visa has to be used with a computer. Cut me some slack, huh?”

“It’s important to stay as realistic as we can,” Beth argued with that tone in her voice that said she couldn’t believe she had to explain this to me. “Maybe it would’ve been a better choice for Master Trent to choose a male apprentice where the leather pants would’ve been more appropriate.”

“He didn’t have many volunteers. And I’m already filling that position. I need something safe to wear.”

Portia shrugged. “I already offered her a demon costume and she turned it down.”

“Talk about inappropriate for a shop apprentice.” I couldn’t believe we were having this discussion either. I mean, how many times did we have to go through the same thing? Why not just give me the clothes?

“All right.” Beth finally gave in. “But I should tell you Queen Olivia herself complained about your attire last night at the feast.”

“No!”
I hoped my face registered as much mock shock as my voice. “If she has something better that’s safe for me to wear, she can send it on over. Now, do you have something or not?”

I went away with my new costume after plenty of dirty looks from the other people waiting in line behind me. At least it was simple: plain white shirt and black cotton pants. It looked like something one of the varlets or the Village Idiot (they like the simple stuff) would wear, but that was okay. At least I’d managed to keep the leather bustier. Since Chase liked it so much, I didn’t want to part with it.

I was on my way back to the Glass Gryphon (only twenty minutes late) cutting through Squire’s Lane where the three large manor houses sat when I heard a low, moaning sound. Had it not been for the brick walls on either side of me, which reduced some of the noise from the Village, I would’ve missed it completely.

I followed the sound through the shadowed corridor, which was marked by No Entrance signs at either end. It made a good shortcut for residents. Visitors weren’t allowed to use it because they might be tempted to hide out there after closing time.

I saw a person leaning against one of the walls as I came out toward the Village Square. He collapsed on the ground as I reached him.

I knelt down, wishing for that darn two-way radio, and tried to comfort the poor man. I put my nice, clean costume under his head and looked into his bloody face. It was Roger.

“
R
oger?” He seemed to be unconscious, even though he was moaning. Someone had beaten him badly. It looked to me like the marks had been made by some kind of stick. They were long red welts about an inch wide.kind

I spit on the clean white blouse sleeve and tried to wipe some of the blood off his face (hey, it worked for my grandma). He still didn’t come around and I wasn’t sure what to do. I knew I needed to go find help but didn’t want to leave him alone like this. What if whoever attacked him came back? And if he was going to die, I didn’t want him to die alone.

Of course this wouldn’t be one of those times when these side alleyways were filled with resident traffic. I waited for a few minutes hoping someone else would show up and they could go for help. No luck. I was about to give up and go find security or some vendor who could help me, and I was just telling Roger I’d be back when the Black Dwarf (aka Marcus Fleck) came racing around the corner, his lantern jiggling on its stick. He glanced my way but didn’t slow down.

“Hey!” I tried to hail him. “I need you to go for help.”

“Can’t stop,” he said. “I’m late. The king will have my head.”

And he left us there. I couldn’t believe it. I was shocked and outraged. How single-minded could someone be?