Harrowing Hats (26 page)

While I was thinking, I cut, stitched, and even hot-glued a couple of hats that needed repairs. These came from all across the Village—Mother Goose’s storytelling hat, Lady Lindsey’s hat where her songbirds rested, and the hat (helmet) worn by King Arthur when he removed the sword from the stone twice daily to the delight of visitors who always gathered for the occasion.

I never realized how important hats were to the costumes they supported. In essence, a hat could make or break a costume. Andre’s work went largely unappreciated even though, without it, Village characters would be less recognizable.

My last task before lunch was to sort through and organize hundreds of hat pins. They were all about the same length, but there the similarities ended. The pins were made with gemstones or flowers, they were beaded or braided, their color and style specially created for each hat.

But while they had a specific function—holding the hat on the head—their colors and styles were made to enhance as well. They could’ve been plain, unnoticed. Instead, each one was a tiny masterpiece. And each pin went with a specific hat.

I thought about what type of hat pin went with the Chocolatiers’ fancy, wide-brimmed hats. I shuffled through all of Andre’s collection, each one meticulously marked for each character so it could be replaced with one like it if necessary.

I finally found them—they all matched and each had a red stone in a brushed-gold setting. I was sure Chase had mentioned that the killer hat pin had a green stone on it.

The killer had covered Cesar with his hat but the hat pin might have belonged to someone else. I looked at the three matching hat pins for the brothers that were still in Andre’s collection. If I could find out what the hat pin they’d found in Cesar looked like, I might know who killed him.

F
ull of theories about the hat pin that was found in Cesar and how to sufficiently prank Stewart Reiker, I went to meet Chase for lunch.

The mild morning weather had stretched through noon, giving residents and visitors a respite from summer heat. Everyone seemed to be eating outside, covering the Village Green with picnics and blankets, taking up tables and chairs along the cobblestones.

Chase and I had a system for meeting. If he wasn’t where I was at lunchtime, we met at the closest place—in this case Peter’s Pub. Not having instant communications took some planning and getting used to. It was much simpler when my cell phone was in my pocket. But our system usually worked.

Not this time.

I was a little annoyed right away, thinking that Chase had made another run to the forest for the Templars. He probably couldn’t stop to tell me. Sometimes emergencies happened. But the sooner I found a way to take care of the Templar problem, the better.

“Looking for the bailiff?” Peter Greenwalt asked.

“Yeah. Was he here?”

“He was here,” Peter’s sister, Maude, answered. “He had to go over to the Chocolatiers’ shop when the riot broke out.”

“Riot? I’ve been inside working all morning. What kind of riot?”

“It’s that ad Adventure Land put in the paper.” Peter produced his copy of the
Myrtle Beach Sun
. “I heard there were six hundred applicants when the Main Gate opened. No telling how many there are now.”

“I heard something about a few of them getting out of hand,” Maude added. “I think that’s why they called the bailiff. He already ordered lunch if you want to go ahead and eat.”

“No, maybe later, after I find him.” I looked at the ad requesting young men in musketeer costumes to apply for a job in a chocolate shop at the Village. No wonder it was such a mess.

I didn’t have to wander far toward the chocolate shop to see the long line of colorful musketeers waiting across the King’s Highway. If there were six hundred this morning, most if not all of them were still left. Their bright red, green, yellow, and blue capes and hats stretched like flowers dotting the landscape. Carriages of visitors had to go around the line, while the Lovely Laundry Ladies were displaced from their well, watching from the benches near the fountain and Da Vinci’s Drawings.

I followed the snaking line of every imaginable type of male—some young, some not so young. They all seemed to be carrying swords, most not peace-tied the way they should have been. Someone at the Main Gate was going to get in trouble for this.

Chase was with four security guards at the front of the Three Chocolatiers Shoppe along with Bernardo and Marco. There was still no access to the interior of the shop, so they’d set up a place outside to speak with applicants for the part of one of the Rizzo brothers.

“I hear you ordered lunch but had to leave,” I razzed Chase when I reached him.

“This is the worst employment fiasco since I’ve been here,” he growled. “These guys started sword fighting to show they could handle the part. It kind of created a frenzy for a while, but I think we’re okay now.”

I noticed the large sign, handwritten, proclaiming No Sword Fighting that had been installed on the side of the chocolate shop near the table where Marco and Bernardo sat. “How are they ever going to choose someone to take Cesar’s place? Management would’ve been kinder choosing for them.”

“I agree. How do you hire someone to be your brother?” Chase folded his arms across his chest. “They should’ve worded the ad differently, too. It doesn’t matter so much that they look like musketeers as whether or not they can make chocolate.”

“We’ve got this now, Bailiff, if you want to go to lunch with your lady,” one of the security guys told Chase. “Sorry we had to call you, but it was really getting crazy.”

“Thanks. That’s what I’m here for. We’ll be at Peter’s Pub if you need me.”

Chase and I started across the King’s Highway when Bernardo called him back to the table. The flat surface was full of applications and resumes printed in color, displaying pictures and qualifications for various actors who wanted the part.

“Can you make this go away?” Bernardo pleaded. “Please, Chase. We can’t pick someone to be Cesar. This is cruel and stupid.”

Marco agreed, his sorrowful eyes glancing at the line of men before him. “We don’t need another brother. Bernardo and I can handle it. Maybe we can just hire an assistant instead of a brother.”

“I wish I could help you,” Chase said. “At least they’re giving you a choice. Maybe there’s someone in this line you can work with. Don’t think of it as replacing Cesar. Whoever you hire won’t even be a business partner. Call him an assistant if it makes you feel better. Just get through this and let’s get things back to normal.”

“That’s not going to happen with the shop closed,” Bernardo reminded him. “We need to have Cesar’s body for burial and we need access to the shop.”

Chase could only offer platitudes. It wasn’t up to him. The police would decide when it was time to release Cesar. And Adventure Land had made their decision about the chocolate shop. When it came right down to it, they were the evil overlords, the real kings and queens of Renaissance Village.

I
was bursting to tell Chase about my hat pin theory, but there was so much noise and activity between the chocolate shop and Peter’s Pub that I held it in. It wasn’t easy.

We were finally situated in a quiet corner at Peter’s, eating the fries and sandwiches Maude had kept warm for us. Still not a good time.

For the first few minutes, Chase spouted anger at Adventure Land’s treatment of the Rizzo brothers. That took almost half a sandwich and most of the fries, not to mention a pint of ale. He finished off by telling me about the snake in the mermaid’s air line and closing down the climbing wall for repairs, leaving a large crowd of angry visitors.

Finally he took a deep breath and smiled at me. “So how was your morning?”

I immediately launched into telling him my plan for pranking Stewart to relieve the Templar problem. Then I told him about the hat pin that should have been in Cesar’s eye.

“Slow down,” he advised. “One project at a time, please.”

Chase wasn’t crazy about pranking Stewart. “I don’t think this kid has any weaknesses to exploit. He’s not like the usual residents here who play by Village rules, Jessie. It won’t be as easy as getting revenge on the pirates for kidnapping you or teaching Robin Hood a lesson by loosening his bow string or even pranking the monks. I think we should wait and let him screw up—it’s bound to happen. Then we can move in on him, with Merlin’s blessing.”

As plans went for vengeance, or even to end Chase’s leadership of the Templars, it sucked. “If he’s the way you say he is, it could take years. I don’t want this to go on for the rest of my life. Or yours.”

“Merlin and I agreed that this is the best avenue of attack,” he said. “Let’s stay with the plan.”

I could see that Merlin and Chase had made the cautious decision and were standing by it. No problem. I could handle this for them. Chase never had to be involved.

Merlin was head of the Magical Creatures Guild, but I didn’t need him either. There were plenty of angry magical creatures out there, waiting for revenge.

Chase listened carefully to my idea about the hat pin that implicated Andre in killing Cesar. “So if we knew whose hat pin it was that we found in his eye, we might be able to figure out who’s responsible. I like it.”

“Could we get the hat pin or at least a picture of the hat pin from Detective Almond? I could go through Andre’s collection and figure out who it matched.”

“There must be a lot of hat pins.”

“Hundreds,” I agreed. “I didn’t say it would be easy. Andre could help me.”

“I like him, too, Jessie. But he’s still on the top of Detective Almond’s list of suspects. Until we know for sure that he wasn’t involved, I think we should keep him out of the investigation.”

That made sense. I didn’t like it and I didn’t want to think about it that way, but I could see his point. “Well, I’ll do the best I can. If I don’t get through all the hat pins by the end of summer—”

“I’ll help you,” he offered. “In my spare time.”

I rolled my eyes. “What spare time—unless you want to prank Stewart.”

“I’ll make time for it,” he promised. “Please don’t try and do anything to Stewart Reiker. Let Merlin and me handle it.”

All the more reason—in my mind anyway—to find a way to get Stewart. Then Chase might have some spare time. Not that I’d want to spend it going through hat pins with him, but at least he’d be away from the Templars.

I wasn’t sure when or where that opportunity would come from. Chase made Stewart sound like he was Renaissance superman. How do you prank someone like that? Yet I knew there was a way.

I left Chase at Peter’s with a big kiss and a hug—not only because I loved him, but also to begin making up for doing what he asked me not to do. He had been called away to another emergency, but not until we’d finished lunch. I could live with that.

Lost in thought as I wandered back to the Hat House, I didn’t even see the young man who approached me until he fell prostrate at my feet.

“You must allow me to serve you, Mistress. You saved my life on the Field of Honor. I am in your debt. Command me!”

I wouldn’t have known him without his black costume, but his words gave him away. It was the young man who’d lost his patience and his horse this morning fighting Stewart Reiker.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at the hospital?” I asked.

“’Twas only a bump, my lady.” He smiled, his hand on his heart. “Allow me to serve you. Command me!”

He was quite the charmer, even in green hospital scrubs. I assumed he’d left quickly and without his clothes. He had a cute smile and big blue eyes. A crowd with cameras began to gather around us.

“Not here,” I whispered, thinking fast. “I bid thee rise, sir. Accompany me to the Hat House for some . . . er . . . shopping.”

“Aw, give the lad a kiss, lady,” an older gentleman with a strong Australian accent pleaded as his video camera continued to film us.