Ghastly Glass (33 page)

Of course, I could’ve used my education outside of the university and probably made a lot more money. That had never occurred to me even though I’d eaten my fair share (and someone else’s) of Ramen Noodles. I guess we all have choices to make.

Roger had chosen that Monday for an outdoor demonstration of glassblowing. He had enlisted my help to give me a taste of what the Venetian glassblowers had brought to its highest art form hundreds of years ago.

The day was warm and sunny, though it had started with a heavy frost that settled on the rooftops and pumpkins between the dungeon and the Glass Gryphon. I kissed Chase good-bye and promised to meet him for lunch. I was in an exceptional mood since he had shared something important about himself and his life with me. It didn’t hurt that he’d also surprised me with my wager for winning our bet even though he believed I’d lost. Let me tell you, he makes a mean hot fudge sundae (with all the trimmings).

Mary and Roger were still working out the details for how they’d live together. Neither one of them had much space in their small apartments. The plan seemed to be that they’d use the space upstairs from the glass shop as storage and they’d live in Mary’s slightly bigger apartment above her basket shop.

They’d been busy all week moving stuff back and forth. It was kind of like watching two big ants rearranging their anthill. Mary’s extra blankets came one way and Roger’s favorite chair went another.

Crowds had slimmed down some from the record highs between Ross’s death and Henry’s arrest, but there were enough visitors that Chase had told me Adventure Land was already planning Halloween II in the Village. I liked it better when it wasn’t so busy. The Village wasn’t meant to be that crammed full of people.

Bart had stayed on as Death even though he had his answer to what happened to his brother. It was only a few weeks after all, and I supposed management had offered him enough money for the part to make it worthwhile. He’d totally stopped working on the computer program to identify employees in the Village, past and present. Now that the threat was over, what was the point?

Roger had the furnace all ready to go by the time I got to the glass shop. He’d shown me the basic maneuvers of getting the molten glass out and using the long pipe to gently blow into the glass and create a hollow opening. Aside from the extreme heat, the process was fairly easy and a lot like a larger version of working with the torch.

During the two hours we spent outside, I would start each project, then Roger would finish using the graphite shaping tools, in most cases. In others, he created glass balloonlike objects that became vases and artistic glassware.

We attracted a good-size crowd (including a bus of seniors from Surfside Beach). They were very appreciative of our joint efforts and bought more than five thousand dollars worth of merchandise after the show was over.

I enjoyed the process and didn’t even mind putting everything into the annealing oven afterward to cool. Sure, I wouldn’t see any of those mammoth profits, but I’d picked up a lot of valuable information that would go into my dissertation.

Chase and I had lunch and spent an hour walking around the Village, looking at everything and everyone. I felt thoroughly relaxed, a nice change after the stressful beginning to my stay. He left me at about two P.M. to deal with a problem at the main gate.

I walked back to the glass shop, but Roger was busy moving most of the afternoon (they were calling for rain the next day) and I mostly waited on customers. That gave me some free time to think about the night ahead. I hadn’t yet used my guaranteed incense from Cupid’s Arrow and decided to make that evening something special for Chase and me. After the shop closed, I made a run down to Polo’s Pasta for some takeout Italian and wine in paper cups. Not perfect, maybe, but not bad. I went back to the dungeon and dressed the place up some. I dressed me up, too (or down, depending on how you look at it), lit the incense about eight thirty, and waited for Chase.

He arrived not long after carrying a huge bouquet of flowers he’d bought from one of the undead flower girls in the street. We met each other at the door to the dungeon apartment and Polo’s excellent pasta was largely forgotten.

Unfortunately, that was where everything started going wrong. Chase started sneezing (it seems he’s allergic to patchouli), and for some reason, the banshee began to wail again.

“I’ll be right back,” he said between sneezes. “Could you open a window?”

“Of course. I’m really sorry.” I apologized for the tenth time, mentally promising to strangle Adora tomorrow. How could she sell me something Chase was allergic to? Not very romantic.

I opened all the windows in the apartment and turned on the fan to help the incense dissipate a little faster. Maybe it would be better to eat first and get romantic later, after Chase took some Benadryl. Hopefully the whole night wasn’t ruined.

I put the pasta into the microwave, then struck what I hoped was a sexy pose and waited.

Fifteen minutes later, I was still waiting. Most of the incense had dissipated. I hoped Chase was okay. Finally I put on his robe and walked downstairs. “Chase? Are you still breathing? I thought maybe food with a side of antihistamine. What do you think?”

No answer.

“Chase?” I opened the front door and set off the banshee again.

Vowing to totally obliterate whatever the mechanism was that was causing that sound, I switched on the inside light and stopped breathing for an instant as my heart pounded in my chest.

On the wall beside the big door was the phrase I’d hoped never to see again:
Death shall find thee.
But there was no sign of Chase.

I
didn’t panic at first. I thought maybe someone had called him. It’s not like it hadn’t happened before. Maybe he didn’t want to worry me and thought it would be a short job. I went back upstairs and sat on the bed for a long time (at least five minutes), then I started calling around.

I figured if another security guard or one of the guild members had called him, they’d know where he was. The
Death
message frightened me, especially after having gone so long without seeing it. But that didn’t mean someone had broken into the dungeon, hit Chase in the head, and dragged him out by his feet. No, sir. It didn’t necessarily mean anything like that.

Thirty minutes later, I’d talked to the three security guards who patrol the Village at night. I’d forgotten that the guilds had stopped their patrols last week after everything seemed to have quieted down. They weren’t happy about it either. Chase had told me how hard it was to get the two-way radios back from the pirates and the monks.

I got on the phone with the Myrtle Beach police as soon as I’d confirmed Chase hadn’t been called out by security. The first man I talked to, Sergeant Somebody or Other, told me I couldn’t report Chase missing for forty-eight hours. I explained the circumstances. He said it didn’t matter.

I hung up the phone and got online. My hands were clammy and cold on the keyboard. Every noise in the dungeon below sounded like someone coming to get me.
Had someone actually come to get Chase?
It wasn’t likely that he’d go wandering out in the dark in his boxers. Only an emergency could’ve tempted him to go out like that. If there was an emergency, I couldn’t find anyone else who knew about it.

I looked up Detective Almond in the online phone book. That didn’t work, so using his name, I did an Internet search, which produced a long list of hits. Finally, I saw that he and his wife had the yard of the month in May. I knew what subdivision he lived in and his address. I used that information to ferret out his phone number. His wife belonged to every club in Myrtle Beach!

It was after eleven when I called him. Detective Almond was probably asleep, but I didn’t care. Something was very wrong. I wasn’t sure what else to do. I let the phone ring until someone answered. “Hello?”

“Detective Almond. This is Jessie Morton from Renaissance Village. I think someone kidnapped Chase Manhattan.”

“The bailiff?” He yawned into the phone. “Who’d want to do that?”

I told him about the words written on the wall downstairs. “I don’t know who it is. But I wish you’d come out here and take a look.”

“We can’t officially look for a missing adult for forty-eight hours. That’s police policy. Maybe he went out for a pack of smokes or a cheeseburger. Sometimes people just need some space, you know? Were you arguing when he left?”

“Not exactly.” I didn’t elaborate on what we were doing. “Chase isn’t the kind of person to just rush out in the night wearing boxers to get a cheeseburger from McDonald’s. And he doesn’t smoke.”

“Let’s give him some personal space, okay? Call me tomorrow if he’s still not back. Then we’ll talk.”

“What if he’s dead by then? What if whoever wrote those words took him?”

He laughed. “First of all, Manhattan is kind of a big, strapping boy for someone to just come by and pick up if he didn’t want to go. You know what I’m saying? And the man who wrote those words is in jail.”

“The
other
words,” I agreed. “Not the words downstairs. They weren’t there yesterday.”

“Maybe it’s a joke or maybe Manhattan wrote them to buy himself some personal time. Just go to sleep and I’m sure he’ll be back in the morning. Good night.”

The phone was rudely clunked down on the other end. I stared at it, thinking of all the evil tricks I could do to get Detective Almond’s attention. In college, we’d frequently ordered dozens of pizzas for unsuspecting professors who’d done us wrong. Once we’d even ordered a thousand pounds of sand delivered to the president’s garden party. That one had come back and bitten us in the butt.

I realized this was no time to reminisce about past fun or worry about getting back at Detective Almond. Chase’s life could literally be on the line. I had to act. No way could I lie down again that night not knowing what had happened to him.

Of all the people in Renaissance Village I could think of to help me find him, Grigg came immediately to mind. I might’ve gone with Roger since he’d been a police officer, too, but he was still having a hard time walking. And he’d been on the job about twenty years ago. Grigg was a recent police officer. If I could convince him to take my concern seriously, I thought he might be the one to help.

I put on some jeans and a sweater, tucked a two-way radio into my waistband, and put my cell phone in my pocket. I found a flashlight and a baseball bat. I wished I had a gun. But the only weaponlike thing in the dungeon was a crossbow.

I looked at my new Joan of Arc sword. It wasn’t metal like the one I’d used to fight Roger at the King’s Feast. It was silver-painted plastic (Chase didn’t want to own the real thing), but maybe it would do in a pinch. I wouldn’t be able to kill someone with it, but maybe I could at least frighten them. I hung the sword in the scabbard across my back and sneaked out into the night.

The Village was very quiet. All of the special effects (including the zombies) had been off for a while. I saw a security guard walking past the tree swing and set out in the other direction toward Mirror Lake and the pirates. It wouldn’t do much good to tell a security guard I couldn’t find Chase, I supposed, after Detective Almond’s response.

I stayed purposely in the shadows where the streetlights wouldn’t find me. I wanted to talk to Grigg before anyone else. Maybe he could help me make some sense of what had happened.

All the pumpkins were still glowing as I passed the Jolly Pipemaker’s Shop, Peter’s Pub, the Honey and Herb Shoppe, and the Monastery Bakery. The Village looked serene and otherworldly. A small breeze shivered through the skeletal trees set up and down the street. I glanced into the darkness of Sherwood Forest and thought about going that way for Robin and Alex along with a few dozen Merry Men. I wasn’t looking forward to going to visit the pirates, but I kept an image of Chase in my mind for strength. He needed me. I wouldn’t let him down.

The
Queen’s Revenge
was berthed on the side of the lake closest to the main gate tonight. That would save me some time. Of course, it also meant the pirates were mostly on board the ship. When they spent the night on the other side of the lake, some of them were likely to be at the Lady of the Lake Tavern.

Either way, probably not good news for me. At least Rafe wasn’t the Pirate King anymore, and Crystal seemed to have an old-flame thing for Chase that could work in my favor. I just had to get past all the other pirates, who were as likely to throw me in the brig for the rest of the night as they were to take me to see Grigg.

I walked cautiously up the gangplank to the heart of the ship. The pirates slept below deck in a makeshift room filled with hanging berths. Some of them were asleep on deck since it was a nice night. A few looked as though they had gone to sleep where they fell on the rough, wooden planking.