Read Wicked Weaves Online

Authors: Joyce Lavene,Jim

Wicked Weaves (21 page)

BOOK: Wicked Weaves
2.35Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads
“We have to find some way to flush this guy out,” Chase said as we walked toward the dungeon. There were no lights on in the Village by this time. Even the animals in the stables and Bo Peep’s sheep were asleep.
“What do you have in mind?” I didn’t comment on the fact that my hut was closer than the dungeon. Chase’s bed was more comfortable. And since I’d decided he was mine, it didn’t matter where we went.
“I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it. But if we don’t find some way to get him out in the open, something else is bound to happen. He’s not hanging around here for no reason. I don’t like that he seemed to be headed toward your hut. Maybe you should consider moving.”
“Okay. But there isn’t anyplace available this summer.”
He took my hand. “I know someplace that’s available. Rent free, too, if you don’t mind sharing.”
It was what I was waiting for, at least since we’d talked that night. Funny how one day could change your perspective. Just yesterday, I’d been thinking I didn’t want to be at the dungeon with him because it was too proprietary. Then tonight, it was all I wanted to do.
“I could handle that.”
“Great!” He kissed my hand. “We’ll move your stuff to the dungeon in the morning.”
“I think I can wait until then.”
“If not, there’s always the swan swing, although I think I hurt my back over there. I might be getting too old to rescue damsels, subdue evil knights, and woo fair troubadours.”
“Whatever,” I blew off his excuses. “There’s always aspirin.”
 
 
The next morning Chase and I talked about what we could do to trap Abraham. Now that we knew the police wouldn’t be any help, we had to find a way to take care of the problem.
“We could paint a mark on every monk we pass that you can only see with a black light and have handheld black lights to scan them,” Chase suggested as we moved my stuff to the dungeon.
“That would work if we had handheld black lights and if the monks would let us paint their robes.” I shuffled my suitcase from one hand to another. “I wonder why Abraham would see me as a threat. It’s not like I know anything more than anyone else.”
“I don’t know. And he might not,” Chase admitted. “But you’ll be safer at the dungeon.”
I laughed, feeling very alive and happy, even if an evil monk was after me. The morning sun was warm on my head, and my senses were filled with all the sights, sounds, and smells of Renaissance Faire Village. Someday, when I was old and content to be where I was, I wanted to live here year round. This place was more home to me than anywhere else in the world.
Thinking about home made me think about Tony. I tried calling him when we dropped off my stuff at the dungeon. His cell phone was dead, of course. If I didn’t pay the bill, he didn’t, either. I wondered how he and Tammy were doing in Las Vegas and if it was everything he’d hoped it would be. I hoped it was. It would be nice for Tony to be happy.
“I have to hold debtor’s court in a few minutes.” Chase smiled at me. “It’ll be nice knowing you’ll be here tonight. I hope this isn’t rushing things for you.”
I hugged him, and we kissed for a few minutes. I didn’t want to think about how many fairies and other fair maidens he’d practiced that kiss on; he was too good at it for me to believe I was the first. But then, I considered myself to be a fair kisser, too. Together we made a pretty good team.
I didn’t let myself think about the end of the summer. When it was done, it was done. It had been that way for me for many years. There was no reason to think it would change because Chase was involved.
“You’re off to Wicked Weaves?”
“Yep. I’ve stopped injuring myself when I weave baskets. Maybe now I can learn the real fundamentals.”
“Do you think Mary could be in danger like Ham said?” Chase raised that left brow at me.
“I don’t know. I hope not. Maybe we can come up with something today. We need to get Abraham out in the open.”
“What about Jah? You think they could be working together?”
“There’s no way of knowing. Mary won’t listen to anything bad about either one of them. It could be Jah and Abraham working together or each of them involved individually. The only thing I know for sure is that something’s up.”
We kissed once more before leaving the dungeon. I almost skipped back through the Village, saying good morning to Frenchy at his fudge shop and Kellie at her kite shop. The Three Chocolatiers were practicing their swordplay in front of their shop in full costume. Their large, plumed hats, capes, and thigh-high boots separated them from the rest of the crowd. They put on a good show and had excellent chocolates.
I waved to a few of my students who were exercising the camels and elephants, surprised they’d stayed with it for so long. Several young men were trying to take the sword from the stone as I approached Wicked Weaves.
Of course, it didn’t come out. It was inserted into an electronic lock in the stone, but most boys from the ages of nine to sixty couldn’t resist trying. A few girls tried, too, but mostly the females watched from the side with exasperated expressions on their faces.
Roger Trent stopped me before I could go into Wicked Weaves. “I’d like to talk to you alone for a minute.”
I wasn’t sure I wanted to be alone with him, but since I was thinking about apprenticing with him at some point, I thought I should learn to get over it. Maybe he’d have something to say that would make sense of everything that had happened. After all, he was a standard in the Village. He knew everyone and everything.
He was an extraordinary glass blower. I was always stunned by his creations when I walked into his shop, the Glass Gryphon. He was a true artist. Tiny little dragons peeked out from behind glass trees while large glass birds and fairies dangled from the ceiling. The colors and forms were graceful and beautiful. He infused them with life, even down to the tiny details of their clothes and faces. Except for the burns I always noticed on his muscular forearms, I was eagerly anticipating learning the craft.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about what happened to Mary’s husband,” he said as we walked into his shop. “I don’t think things are exactly as they appear.”
I sat beside his worktable as he sat down to work on one of his creations. The fine piece of glass looked out of place in his big hands. “What kind of things?”
“I’ve heard the police say they found Joshua behind the privies and that he’d been moved.”
“That’s what I heard, too.”
“What else have you heard, Jessie?”
I wasn’t sure how to answer that question. I glanced into the side room off the main show area in his shop. There was a monk’s robe hanging on the wall. My pulse jumped up.
There were many reasons Roger could have a monk’s robe. Maybe he was part of the Brotherhood of monks. That was unlikely, since all the craftsmen were members of the Craft Guild, and I’d never heard of one crossing over to another group.
Maybe he just liked the way the robe looked. It was a popular costume for visitors. Maybe he had one of his own for when he wasn’t wearing his leather jerkin and hose. It got chilly in the wintertime.
Or maybe Roger was involved in Joshua’s murder, and he was pumping me for information, because he knew I’d talked to the police last night. If he was the one skulking around outside Bawdy Betty’s, he’d know about that. And didn’t someone mention that frequently one of the first people on the scene of a homicide is involved in it?
I knew I had to word my answer carefully. “I haven’t heard a lot more than that, Roger. There was an attack on Ham. The police think it might be the same person.”
He continued working with the glass figure. “Why would someone want to hurt Ham?”
“I don’t know. Maybe they want to cover up what really happened to Joshua.”
He looked up at that. “What do you mean?”
“I think there might be some question of how Joshua really died.” I watched for his reaction.
“He was strangled, right?”
“Yes. But the police have to wonder how Mary could’ve killed him. I mean, she’s a little bit of nothing to hold down a man Joshua’s size and strangle him.”
“I suppose that’s true. Maybe she drugged him or something. Not saying Mary was involved, because I don’t believe she could hurt anyone.”
“I don’t, either. I suppose the big question is, why would someone want to kill Joshua?”
He shrugged. “Maybe because he wasn’t supposed to be here. We know his brother, Abraham, talked to Mary before we found Joshua’s body. Maybe he was worried about what Joshua had to say.”
It occurred to me that I was alone in the shop with the door closed and that Roger could be a killer. Did I want to confront him like this, or would it be better when I had Chase and several police officers behind me? I didn’t want to become part of the investigation.
“Maybe.” My best bet would be to pretend I hadn’t seen the monk’s robe in the side room and get out of there. “I guess we may never know.”
“You mean the police don’t have any idea?”
“Not as far as I know. I like that color on the fairy.” I pointed to one of his creations. “I wish I could find nail polish that color. Does it have a name?”
He laughed. “I’ll be glad to find it for you.”
“Okay. Thanks.” I played with my hair and looked as vacant and stupid as I could. Maybe it wasn’t a feat of bravery to get out of there alive, but I didn’t intend to lose my life over this.
“All right. I’ll talk to you later, Jessie. If you hear anything else, I’d appreciate it if you let me know. I like to keep up with what’s going on, even if I’m not part of it anymore.”
I couldn’t resist asking, “Why did you leave the police department, Roger?”
“It’s a long story. Nothing for you to worry your pretty head about, sweetie. We’ll just say there was an unfortunate accident. It was best for me to leave.”
I ran out of the Glass Gryphon. Roger might’ve shot someone and gotten away with it. Was strangulation too far a leap from that? I slammed the door behind me going into Wicked Weaves. Mary looked up from where she was displaying baskets. “What’s wrong with you?”
“I think Roger might be the killer.”
She laughed. “You think Roger killed Joshua? Yesterday, you thought it was Jah or Abraham. Make up your mind, child. They
all
didn’t kill him.”
I thought it was best not to tell her what I knew about Roger. It might only endanger her life further. I looked out the front window, but there was no sign of him following me. Apparently, I’d been able to pull off the dumb-girl persona.
I had to call Detective Almond again. He had to come out and investigate Roger before he could get rid of the monk’s robe.
As if in answer, a police car pulled up beside Wicked Weaves. I ran outside to welcome them and point them in the right direction.
It was Detective Almond this time. He nodded to me as I reached him. “Miz Morton. Is Miz Shift in the shop?”
“Yes!” I was delighted he was taking an interest. “I have some news for you. I think we may have solved the case.”
“That’s funny, because that’s why we’re here,” he said. “I’m here to pick up Miz Shift and take her back to the office for further questioning.”
Fifteen
I was sure I hadn’t heard him correctly. He didn’t say he was taking Mary in. “You don’t understand. I have a
real
suspect. You should be questioning him instead of her.”
He kept walking. I followed him into Wicked Weaves, pleading my case. “Mary may seem like a good suspect. Granted, she knew Joshua, and he was strangled with her basket weaving. Well, really
my
basket weaving. On the surface, that looks suspicious. But surely we’ve gone beyond the surface of what’s happened here.”
He stopped walking and stared at me. “What are you talking about?”
I took a deep breath. Patience was never my strong suit. “I’m talking about Roger Trent, the glass blower. He has a monk’s costume in his storage closet. I’m sure your officer must’ve mentioned that someone has been skulking around the Village in a monk’s robe.”
“That doesn’t surprise me, young woman. There was a man on stilts dressed like a tree out there. I’ve seen everything from some boy wearing pink long johns to a woman half naked riding a horse. Don’t expect me to take exception to someone in a monk’s robe.”
“You know Ham the blacksmith was attacked by someone wearing a monk’s robe, right?”
“Again, how many people have monk costumes out here? If we take everyone in who dresses weird, we’ll be questioning them all day.” He smiled and shook his head. “Besides, what would his motive be? We know your friend, Miz Shift, was divorced and hadn’t seen her husband in years. We have information now that suggests she was involved in him being so drunk he couldn’t stop her from strangling him to death. Leave the police work to the professionals. You go on and do whatever it is you do here.”
I was glad I was wearing my linen skirts again. I couldn’t imagine how he’d look at me if I were still dressed as a troubadour with all those bells. He started walking again, and Mary met him in the shop.
BOOK: Wicked Weaves
2.35Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Dungeons by Jones, Ivy M.
Angels and Exiles by Yves Meynard
The Wedding of the Century & Other Stories by Mary Jo Putney, Kristin James, Charlotte Featherstone
Kissing Comfort by Jo Goodman
Phineas L. MacGuire . . . Gets Slimed! by Frances O'Roark Dowell